Not all doom and gloom however, did manage a weekend junket to PA, where jackets were beaten from golf balls.
Toby, Buster and I shot down there Friday after work, missed the schnitzel at the Jaegermeister, but did make some new friends. That is not Obama country. Had I not queued BOC's "Red and the Black" on the jukebox, things could have gotten ugly.
Stayed in the Mitchell cabin, aka Hillside. Very smartly appointed and idyllic, perfect base of operations for country club demonstrations of male prowess, oatmeals and other such tough guy activity. Cannot believe it took me this long to get down there.
The house sits right next to a creepy Shining-era now deceased Poconos retreat, well in arrears. Buster, according to legend, may have defeated security and eyeballed the innards.
Buster, in repose:
Hitting for power AND accuracy:
The lads, haggling over hand wedges, cart driving priviliges, etc
I may have carded a few nines, but this outfit was all TENS.
We also played tennis. More emasculation for the a-man. Redeemed myself here, 2,000 calories under belt:
Of zero relevance to the above, this one from TEG. If you can identify the folks in this picture, you know why this hilarious. This was the last time I had dark hair.
2 comments:
Matching hat and pants. I've seen it all! The landscape does rock, looks as though fun was had by all.
Glad to see the old photo on the scene. Although I do think your hair was dark for maybe another couple of years...
Neil Hendrix with the Donald Duck shirt.. Sweet..
Post a Comment