Diary of a disc addict. 7/28/2K10
(The acerbinky notes.) By Cameron Ficker
It was another great day in acerbinky world this week as we all went out for
are Wednesday round. This week it was Pier Park. A favorite of the long and strong.
The trees where green, the fairways where narrow and the beer was somewhat warm.
What more could you ask for. We had a couple of acer first timers. Glad you guys
could come out. We started with are usual safety meeting. Remember kids, safetyfirst…
We started a little late thanks to some slow ****s showing up at the last minute
and Bump’s insistences that an 8some of 5 year olds play through (why not, right). I got
off (get it) with the first group, chadW, Big Dog, Thomas, Kevin, and myself. The front
nine played really well and everyone in the group had some nice shots. We set a good
pace for the two groups behind us (did they keep up, no…cough…cough.). Everything
was great until the ninth tee pad. Then out of nowhere a runaway demon Roc came
straight at Thomas’s face. The Roc locked its beady red eyes with Thomas’s cold gazes
in a stare down for the ages. In a moment that defied time, Thomas pulled a Matrix
move that would make Keanu Reeves cry. As he leaned back, the razors edge of the disc
was only able to clip the cherry from the end of his cigarette, creating a cloud of sparks.
As the disc lay wounded on the ground a portal to hell opened and the Demon Roc was
sucked back into the ether, ala Army of Darkness. I pee’d myself a little. After the dust
settled, we tried to track down where this plastic horror had come from to no avail. Was
it one of the 5 year olds, was it the man in the camo kilt, or was it Diane Downs. We may
never know for sure (Bump). The only thing we may ever know for sure, is that Thomas
is a bout it bout it Muther ****er. Besides that, it’s all in the reflexes.
I finished 16over, (Awesome right), as did Craig. It was a playoff for the ages.
We decide on CTP, closes to the right post of the soccer goal. Being the nice guy that I
am I let Craig go first. As he limp wrested his disc out about 170ft., he kind of let out a
sissy shriek. Feeling both sick and a little sorry for his manhood, I decided to take it easy
on him. With my peerless skill and aim I place my disc just a foot or two past Craig’s. I
took the win and left him with, as much of his remaining dignity as possible. Win win.
All and all another great day for the AB. Next Wednesday it’s up to the mountain
for some fun in the sun at Ski Bowl. Safety meetings are always best at HIGH altitudes.
See yah on Wy’east ****es.
When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your
favorite head up against the barroom wall, and he looks you crooked in the eye and he
asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you
remember what ol' Cam Ficker always says at a time like that: "Have ya paid your dues,
Cam?" "Yessir, the check is in the mail."