Thursday 30 August 2012

Sally-Part 78. THE DOG THAT RUINED OUR DAY!

AND WHO WOULD WANT TO LEAVE THIS VIEW ? OUR CARAVAN VERANDA IN DUMFRIES AND GALLOWAY
Shirley hardly moves off the veranda when we're here at our caravan overlooking the ocean close to Gatehouse Of Fleet and this year, as I decided not to re-join the local golf club, neither do I !

But a couple of weeks ago we joined the " Scottish National Trust " A) Because it was half the price of joining the English one and can be used reciprocally in England and B) Because there are several " Trust " properties to visit in South West Scotland .

My speaking with a swarthy Glaswegian accent needs working on for when I show the passes but I've so far managed, "Och Aye The Noo Hen! 'Tis indeed a broad bricht moonlicht nicht the nicht ! " to the lady who asked me if I'd visited her particularly boring edifice before !

Today, sitting baking and enjoying the roar of a tempestuous sea we talked ourselves into visiting a nearby property which I probably shouldn't name but was twenty miles to the east !

There was only one car-parking place left and as I got out I saw a black Labrador panting in a locked car which had no windows open and whilst Shirley, nomally a person unprepared to get involved, marched off to report the outrage, I went back to the dog's car and noticed a barely opened roof-light which at least let in some air.

Shirley then returned with a woman "Trust" worker who agreed that something should be done but "The Trust" held no sway over what occured in the car park.

In the reception area a truly horrible and uncaring old volunteer insisted that "They" could do nothing about it and that it was up to us to phone the RSPCA if we chose to !

I have  completely wrongly and undeservingly occasionally thought that I was married to the most impatient woman in the world but my wife is an angel compared to this foul-toothed hag who frankly dismissed our concerns with contempt !

We chose not to get further involved as other members of staff gathered to discuss the matter and so we set out to explore the beautiful grounds, staring with hatred at all the other visitors who we thought definitely looked capable of such thoughtless cruelty their dog !

The gardens were sheltered from the gale force winds blowing through the trees as Shirley drooped in the sweltering sun and the temperature soared well into the early teens!

She complained that she couldn't possibly enjoy the visit as all she could think of was " That poor dog !"

One step into the greenhouse and she swooned into a heap and staggered out with me  pouring a bottle of iced water over her head !

Thankfully, despite the unbearable weight of my rucksack, I was able to follow her and quickly hand her her other absolutely necessary accoutrements!

Firstly and why I hadn't got the tube to hand earlier I'll never know despite her repeatedly demanding to know, came the " Anti-Thigh-Rub-Gel " which I had to slap on in copious amounts !

Then the variously higher factored sun creams, visors ( both the disguised 'Lanzarote' one and the ' Playboy' one ! ), wellies, sun hats ( stiff one  and floppy one ) sandals ( open-toed ones  and closed-toe ones with different heel types ! ), wet flannels with room temperature water or iced water already applied for her to either approve and use or disapprove and fling back at me with unconcealed contempt, tweezers ( don't ask ), picnic blankets ( the new one for dry areas and the older mangy one for wet areas ), apples, oranges, chocolate, chewy bars sandwiches and a litre of gaseous spring water, all hopefully to last the entire one hour visit !

Ignoring the " WARNING ! WARNING ! WARNING ! " signs which were everywhere advising us against leaving the tarmac path, I followed her onto the sodden grassed slopes, apologising to her for not telling her that the heaviest rain ever to have fallen on the county had rendered the land impassable, despite her having read every weather forecast in the world prior to setting out!

We slithered to safety, leaving great skids across the manicured lawns and again left  a Trust property without adding a stamp to our 'Buy Nine Get One Free National Trust Tea And Coffee Voucher ' , our sandals and feet barely liftable under the weight of mud clinging to them !

Oh ! And the dog ? What dog ?

Sally-Part 77. OTHER PEOPLES' PRIVATES..AND TOTALLY UNSUITABLE FOR ANY DECENT PERSON TO READ ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !

