This past Monday, I decided to take a trip to Kirkbrae Country Club in Lincoln, RI in attempt to support my buddies on the high school golf team. Sitting on the grass far behind hole one, I was eagerly awaiting tee off time to get rowdy for my school. My support was put to a sudden hault before it was even started, as I was asked to leave the viscinity on the charges of wearing a “tank top” (a fucking sick one I might add) and also “lying on the grass”. It was also described that my outfit made me look like a “chooch”, whatever the hell that is, you old man. I was not surprised to be thrown off the course, as I have been thrown off of my fair share of courses for throwing clubs, but that doesn’t mean that this wasn’t total BS.
Bottom line is I was not allowed to support my school’s golf team because the country club is full of rich pricks who pride themselves on the stiffness of their grass and crispness of their queer shirt collars. They’re lucky I was asked to leave when I was or else I would’ve been streaking the back nine and screaming vanitys at the opposing teams and club board of directors like it was nobody’s business.
I want to go to my team’s sporting events to support them and cheer them on. I want to be able to heckle the shit out of the other team for shanking a shot and proceed to jerk off our number one golfer after he nails an Eagle harder than Ray J nailed Kim K. Not sit by 50 yards away, watching through binoculars while golf clapping with my fingertips so that I don’t disrupt the old hardo’s tea party taking place on the deck.
Here’s what I propose:
- Fire all rich douchebags who run golfing country clubs.
- Hire a random hobo from the side of the street as the new club president, because he’ll definitely change the absurd clothing policy to allow ripped jeans with wife beater, and allow spectators to sit on the grass that he was accustomed to sleeping on for years.
- Require all golfers to wear visors. Atleast attempt to regain some respect back for the sport.
If they implement these three easy steps, I guarantee you that high school golf takes off faster than my mom at the sight of a spider. However, if the higher power ignore my concerns then I’ll be left with no other choice than to gather up a gang of my own rich guys from the Temple Beth-El and challenge Kirkbrae to a rich guy brawl over the rights of Kirkbrae Country Club. Ever been hit in the face by a flying yamaka or shanked by a dreidel? Doesn’t feel too good. You’ve been warned.