UnpleasantlySexy

After a terrific weekend of resorting and rain-saturated golfings, I now present you with a very dumb thing.

But first, I should explain:

See, the golf course that we played on Sunday was, bar none, the most difficult course I have ever had the pleasure of whacking balls on. I should have known, as each hole had been given a name on the scorecard - and at least one was named for some horrifically bloody Vietnam battlefield. The golf was SO bad, in fact, that by hole number 14, we had abandoned keeping score altogether, mainly because there wasn't enough space on the scorecard to fit three-digit numbers in the little boxes.

This prompted a new kind of scorekeeping, where Ryan and I decided to compete, hole by hole, for various titles, such as "Long Drive King" and "Pin Seeker." We're dorks, I know, but the dork-o-meter is about to shoot off the charts. Upon returning home, after being mentally and physically pillaged by this golf course, I made some trophy balls that we could exchange on our next outing. They go to the guy who hits the longest drive, gets closest to the flagstick, and has the fewest amount of putts. Here, then, are the balls:
















Yeah, the putting award is a bit questionable in name, but now that it exists, I have to win it.

I have a few more to make - some rather vulgar ones - that we will desperately try to avoid winning (for exceptionally poor performance), but this is a family-oriented blog, if there ever was one, and I have some sort of image to maintain. At least until I get photos of 'em.

Sam + 15 minutes + permanent marker = wicked awesome balls