This is my 100th post — who knew I was this full of shit.
I love playing tennis, but I only “tolerate” watching it. I’d love to be a fan, if I could scream obscenities, dress up like an idiot and bring in…
It was 9:30 p.m. on a Tuesday and a bunch of us had just finished playing tennis in Gilbert — a perfect time for a drink.
Just like Trump running to Putin, this season one of the fucked up players on my tennis team went running to a bunch of “wanna be” winners. I was told “Traitor McGee” (not his real name, but close enough) wrote “a really nice note” on his way out […]
I’m thinking of buying a white van and a long rope, so I can get you dumb shits to follow the eternal fucking rules of rec tennis.
I can usually have a good night if I can just get my drugs right. It’s not as easy as it sounds.
I was denied summer camp as a child. I skipped the college dorm life. For a few years, I filled the camp/dorm fake nostalgia with Newks tennis camp.
If I hit some bullshit tennis shot off the net and it falls in for a winner, don’t hold your breath waiting for that pussy little hand wave
I killed way too many brain cells this past weekend with the Tucson Pendejos — again. But between beers (and some new alcoholic shit called the red devil or the red menance) something happened that restored just a little of my faith in humanity. We were all drinking […]
It’s the US Open mother fuckers, time to celebrate tennis. But I just had to go to the uspen.org website and fucking ruin it.
Tennis players are a bunch of cheap bastards, and for 40 years, I fit right in. But then I made the mistake of taking the Bear to Indian Wells.
One of the reasons people gave me for going to La Jolla last month was to “barbecue on the beach”. What the fuck? Pussy Joe and Patrick (the tallest Pendejo) kept telling me all about the BBQ rules at the La Jolla Beach and Tennis Club. “You can […]
I’m ashamed to admit I spent 5 fucking days looking for a beer in San Diego. Worse? When I quit trying, the Bear found it in 2 hours…
Look down when you are leaving the bar at the 3rd world racquet club — one of these steps is not like the others. It’s blonde and has a slightly different pattern
The competitive drunks who conned me into a Texas trip last year, invited me for a weekend in the mountains. I was the first one to say “yes.” My bowels have been giving me shit ever since.