A VERY PRETTY PICTURE TOTALLY UNRELATED TO THE STORIES YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ AS I DIDN'T THINK I OUGHT TO PRINT PHOTOS OF THE PARTS ABOUT TO BE MENTIONED !
I THOUGHT THAT THIS ONE AND IT'S FREUDIAN CONNECTIONS BELONGED WITH THE DEFLOWERING TALE BUT I CAN'T GET IT TO PRINT THERE !

                                                                                                                                                                                                                          THIS BLOG DEALS IN HORRIFIC DETAIL ABOUT GENITALIA ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !
I stood clenching the veranda rails gasping in air and trying not to be sick as my eyes stared unseeing whilst the raging surf mercilessly pounded the foreshore two hundred feet beneath me!

No-one and especially not me should have watched the episode of ' Embarrassing Bodies ' which I had just seen, where a young mother with a web cam at home reported a vaginal prolapse and then revealed her problem to an unready world !

It wasn't the shaven ugliness but the double piercings that did for me!

Nearly as much as what the sight of a thick-set fifty year old man who revealed the outcome of a shallow, rather than full-vaginal transexual operation did to me, an unprepared small leathergoods manufacturer as well as the rest of the world !

I started to think a chain of thoughts that frightened and disgusted me !

Like...who actually performs such piercings or operations ? Why would anyone want to have their most sensitive parts pierced or removed or turned inside out to provide a reception area for other worryingly strange men ? Or rendered unnaturally hairless ?

I once had a young man at my stall who I had shown some compassion towards a couple of years earlier when, dressed as a woman he had told me of his struggles dressing and living as a woman for the required two years before being allowed to be operated on.

When I next saw him he told me that although he was still waiting for his breast enlargements he was now a lady down below and still a virgin !

I wished him luck and good fortune with his future life with a determined finality in my voice, fixed stare and firm handshake all of which barely concealed my rising hysteria as I tried to hide my fear that he would be requesting ME to deflower him !

Did the lady give birth with both the upper and lower piercings in place and as nature requires maximum stretching would the metalwork not have caused the baby and mother some discomfort ? Did she attend her ante-natal classes ' pins-intacto' ? What do doctors and midwives think when they see these things? And could the lady I once saw with over two hundred internal piercings hope to one day have children ?

I know that one of 'The Twins' will know the answer to these questions if she can ever look me in the eye again !

I STILL don't know which twin is which !

I was once a little curious about changing the appearance 'downstairs' and not meaning to make you all sick as you read this at breakfast, when I was twenty one I was lying in the bath in my parents' house when my father, the local doctor, walked in unannounced and vomited when he noticed that a girlfriend had shaved a part of me which lies a little below the belly button into a heart shape! ( Sorry, no surviving photos ! )

 NO ! I hadn't done it myself and YES ! I really did have a girlfriend !

And I'd 'done' hers ! ( I've still got THESE photos ! )

YUK ! YUK ! YUK ! Now maybe but then ? YUM !YUM !YUM !

" Shirley ! " I'd choked, " This is disgusting ! "

" Then don't watch it you pervert and anyway I want to watch the re-run of ' DEAL' ! So give me the remote ! "

" NO ! I've got to watch it ! "

" Sod off ! You've had control of the TV for four minutes and that's your lot ! Anyway, haven't you got your bloody blog to write ? "

I just had time to peer through my spread fingers as a young man, also with a web-cam displayed the shattered end of his doodah ( NOTE: vagina for women and transexuals and doodah for men ! ) from which he'd had his ring ripped during a rugby match tackle !

Why hadn't the idiot removed it before taking to the pitch ?

Even Dr.Chris swallowed hard and winced unprofessionally when he saw that one !

The entire crew must howl with laughter off camera and at Christmas parties mime the worst patients' sufferings to rapturous hoots of joy !

