Golf [2]


I’ve lost all interest in golf (not that I ever really had any…) since, when I was a kid, I was out walking on the local GC with my Dad, and got bawled out by some old… fuck only knows… a monstrous THING in a tweedy skirt, apparently I’d kicked “its” ball out of the way…

As my Dad said, we were walking in the rough, so the thing must have been a fairly crap shot. I still wonder if it was a so-called “Lady golfer”, or maybe just a rather unpleasant-looking tv… (Lady golfers normally seem to wear trizers like Rupert the Bear’s).

And didn’t that red-head splosher, formerly married to the paedo-Andrew, live on the edge of a golf course? Did that make her the 20th hole, or the 21st…

Nominated by: HBelinda Hubbard

39 thoughts on “Golf [2]

  1. The Queens Birthday needs a cunting.

    How many 90th celebrations does she need?

    She was months ago, she was again this weekend with D grades to the like of Kylie Minogue singing for her and theres the picnic to close the town end of May.

    Then again I guess if every other cunt was paying Id probably do the same.

    Many are hitting this age now that have worked alot fucking harder and the page is simply turned.

    • We could all reach 90 if a days work involved being picked up in a limo at lunchtime, cutting a ribbon at a new hospital wing and nibbling on a cucumber sandwich.
      Why any cunt wants to celebrate the birthday of this unelected inbred German cunt is beyond reason.
      If you’re getting involved, your a cunt and need to find some self respect.
      These parasites hate you and make no secret of it.
      “Get behind the barrier you peasant”

      I’d rather walk through ISIS held territory in a “Muslims suck cock” t-shirt than have any connection with these cunts from the shallow end of the gene pool.

  2. Has anyone received their “free impartial government guide” to voting in the EU referendum yet? Looking forward to reading it for entertainment purposes, it’ll no doubt be as “impartial” as a first edition of “Mein Kampf”

    • It is a hilarious work of scarmongering fiction.

      I read it, I laughed, I binned it.

    • Still trying to find out if I can vote from Yankland. I shouldn’t be able to because I don’t live in the country, but I might again one day. I’d vote OUT. Hopefully, the day after it becomes official, the UK government will round up all the Euro trash and send them back to their own scummy countries. That way there might actually be room for me to come back.

      • You can if you’ve been out of the UK for less than 15 years but you need to register. You can do that on line but not sure how you physically vote. I know there are proxy votes but you need to search on line on the gov website to find out.

        They want expats to vote so that all the cunts living in Frog and Deigo land bolster the remain side…

        • Cheers Dio. I’ll look into that. I’m just under the 15 years so I might be OK. Yea for democracy!

          • 15 years……I’m guessing regular vocabulary now includes “sidewalk” and “elevator”……

          • Nope. Pavement and lift all the way. I’m proud to say that my English accent is intact too.

            I tease my wife all the time about her accent. Hearing her say “tomato” is hilarious. But she does say “bollocks” now which is funny in a Yank accent. She’s a good egg. Drinks tea, appreciates a decent pint and follows the footy on telly with me. She claims to have ‘honourary Brit’ status, but as we like to say, that’s bollocks! 🙂

          • First time I went to the States they asked me how I liked my eggs. Didn’t have a clue what they were talking about!
            “Out of a chicken’s arse” says I

          • Right there with you, Dio.

            Going out for breakfast is a thing in the US, but trying to order anything takes about 4 hours. They have about 27 different ways to order eggs (and I still don’t know what “over easy” means), about 15 variations for potatoes and if you dare order toast, you’d better sit back and enjoy the scenery while the waitress goes through all the different types of bread they have (white, wheat, whole wheat, rye, sourdough, corn bread, multi-grain, pumpernickel, bagel, English muffin, yada yada yada). And forget about ordering tea. Even if it’s on the menu and you order it, you’ll be served a bitter tasting pale brown liquid in a tall glass with ice and a straw! I kid you not!

            Just for a laugh I ordered a malt one time at a breakfast place. It was listed with the milkshakes and I thought, that’s all very Americana – how bad could it be? Answer: Very bad. It’s like an ice cold Horlicks smoothie and really only good for inducing projectile vomiting.

            It’s a wild ride over here folks.

    • Have indeed received my copy, Mr. B, and I respect my butt cheeks far too much to let this….filthiest thing…anywhere near ’em!!

        • Mine was expensively translated into Welsh, which made me doubly annoyed. I wonder how many other languages it’s translated into? Cunts.

  3. i made a reasonable living in my youth by trawling the water hazards of the local golf course at night and then selling them back to the dopey fuckers who lost them.
    The old fart at the clubhouse accused me of theft as they were “their” balls and would confiscate my sale items if he caught me, I got wise to him and would sell over the fence and reminded him about the laws of trespass and menace.
    Any way he’s dead now I am not so tough.

    • Good Enterprising spirit. Fuck him, and Fuck Golf. For what the cunts charge to play it they can buy a boxful anyway.

