Whack Unprintable

His Nibs and his “Sinister”, as he calls her, took me ‘gophing’ (The Nipper for two years referred to golfers as ‘gophers’, which quite confused many people for a bit) yesterday. I rather enjoy gophing. But here’s the thing – I don’t give a fiddler’s fart whether there are people behind me – if they’re faster than me they can skip ahead of me (they call this “playing through”, don’t you know). I don’t much care what you’re supposed to wear or not wear. I don’t really care about all that ‘gentlemenly’ business.

So this means I get to save rather a lot of money by *not* playing on courses where these things matter.

His Nibs can be somewhat …insistent… that, even on little par-three courses where, according to the really good gophers around here, that kind of stuff doesn’t matter, we follow The Rules. Rules, I say, rules are suggestions, really. People don’t *actually* care if you wear sandals on this course. People don’t *actually* care if your Sinister and I share a set of clubs. Besides, knowing the way your Sinister gophs, she’ll probably hit anyone from the staff with a ball, so we have nothing to worry about.

“Be nice,” His Nibs says.

“No, she’s right,” his Sinister says. “Last time I was here, I think I just about hit someone on every hole.”

“And you hit every tree on the course!” I say helpfully to His Nibs.

His Nibs sighs *meaningfully* and begins some crazy stretching thing.

But here’s the deal – it’s terribly fun. When it doesn’t matter, it’s terribly fun. His Nibs said, “should we keep score?”

And I said, “the only person who’s going to be bothered by the score you keep is you, so it’s probably a Bad Idea for your own enjoyment of the morning.”

We don’t keep score. Fun should not include arithmetic and figurin’.

Here, I have to say to Sean-by-the-Sea, “You told me so. And you were right.”

Gophing. Huh. Who knew?

cenobyte
cenobyte is a writer, editor, blogger, and super genius from Saskatchewan, Canada.

6 Comments

  1. Parmeisan – “gophing” used to be called “Whack Fuck” where I grew up. Hemingway uses words like “unprintable” and “obscenity” to represent unprintable obscenities. For instance, one character might say: “Where the obscenity did you get that unprintably ugly unprintable lamp?”

    Also, yes. “Math” might be fun to do just for fun. But Arithmetic is not. I used to do calculus for fun. But adding is Bad Mojo. Baaaad mojo.

  2. I still don’t get the title. Should I? Is there something to get?

    And I do math for fun all the time. Geometry. Algebra. Prime numbers – the Golden Ratio (golden ratio), which everyone should know about. It shows up in humans and sunflowers and everywhere! Also, Calculus, occasionally. Calculus for fun, I mean, not the Golden Ratio in Calculus, although it might.

    I don’t do addition for fun, though. Addition is never fun. Addition made me cry once as a child. Be-warned! Addition makes children cry!

  3. Dude! I read this a few minutes after you posted it. I JUST GOT THE TITLE NOW. I’m so tired. I thought exercise was supposed to make you more alert and stuff.

    Back to my arithmetic and figurin’.

  4. Sorry, this is another of those situations in which you will understand how very wrong you are, and how very right cenobyte is, once your treatments have been completed and your brain has been fixed.

    arithmetic and figurin’ should *not* be a part of any “fun regime”.

    The trash heap has spoken.

i make squee noises when you tell me stuff.

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