We do our own version of 'EMBARRASSING BODIES CHARADES' in my house after we get all the neighbours round and we've all had a good drink and I can't recommend the idea highly enough !

And to those who think I am sick, did you actually feel as sick as I did when the fertility Lord unnecessarily produced a dishful of his own sperm to illustrate sperm ?

It raised questions of what is acceptable on TV and what is not.

Anything to do with ladies various downstairs problems is OK !

Like thirty-times-an-hour adverts for Tena Lady and Tampax, just because no-one could possibly associate leaking parts with sexuality !

But mention a gentleman's sensitive concerns and it's ' filth ' !

And away from the TV, should a gentleman show interest in reading 'Real Life ' experiences of a window cleaner then he's likely to have his collection of similar literary magazines hurled at him in a blind fit of hysterical screaming and claims that he doesn't love her when " All I've ever done is pander  to your perverted needs ! "

But now, as if by magic, a woman has produced several volumes of fantasy about a much younger man who repeatedly ties her up, whips her and torments her before overwhelmingly satisfying her, that have sold by the truckload, causing great dissatisfaction amongst others of her sex and IT'S 'literature' !

YEH ! YEH ! YEH !

If you haven't worked it out yet ladies, men want their tea on the table and VERY little else !

And if you wouldn't mind falling asleep before things got going then all the better !

In a similar vein about 'Bits' for those of you who are still reading this, I mentioned in ' Tokyo, Not For The Feint-Hearted ! ' the tale of the elderly lady who asked my wife if she had also received a letter from 'Colonsay Council' claiming that 'Dogging' was of growing concern on the Island and  requesting her not to take part in case word got out and brought additional unwelcome visitors to the place !

The letter had actually been written and planted by her naughty husband and was of course a practical joke !

But that didn't stop me getting an email from a reader who thought that my story was well observed or somesuch and then when I clicked on her site, it was an actual 'Dogging' site, complete with full-action photos.

I spent several hours examining some very gruesome subject-matter before replying that I had no interest in her practices !

Her name was "AMBER" if any other men want to write her a disapproving note !

The trouble with writing in the caravan and not in the privacy of my room is that Shirley has to pass me quite regularly on her way to prepare more food and coffee for me and she finds it almost impossible to do it without making one or two caustic comments, like ," You type 'Camp' and you haven't trimmed your eyebrows properly !"

I mean, I'm the one who's supposed to be intolerant of minorities but in reality I tolerate everyone and she none !

How insulted will those few people be who are 'Camp'  when they read her admonition?

Shirley actually used another word when she criticised the way I type with only my two middle fingers whilst the rest are held curled upwards in a sweeping manner reminiscent of posh people drinking tea in a " National Trust " tea room or of 'Camp' people talking to others in a rather unnecessarily florid manner but she won't let me use it in case ' Camp' people are offended !

Her general impatience extends to having to acknowledge the existence of all other humans should she come into contact with any of them on her rare excursions out of the house !

Only last week we visited a newly "National Trusted" house just five minutes from home and as I walked up the stairs to the fire-gutted main hall, I spotted the volunteer standing at the entrance holding a bell on a spring!

And he had spotted his next victim..Shirley !

He had obviously been instructed to talk to people as if they were about three years old and as I sidled to the wall-charts I sniggered to myself as he closed in for the kill on the most impatient and intolerant woman in the world!

And don't think of bothering me with Emails claiming your woman is even more impatient and intolerant than mine because it's NOT possible !

" Hello there ! " he condescended, " I bet you couldn't imagine being a servant two hundred years ago and being able to recognise each of over two dozen bells arraigned over your head in the kitchen, each one associated with a different room? "

Shirley's trite "No." spoke volumes to me, a grinning idiot but washed over the man's head as he continued by telling her his entire and unrequested life history!

She kicked me hard on the shin when she finally escaped !