      • Golf clubs are popularly know as “Arsehole Farms” so I’m reliably informed. Cars park full of Audis and Lexus’ and clubhouses full of cunts wanking on about who’s got the newest one.

    • Used to do something similar myself except me and e my mate used to hide on the blind par 3 on Wimbledon Common Golf Course and nick the balls off the green.

      Our other trick was to pop out of the bracken and drop the ball in the hole then pop off back to the clubhouse to cash in on the free round of drinks for the hole in one!. I think they got a bit suspicious they we were always in the bar for this daily frequent rare event…

    • I never thought that in my lifetime I’d ever see the day when a Premier league match ticket was twice the price of a round of golf.

      And they are.
      Makes golf look cheap.

  4. Golf is the perfect game for the cad and the arriviste. Never had much time for it meself orf course but many is the dodgy stock tip that has been passed over a whisky or three in the club hoise. Last bastion orf the “old boy” and the “good fellow”. Golf is never aboit playing the game. Jumped up johnnies playing the class system. Cunts to an arse.
    A hole in one what!

    • Had a handicap of 6. Took it up because I went to a public school and hayed having the shit kickedd out of at rugger!

      Play 54 holes every week and you get quite good! Got bored with it 35 years Bach. Haven’t played since…

      PS now back in England spending the night in Geordieland where I’m told the ladies wear mattresses on their backs in case they meet a bloke they want to shag…

        • An aside here… one CD booklet I have says “Bach had seven children, and played the trumpet”
          Did the children drive him to it, or is there some sort of trumpet / fertility “thing” going on here.?
          Kirstie Allslopp could be well alright with that Spencer bloke. Wasn’t she “only in his hotel bedroom ‘cos I was locked out of mine” or something priceless like that?!

  5. I concede that it takes a certain amount of skill to get a small ball into a small hole that is 400 yards away in 3 or 4 goes using only a wedged stick. I get it. But it’s not the most exciting thing ever, especially on TV. Some sports lend themselves to TV coverage and some do not. Golf does not. As Jasper Carrott once said about gold on TV, “hours and hours of televised sky”. ‘Nuff said.

  6. Golf wankers are so tragically cuntish it almost makes you feel sorry for them, until you remember they’re golf wankers. The game of choice of Masons (apart from soggy biscuit and drunken “experimenting”). Cunts to a man. And woman.

  7. Golfs for massive cunts with small cocks,fishings much better and cheaper too

    • Fishing is ace, it suits me jus fine cause I mostly hate people and going to the golf course you find all kinds of stuck up dodgy cunts.

  8. When my mates and I were slightly too young to drink in pubs, we got pissed elsewhere and ended up decorating the local snooty golf club with some traffic cones.

    Last thing I remember was pissing myself laughing as my mate dropped his pants and squattied over the 18th hole…

    • That has reminded me, when were were delinquent teenagers we used to play on the local pitch and putt course, (IN the council park) we were eventually banned for ‘dangerous play” (bringing our own drivers).
      The man who ran the course from his little shed where you got your clubs (8 iron and putter, 1 ball and a scorecard for £2.50) told us never to come back or he would call the police.
      We had the last laugh, at night we went down there, jumped the park fence and proceeded to write CUNT in lighter fluid in letters 3ft high on the 18th green before setting it alight.
      It would have been the first thing he saw the next morning when he opened up his shed 🙂
      We went back a few days later and you could clearly see CUNT scorched in to the 18th green lol

      I miss being a young delinquent, happy days, so much better than trolling people on the Internet, real-life trolling for the win!

      • Aye! I feel a bit guilty now for the green keeper who had to clean the shit up, but at some posh nobber got shitty finger just in time for luncheon.

        • I also took a dump in one of the holes of my local golf course, good times……

  9. Willie Thorne was once asked if he thought golf was like snooker,
    to which he replied, “Yes, but I’ve never lost a snooker ball”

  10. Golf never attracted me. It can be skilfully played and the possibility of establishing business contacts apparently equals that of a Rotary club. Not having ever been a Rotarian I do not know. Which brings me to my point: Business referral organisations need an immediate cunting in my humble opinion. Recently I was invited to breakfast with a local chapter of an allegedly worldwide organisational network numbering some 7,500 plus chapters.
    I went along and paid $20 for a cup of arsenical coffee and questionable pastry. I was asked to give a 30 second pitch for my business. I was then applauded, asked to be seated and told to ‘listen up’ to the chapter’s heavy hitters one minute spiels. Afterwards the chapter secretary thrust an application form into my fin and said ‘we need you to join right away!’ Further enquiry revealed that if I am accepted (discreet enquires lead me to believe that nobody in the history of the world has ever had an application rejected) I then pay $800 per year – plus $20 per week for hair oil sardines should I want them – for the dubious pleasure of receiving homework from the group in the form of introducing new members, scoring leads for other chapter members, and for having one-on-one sessions with a passing parade of pains in the arse who, though their own businesses struggle to turn a buck, will glibly tell me how to improve my business.
    I did not join.

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