Yesterday Chris and I got another chance to socialize ourselves with the fairway again. However, this time the way was not fair as usual, neither were the weather, gear, nor the trip itself - over 140 km around! For Chris, it was a revolution, a venture and a successful probe to show himself attested, eligible for the coach postion as a promising pro; as for me, it was a turnover, an explicit reveal of my current rusty physical status along with a shaky performance of full swing, on condition that the relentless northern wind and freezing sleet simultaneously strike me.
I was so proud to name Chris to step onto a higher stair to a serious golfer, no nonce word. He did the swing with stability and self-confidence after some warm-up holes, with flexible knees and resilient stamina, shuttling back and fro searching for my lost balls, and, wow, also with amazing calmness, pacified emotion, and poised reaction when nagged by the fking counter clerk between the in- and out-courses for our seemingly deliberate procrastination of playing. Well, is that really big deal for a layman doing midwifery for over 4 hrs as long as the mother and the baby are both safe and healthy? The fkr was too fussy to be mentioned of course, and I meant the smart guy he was fussy about. It was the fkr's fussiness to make this guy distinguished, and it was his smartness that showed me the image of true wisdom - an absolute neutralism over any unnecessary accusation and malicious slander.
To take a look of myself, a poor little oldie with eroded skeleton and putrefied muscles, you may easily find that I am not even aware of the right hands grip, with the very which though I played jk off over hundreds of thousands of time since my very childhood, so adeptly and with dexterity. I just didn't know they are the same thing, not to mention to know surprisingly the left hand grip is nothing but squirting mortar, easily making a full swing to its climax just with a simple wriggle.
To play jk off is human, to use the same idea to ease your left torso is HONMA.
To have peaches squirt is EAGLE, to use the same idea to hit an eagle is the very guy who also owns albatross.
I am proud of that guy, and I thank him for sharing me his gimmicks, especially with so vivid illustration and funny hints. And by the way, he showed me later the way to Chi-lin Street, another new venue for us maybe to glean more golden legacy of the Great Glorious Fourteen.
Now interested in the Part One? Go asking Chris.
I was so proud to name Chris to step onto a higher stair to a serious golfer, no nonce word. He did the swing with stability and self-confidence after some warm-up holes, with flexible knees and resilient stamina, shuttling back and fro searching for my lost balls, and, wow, also with amazing calmness, pacified emotion, and poised reaction when nagged by the fking counter clerk between the in- and out-courses for our seemingly deliberate procrastination of playing. Well, is that really big deal for a layman doing midwifery for over 4 hrs as long as the mother and the baby are both safe and healthy? The fkr was too fussy to be mentioned of course, and I meant the smart guy he was fussy about. It was the fkr's fussiness to make this guy distinguished, and it was his smartness that showed me the image of true wisdom - an absolute neutralism over any unnecessary accusation and malicious slander.
To take a look of myself, a poor little oldie with eroded skeleton and putrefied muscles, you may easily find that I am not even aware of the right hands grip, with the very which though I played jk off over hundreds of thousands of time since my very childhood, so adeptly and with dexterity. I just didn't know they are the same thing, not to mention to know surprisingly the left hand grip is nothing but squirting mortar, easily making a full swing to its climax just with a simple wriggle.
To play jk off is human, to use the same idea to ease your left torso is HONMA.
To have peaches squirt is EAGLE, to use the same idea to hit an eagle is the very guy who also owns albatross.
I am proud of that guy, and I thank him for sharing me his gimmicks, especially with so vivid illustration and funny hints. And by the way, he showed me later the way to Chi-lin Street, another new venue for us maybe to glean more golden legacy of the Great Glorious Fourteen.
Now interested in the Part One? Go asking Chris.
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