We once again didn't have tea or coffee as we hadn't at other " Trust" properties, preferring instead a short snooze before the three mile trip home on which I hoped I wouldn't get lost and so our "BUY NINE GET ONE FREE NATIONAL TRUST DRINKS VOUCHER CARD " remained worryingly blank !











Thursday 16 August 2012

Sally-Part 76. YET ANOTHER TALE OF MY PRIVATES !

IT WAS THIS YOUNG MAN'S CONCEPTION THAT EVENTUALLY LED TO MY DEVASTATING VASECTOMY !
I walked into the Obstetrics ward carrying a bottle of  Lucozade to toast my newest child's birth and to congratulate my wife on her stirling effort to repopulate Blyth when I heard her Consultant saying, " Sorry for the delay Mrs. Nash but we're running a little behind and I just wanted to make it clear that I'm not happy to tie off your 'tubes' during a caesarian as they'll be very swollen and the sterilisation might fail ! However I'm quite happy to perform a vasectomy on your husband next week and Ah! here he is now so I'll just get him to sign the consent form whilst I'm here!

I dropped the glass bottle which smashed into a thousand shards, blindly signed the form and my hair started to turn at least fifty shades of grey !

I forgot all about the impending birth or that my wife might be feeling a little anxious and sat rocking and murmuring " No no no no no! What have I done to deserve this? Contraception is NOT my responsibility !"

I got 'nadgered' as a day patient in the obstetrics ward where a reception committee of heavily pregnant women badgered and cat-called  me on arrival and called my manhood into question when I left six hours later in a wheelchair!

Shirley thought I was play-acting as I crawled from my taxi to our front door !

But I wasn't and started dying !

I couldn't stand, I couldn't sit! I couldn't lie down and finally I couldn't breathe !

The emergency Doctor told me to stick my face in a paper bag, breathe slowly and relax!

I stopped hyperventilating and tried to put a brave face on my horrendous experience, caused by my being a weed who didn't drink at all, let alone the amount a Northern man drinks and  got given a dose of general anasthetic large enough to knock out a horse or a Northern drinking man !

A week later with my left epidydimous or epydidimous or epididymous  (you'll have to look it up) swollen enough to cause excruciating pain I returned to the clinic to be told that the reaction was normal and would continue to cause me problems for the rest of my life !

And then six weeks later having 'provided a sample' to an extremely young and attractive receptionist I was ushered into a consulting room to be told by a Nigerian doctor that " Your sperms are deaded!"

My hair was by now totally grey !

Men, this is a true tale and a real warning....DON'T DO IT !

There are no photos with this Blog !


Tuesday 14 August 2012

Sally-Part 75. I SHOULD BE DEAD ! THE REWRITE ! IF I'M FOUND WITH A KNIFE BETWEEN MY SHOULDER BLADES, SHIRLEY DID IT AND WHO WILL BLAME HER ?

Me and bins and dustbin lorries ! Kuh !

Many years ago when Julian was about twelve and already an all-knowing adolescent I flashed my rather full wallet at him after a particularly successful week's show and said, " All mine matey Aha !" or something equally piratical that he didn't laugh at !

Actually, I can't recall Julian ever finding me funny and I could never get him to 'surrender' either ! My other children always gave in, if not when I tickled them beyond screaming to their mother for help, then when I knelt across their necks to stop them breathing ! Oh ! They had a great childhood !

But never Julian !

He grabbed my wallet with six hundred odd quid in it, chucked it in my workshop bin and walked out!

I was obviously already well on the road to senility as I instantly forgot about it and left it there.

