Golf Indigestion – March 2013 Edition (White Gangsta Golfers)

GolfBall

Golf Indigestion
The Monthly Journal

I have never understood the fascination with the hip-hop world, especially white boys pretending to have rhythm and ghetto swagger.  If you feel I am wrong about this, please watch this.

Are you still confused?  What about Justin Bleeber, or whatever he is?  You all should know by now that am an aging man in my 50’s. I was part of the disco era and I cannot dance to disco music, no matter how hard I tried. I’d be out on the floor sweating to death, while all my black friends were doing amazing acrobatic things, while wearing 10″ high-dive platform heels on, and not breaking a droplet of sweat.  And that was just my black male friends.

I grew up just wanting to be good at golf.  The course is where you went for peace and solitude, not some MTV after school special.  But just like dancing, I suck big time at golf. Can you imagine the country club that let these guys in?  Here’s a sample from some your favorite golf course theme songs, sung and danced to by the Whitey Tighty Uptighties:

  1. Augusta da Busta, with a nuclear golf cart thrusta.
  2. Pebble Beach, were your shotz makz um hollerz and screechz.
  3. Pine Valley,  where da ladies in da galley start screamin for da rally.
  4. The Congressional, the confessional, where the politicians are pretenders 2B professional.
  5. Spook Rock, whatta crock, I can’t use my cart, so I haffa walk.

Well you get the point, it just doesn’t sound right, no matter how you slice or shank it.  Just as some guy who named his business Vanilla Mocha Construction Company.  It seems to me that the real art today is just to see who can be more absurd with fashions, rhymes and dance routines.  Whatever happened to white boys wanting to be caddy’s as a means to advancing their career aspirations?  And what the heck ever happened to rock?  Speaking of the good old days, here’s a Journey back in time:

Oh how I love the OMG (Oh My Groin) moment of that movie. If you look closely to Rodney Dangerfield, you will have a pretty good idea of how bad a dancer I am, well, and the golfing too. Ditch diggers?  Naw, today they want to all be rap, idol, and dancing wit da stars stars, even on the course.  It’s enough to give someone Golf Indigestion.

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