Dave Mccleary and the Pardsies

Party, Party, whooooa Party Time, when are you coming back? "Soon, we hope." - Dave, Max, and Drew. This Legend's antics and animated schemes, with this blog being one of them, are almost never left unrecognized or under-appreciated. My great memories of these preposterous shenanigans put my hopes of more of the same actions happening in the future in the realm of 'realistic possibility,' seeing as how he has come back every summer to erase the memories of every kinger-less winter we've had to suffer through. Our hopes and dreams that we may be graced with his presence for another summer can only be compared to, in my humble opinion, Columbus' quest for the new world, or Randall's daily requests for the reaper to lay him to rest. We can only fantasize that on this day, the skies will shower us with Copenhagen Snuff, and we will continue to hit range balls off the parking lot, have tug-of-war cart battles, and of course, play a few holes while on the clock. Following these various occurrences, him and Dave are sure to get pretty boozed up and make some great decisions. Now THAT'S where i"m coming from, Pards.

Remember Wounded Knee.

So I'm sure you will all here the story in detail, but apparently a few Indians were not real pleased to celebrate the White Man's independence day on the 4th of July. While Working down at gold with the young Tyler Smith, I checked in 4 very large, very pony tailed, and very tattooed indians at around 2 oclock. When they made the turn at 5 (3 hours later) i just knew that they were gonna destroy my dreams of an early night that would quickly devolve into a drunken mess at the grandparents 4th celebrations and whatnot. But to cut to the chase after sending tyler out to speed them up, i go out myself and tell them to pick it up a little bit, when i am informed by the jamison's who are members that they driving all over the course. I go and tell them again that they must stay on the path, this sets off a rather large man who i can only call Geronimo. He pulls the race card and i ask me why im only telling "them" and how come "we" are the only ones i'm yelling at. The mess rises to a crescendo by the 18th hole as I get a call from the angelica jamison who is on the verge of tears telling me the 4 men have completely stopped playing golf and are just screaming at them from the fairway. I call Dan and security, dan beats security here and they difuse the situation. In closing, there is a reason that the savages were restricted to reservations and should keep to gambling and peyote just like dave should keep to chipping.

nobody likes a quiter

Of all the rumors and stories passed between us, this is probably the most exciting. Gephart Quit. J/K told me this. Romeo, a slightly more credible source but not by much, told me this. Even The Mac is passing along the news. With Chuck gone, Gep had to pick up the slack and he obviously could not take the heat. It is very hard to replace a worker like Chuck and the weight of this responsibility can easily make any mere mortal crumble with self-doubt and cowardlyness<----totally a real word.

Poop

Here is what i really hate. Some mornings, early, dudes love to take dumps in the men's room. Big, smelly dumps that require the door to the men's room to be closed and the window to be opened for the smell to escape. Why do they feel the need to take their first shit five minutes before they tee off? beats me

MISSING ITEM: VERY URGENT, ALL BLOG MEMBERS MUST READ

MISSING: MY SWING

• LAST SEEN ON: GOD KNOWS WHEN
• DATE MISSING: SOMEWHERE AROUND MAY OF 2002, WHEN I PURCHASED MY FIRST SET OF CLUBS
• LOOK FOR THESE SIGNS: LARGE UNCURABLE BLOCKS AND SLICES, DUCK HOOKS, SHANKS, DUFFS, CHUNKS, TOPS, CHUNKED CHIPS, LAG PUTTS, AND, ONCE IN A WHILE, NO FORWARD PROGRESS WITH THE GOLFING BALL
• I URGE YOU ALL NOT TO SUCCUMB TO THESE IRREVERSIBLE SWING DISASTERS
• IF FOUND, PLEASE NOTIFY ME VIA MOBILE PHONE, FACEBOOK, MYSPACE, NOT TWITTER, OR JUST WRITE IT ON THE SCHEDULE IN THE BALL ROOM
• THE REWARD VARIES FROM PERSON TO PERSON DEPENDING ON WHO FINDS THIS WALKING DISASTER
• KINGER: ONE CAN OF COPENHAGEN FINE CUT SNUFF
• DAVID: A NIGHT ALONE WITH ANY CENTRAL SLOP OF YOUR CHOSING
• TIM: A FRESHLY COOKED TRAY OF CHICKEN NUGGETS

This is very urgent everybody and I would greatly appreciate any information on the topic. There's a high probability that I may earn a bachelor's degree in business when I graduate in 2012 before my swing comes around again. But thank you for complying.

In completely unrelated news, it feels like things are really starting to get into the summer swing, no pun intended. It's good to see things back to normal after that horrendous winter. I'd also like to offer some blog-belated-birthday-wishes to one of our own, Mr. David Mccleary. As he gets older, his wisdom continues to try and outgrow his midsection. Just kidding Dave, that was tasteless. Happy Birthday my man. But I'm looking forward to the end of these damned summer classes so I can hit up the range on a regular basis and return to some sort of respectable form so I can start putting up decent rounds with you gentlemen. So until then, hit 'em straight.

Well that was easy!

Just like the staples commercial. That was easy! Today Kinger and myself joined force with the Big A-B and Drew N. to practically lap the field in the Kaiser Classic. It was a good win for the program even if Tom bent the rules "slightly" for our team's entry. After shooting a cool 57 we went on to capture the only 2 skins of the day. Kinger was on fire bombing the ball what seemed like a mile and draining anything in front of him. I did my share not exactly an impressive day from me though, but considering I left with more money then I started I wont complain. Look out beechwoods, wednesday TL invades.

Martha Reeves and the Vandellas

Jimmy, Jimmy, whooooa Jimmy Mac, when are you coming back? "Never, I hope." - Scott. This Guy's opinion is almost never left unknown and one day his stray tooth will break free from the shackles of those receding gums and spin off into another dimension. My predictions put this inevitable occurrence in the vicinity of when his combined age and handicap total 80 and he moves up to the white tees. We can only hope that on this day the skies do not open up and fire-rains cover the earth, or at least TL, in a molten blanket of golf tyranny, and I'm dead serious. Following this occurrence he is sure to pay for everything he could ever possible need solely in pro-shop credit. Now that's where I'm coming from, Pards.