Now I did have a very serious dose of man-flu at the time and for once said to Shirley, " I feel awful and I'm going to bed for an hour and she replied kindly;

 " You're pathetic and don't forget that the bin-men'll be here soon and you haven't emptied your bin into the dustbin yet so do it now or is that too much to expect of you cos I wont be able to lift it when it's full of your rubbish and much too heavy for me and don't you worry cos I'll have the kids and cook tea while you're snoring your head off and don't lie on my side cos I don't want to catch anything from your dribble and don't even think of reading cos if you're as ill as you're pretending to be you'll have one of your visual migraines that everyone knows you make up to get you out of stuff and how come we women just keep going however ill we feel or how would the world carry on without us but not men eh oh no a snivel and they've not long to live well don't just stand there go to bed as you do look awful but then there's no change there then is there and don't even think that you can call me upstairs for any of your nonsense and your eyebrows need trimming!"

So I emptied my bin into the dustbin and put the dustbin out and went to bed and woke up screaming an hour later and ran out to the street shouting, " Nooooooooooooooooooooo! "

But oh yes ! The bin lorry had long been and gone, taking my wallet with it !

And despite hysterically digging up the dump in the spot that the foreman said they'd dumped my street's rubbish and actually finding some of our identifiable waste, my wallet and it's lovely money never turned up !

Postscript...My insurers believed my improbable story and payed up half the amount and then refused to insure me again !

Then many years later I was sitting 'doing' my books when Shirley reminded me that I had some rubbish to throw in the bin just after the bin lorry had been .

So rushing out with a big box held on one hand at shoulder height I called out, " OK if I chuck this in ? " and given the nod, did so but not without activating the bin lifting device which came up at great speed, grabbing me under my wallet which I kept in my front left pocket and instantly lifted me up and had just started to throw me through the rubber curtains into the body of the truck where it turned out the ram was on it's way to crush me, when my jeans tore and I was thrown clear, landing mangled in a heap on the road!


This all took two seconds and as the bin men were away collecting bins, they couild do nothing but stare in terror for they would have been in great trouble for contravening 'health and safety' !

One of them managed to lunge for the emergency stop button about ten seconds after I would have been killed which was a pointless act !

They were worried....that they'd lose their jobs if I reported the incident but I assured them that it was my fault and that as I hated the 'compensation culture ' that was in it's first flush of sueing anything that moved, I would not be reporting anything and with that they left and I staggered back indoors battered and bruised and bleeding and with my jeans ripped asunder !

Shirley didn't look up but said, " You took your time didn't you ? "

That's when I fainted !

Now many men have probably worked out that to lift a man by his front pocket means that forces would be brought to bear bringing the crutch seam of the jeans rather uncomfortably tightly up against the most delicate parts of a gentlman's anatomy !

Correct !

" And Doctor " I said a week later, " That's how and why 'they' look immensely swollen and are tender to the touch !"

He said, " That makes MY eyes water! " And sent me for an ultra-scan which was carried out by three very attractive ladies who smothered the aforementioned articles in a substantial amount of KY Jelly in order to spend not long enough, in my opinion, manoeuvering their probe around and over them before finding nothing wrong and  wiping me clean !

And that is as close to death as I ever wish to come !


Saturday 4 August 2012

Sally-Part 74. PUTTING ! THE FINAL ENTHRALLING GOLF INSTALMENT!

I ACTUALLY HIT THE BALL SO HARD IT EXPLODED ON IMPACT ! THE FIRST TEE AND JONATHAN'S ON THE BOOZE ALREADY ! ONCE AGAIN THE PERFECT FINISHING POSITION ! BECAUSE I TEND TO TAKE RATHER LONGER THAN MOST TO COMPLETE A ROUND WE HAVE TO START JUST AFTER SUNRISE IN ORDER TO GET BACK FOR SUPPER....HENCE THE LONG SHADOWS !
And finally we come to the whole point of golf which is to hit a small white dimpled ball for four or five miles, getting it into eighteen holes only slightly larger than the ball, in as few shots as possible !

I treat it as an opportunity to talk about myself, mostly to myself as it turns out, for up to five hours !

Most of the men I have ever played with take it and themselves far too seriously and are so intent on not talking to me that they don't ask me anything about myself !

