And then mock you as you stand in disbelief.
Kind of like nature flipping you the bird.
You must be near Snottsdale. 😉
“You can’t touch this! (TY MC Hammer)
In 6 years in ‘Vegas I learned the virtues of carrying a junk 6-iron in the bag– the benevolent ‘Rock Club’ to save any of the 13 others when desired shots went south… (or north, or west, or east, or into the venerable saguaru-golf-god pictured above. (note chunks out of lower levels… Yep — if you could reach ’em, they were PLAYABLE!)
Let’s not jump to conclusions. This COULD be where golf ball come from.
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