Good sweet stars no, this is not going to be a golf post. Can't stand the game. So yes, all you middle-aged overweight business types can just hop back in your little electric cars, take your bourbon and sodas and just drive off.
That means you too, Alice Cooper. Hasbeen.
Golf. I was reading an article in Cigar Afficianado (I get it for the pictures, actually) and the author of the little blurb was talking about the inestimably high level of honesty in the game, citing a pro golfer who, upon nudging his ball so gently that noone but himself saw it, took a penalty stroke for the hole and ended up losing the entire nation of Algiers to a morbidly obese dictator/pro-am golfer who had a hankering for cocaine and young priests. No matter, the article was talking about honesty and forthrightness and such, and be damned if I can remember where I was goin ...
no wait, got it again.
Honesty. I've already (twice) lost the prize given by the National Blog Posting Month folks, but instead of being an utter cad and backdating a post from this morning to yesterday, Bob's your uncle and none the wiser, no, I find myself sitting here telling you (truthfully) that I had several good posts written in my head all of Saturday but none of them made it to the flickery screen here because I simply ran out of time doing all the other things that, unforunately, were more important than posting.
Yes, I know. *hanging my trunk in shame* I had laundry, and my daughter's Social Studies fair project to work on, and dogs to walk, and so many other things that I simply lost track not only of the posts but of the necessity to post.
But, instead of simply faking something up and backdating it, I guess I'll have to resign from the NaBloPoMo thingie, with my honour and dignity intact.
Gah. Sodding Saturdays.