My oldest, Jonathan, manages to talk about HIMSELF and criticise everything about ME and my game at the same time; from my clothing to my 'address', my 'backswing', my 'downswing', my 'follow through', my head's position, my elbows' positions, my knees', hips' and my hands' positions!

He tends to do this just as I start my downswing and it is a LITTLE off-putting !

But however unending and unwanted his comments are, I tend to end up on the green only one shot behind him !

He might 'play off' five but he is as able to hit as dreadful a shot as anyone else; as indeed he did recently !

I 'tee'd off' and frankly it wasn't a very good 'drive' ! In fact, although I had put all my strength ( which is only slightly less than Mr. Burns from the Simpsons ) into the shot , my mis-hit sent it six feet to the right!

And Jonathan said with utter pomposity, " Dad ! I have played golf thousands of times on hundreds of golf courses on five continents and I've never seen a worse shot than that in my LIFE !"

Julian, my other son who was also playing stood shaking his head in total disbelief at what I'd just done and he and Jonathan shared a 'look'!

Then we watched Jonathan go through his relentlessly time-wasting routine of wiggling, looking, waggling, looking, paddling, looking, knee-bending, looking, wiggling,waggling, paddling and knee-bending without looking before finally settling himself over his ball and then after clearing his throat and peering down the course three more times he launched a shot that went two feet left !

AFTER FIVE MINUTES OF WIGGLING,WAGGLING AND WIGGLING AGAIN JONATHAN FINALLY GETS TO TAKE HIS SHOT!
There's no other response than the one that came from Julian and I !

We exploded in gales of laughter and instantly collapsed to the ground with tears shooting out of our eyes and unable to breathe for about a minute but still able to point at Jonathan and howl again !

It is a truly humbling game and thankfully Jonathan laughed at his own appalling shot as much as we did !  NOT !

So to the putting green!

In the last Blog I explained how once on the green when playing on my own, I don't bother finishing off as I know I'll easily get the ball in the hole on my first attempt !

But when I'm playing with others I have to go through a ritual that is simply ridiculous !

Firstly you draw from your bag a flat-faced club called a 'putter' and after placing a small flat round marker behind your ball you pick up the ball, take it back to your bag and clean it on a stolen pub bar-towel, even if it's clean !

Then you inspect it minutely though I don't know why and replace it, remove the marker and step back several yards before crouching down on your haunches whilst holding your putter vertically off the ground and then with one eye shut stare at the flag via the club to work out angles, slopes, wind-speeds, dampness and other things!

Make sounds like, "Mm ! Yep ! Well well ! Good job I checked that !" and lots of other nonsensical grunts and stuff !

Stand up and repeat the procedure from many different places around the green before satisfying yourself that you have really irritated your competitors for long enough !

Stand slightly away from the ball and practice hitting the ball several times before actually taking up a comfortable stance by settling yourself over the ball with your feet a short way apart and stroke the ball confidently into the centre of the 'cup' . Easy !

 Except that the ball WILL miss the hole and you must then point at a blade of grass and say, " I cannot believe that ! Did you see THAT ? "

THE PERFECT PUTT ON IT'S WAY TO THE HOLE ! THE BOYS' TERROR OF LOSING TO ME WAS STARTING TO SHOW !
Then you take four or five more shots until the ball finally and reluctantly drops into the hole !

Pick your ball out and holding it up for everyone else to see say;
 "It's got to have been a manufacturing defect !"

Now it's time to move on to the next 'tee' where before you repeat the whole process you mark your card with the score that you would have liked to to have got on the last hole!

A most important final word of advice for you to remember........

If you take a large swig of brandy after every shot, you will enjoy the game much more than if you don't !

ENJOY YOUR GOLF !

WE DO !
                                                                      
                                                                          THE END



Sally-Part 73.GOLF....THE SECOND SHOT AND BEYOND. IT'S SUCH AN EASY GAME THAT EVEN WOMEN CAN PLAY IT !

