memyselfnie

As opposed to noise to hate by, bucking the trend.

Ok, she’s beautiful.  She has a head on her shoulders with a brain attached.

She’s hawking better than the pied piper piping.  She doesn’t get confused.

But Vlad held his fire (twice), and somebody has got to go so,

let’s hold off on those new sanctions.  Last one under the limo/bus….

When the evidence says we have and we will?  Rodger Daltrey and the Who,

that’s who.  Maybe it’s time for another cruise missile attack, you know,

cause that, uh, played so well last year.  It was almost a week that the media

said things like Presidential, before they stopped that crap cold and got back to

reporting things like they wanna see them.  Besides, it’s not like we ever got

played in the M.E. before, and if we ever find those WMD’s in Iraq, there’s

gonna be hell to pay, not to mention a few trillion.  Plus interest.

I have another theory tho, since we’re pointing another finger.  It makes

alot more sense too.  Mueller did it.

Once upon a time, every year at Augusta’s Mt. Olympus they contest, then anoint.

There’s always names: Freddy, Phil, Rory, Bubba, Dustin,  Ian, Vijay, Bernhard…

There’s some magic involved.  This year, when Tiger played and rolled in an eagle,

there was some yelling (“He’s baack!”)  When journeyman extraordinaire Charley

Hoffman made a very appropo, almost karmic ace, there was some screaming.

To his credit, there was some joyful jumping up and down too.

There was John Rahm not crying when his ball hit ground and rolled in water.

He just kept playing.  There was Jordan Spieth being his awesome self.  Then

there was The Man from Orange making his charge.  None of which fazed

the leader, Patrick Reed. He just sailed on thru.  He didn’t critterise, didn’t

dehumanize, didn’t demonize, just let his sticks do the talking.

In other words, won with class.

But that was then, this is now. It’s Monday morn, 10:18, do you know where

your clubs are?