The day struck three p.m. and I had to get outside. Just to be outside. My frisbee golf discs were strewn about on a pile of my stuff (I'm moving house this weekend) and in sight, so frisbee golf it was. George Costanza style.
A trip to Colonial Park was made and some discs "thrown." I'm so terrible. Like really. But it's still fun. And that's not why I do it. It's mostly for the girls.
Ask yourself how many hotties you see latched on to the sculpted arms of frisbee golf champions.
Lighting it up.
FORE! It was an impulse round, so I didn't have time to muster other teammates. I had to set the timer to get some pics. I was pleasantly surprised with the results. Photographic results, that is. This shot landed in the soup.
I find my frisbees to be equally well adjusted for life on the land AND in the water. Amphibians you could say.
Majestic creek scenery.
Creek scenery with improper white balancing. Rookie mistake...
Hole three. I find my frisbee golf game is sloppy and wholly unpredictable but with marked moments of standout, unexplainable feats of greatness. Miracles, really.
Ice Catastrophe '07 hit the frolf course pretty hard too. Even more hazards for the novices to fight with. Glorious.
Sadly, when teeing off from hole 16 my entire arm flew off. You do the crime, you do the time, as we frolfers say. Notice the moon just beside my back.
Fortunately it was just a superficial limb separation. And studies show that a good war face adds significant distance.
But hey, I need some more peeps to play with, so you should come out. I promise I'll go easy on you. The first time.