ME ! A POWERFUL DRIVE AND A GREAT, GREAT FINISHING POSITION ! THE CALLY PALACE HOTEL GOLF COURSE
I'm assuming that you eventually managed to hit the ball forward !

It doesn't matter how far as long as it's in front of the tee and even if it is only a few inches or if by some miracle as much as six feet you must adopt a swagger of supreme confidence, as though you had meant your ball to end up where it did with you covered in mud!

Replace your 'driver head-cover' which should always look as immature as possible; by which I mean the head of  a soft toy like Garfield. Give it a resolute tug, shove it forcefully back into it's compartment giving your fellow players the impression that you feel that 'THAT' was a 'GOOD' strike and stride out towards your next 'stance' !

It may well be that you are only about to take three steps but take them with purpose and determination and call out ' Ah ! Here it is ! ' when you arrive, saying loudly, 'Good shot' ! to yourself as you take out your 'course yardage guide'.

If the 'hole yardage' was say 379 yards and you hit four feet then subtract four feet or one and a third yards from 379 and work out which club you'll need for the following shot using this handy mantra;
                                        
EACH SHOT BRINGS ME NEARER THE HOLE
AND EACH CLUB HITS FIFTEEN FEET LESS
SO I WILL CHOOSE RIGHT
AND ON THE WHOLE
I'LL END UP IN LESS OF A MESS!

I chant  this short verse to myself and repeat it regularly as I fall further and further behind my opponents !

So 379 minus 1 and 1/3 equals 377 and 2/3rds yards which is quite a long way and as you are not allowed to use your 'tee' or your 'driver' again on the same 'Fairway', you would be advised to take your lowest number ' iron ' which might be a '1' or more probably a '3' and will hit further than the higher numbered ones which is something that I'll explain later.

Or you could take your '3 wood' which is good for long 'ground' shots or your 'rescue club'. ( You must remember all these terms as there will be a test later ! )


PLAYING AFTER SUNSET ALLOWS YOU TO CHEAT WITHOUT BEING SEEN! YOU CAN'T SEE IT BUT I'VE KICKED MY BALL ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY YARDS NEARER THE FLAG !
Refer to your 'yardage' book again and note the position of single trees, bunkers, rough grass, out-of-bounds marker posts, lakes, forests, roads, slopes, buildings and the 'green' which is where you'll see a pole with a flag on it stuck in a hole which is your ball's ultimate destination, hopefully within an hour or two !

Before taking your second shot, eat a sandwich, a piece of fruit and a chocolate biscuit and have a large swig of brandy from your monogrammed hip-flask

Actually I recommend doing this before each shot and pretty soon you won't care about how many shots you're taking !

Now 'adopt' your stance a short distance away from your ball, practice your shot ten or more times and move into position.

Don't forget to look down the course up to twenty times, wiggling, shuffling and waggling at every opportunity before launching your ball with a new-found confidence and ferocity another few feet!

Repeat all the above instructions, selecting higher and higher numbered clubs until you arrive on the 'green' !

Right, 'The Numbering Of Clubs' !

Each successive club is angled backwards a few degrees more than the previous one and sends the ball higher into the sky, though as I remarked in my mantra, fifteen feet less in distance for each successive club.

I allow for a ' 6 ' iron to reach 150 yards and so it should be quite simple for you to work out all other distances with that as a guide, once you have become as good as me !

Try memorising THIS Mantra and you'll soon find yourself as close as I am to becoming a professional player:

THREE SEVEN NINE MINUS ONE AND A THIRD
LEAVES JUST UNDER THREE SEVEN EIGHT
THE LOWER THE IRON THE LONGER THE SHOT
AND THE LESS TIME OPPONENTS MUST WAIT!

Eventually you WILL arrive on the ' Green ' !

COW PATS ADD THAT EXTRA SOMETHING TO PUTTING! THE EIGHTH ON COLONSAY GOLF COURSE.
What you do when you get there is worthy of it's own Blog ........ so that's what it'll get !