Sexy Time Miniature Golf

Sexy Time Miniature Golf

By: David McGhee

So we called Derby up and asked him if he'd like to play with some balls that afternoon. There was no hesitation on his part and he said he'd be there in a bit. But after a few hours of waiting (and ten levels of Mario beaten) I texted him asking what the hell was the hold up. It turned out that Derby was using hydroponics to grow his pot and now he was having a water leak. Frank laughed it off and called him a loser for not using soil.

You hear that Derby? You're a loser!

Ha ha... No, just kidding. Please don't hit me.

Frowny face.

After eating an edible chocolate bar we headed off to the course. I remember the car ride being uneventful, perhaps even stressful, for we had to not listen to my music along the way. Don't get me wrong, hippies are people too, sometimes, but their music just doesn't make sense to me. Why would you spend fifty to a hundred bucks to watch people jam around for three hours while only playing four songs? Further was okay I suppose. But maybe I would have had fun at Dave Mathews? (with central heating!) but judging from the crowd at their lot I would have been drowning in jock seminal fluid. Although that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. After all jocks do provide an erotic service to all gay men. Perhaps the women enjoy it too but we're not here to make them happy, are we fellas?

We got to the course and the reception booth was empty. I smiled and immediately started saying “heeelllloooo? We wants to play with your balls!” and like magic a young lady appeared. Frank paid because he's my sugar daddy (at least until I get food stamps again) and we picked out our balls and golf clubs.

I picked pink with blue. Ever see a more natural color for a man to choose?

First hole I basically hit my maximum and wound up smashing my golf club against the AstroTurf in a fit of lusty rage. The next hole I wound up hitting it in in two tries. This continued until about the seventh hole, when I totally lost my shit and started yelling at a rabbit.

It's not that I don't like miniature golf per se, in fact I am quite good at it and it has been said that if I actually tried I could whip Frank and Drew's pasty asses. With the edible in full effect I began making love to the ball... No actually I just started getting frustrated and guided the ball into the holes by walking besides it and gently putting it as I went along. By this time Frank and Drew could see that I wasn't taking the game seriously. But all in all I had a lot of fun.

To be honest I think that's all I am going to post today... I just don't haves it in me to rant and rave about various topics of interest. That is, unless anyone wants to teach me math?