Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Spaghetti Londonaise
First off, I have to make a couple of comments about the young Italians, as witnessed by yours truly in London. Technically it was late winter in London, and was quite an enjoyable temperature for the UK in February. I was comfortable in a long-sleeved shirt, with a light jacket to cut the wind. Much to my dismay and delight, almost every Italian woman under the age of 25 was wearing a cropped T-shirt, exposing their beautifully olive-coloured, goose-bumped midsections. In most cases, they also wore jackets or coats, but more times than not, the coats had completely non-functioning fur-lined hoods and reached about as far South as their shirts. Far be it from me to criticise fashion, but when fashion overrides functionality, there is a major in-pass. I can sympathise with high-heeled shoes that could otherwise serve as medieval torture devices, because sometimes you really need to make your butt look higher, elongate the calves, and add 4 inches of height. But, it is an entirely different situation when you are wearing a stocking cap, scarf, sunglasses the size of ski goggles, and a shirt that was intended for a toddler. Combine this with skin-tight stove-pipe jeans and a slight pot-belly with absolutely no concern for the “muffin-top” effect, and you have a picture that may be revered on the streets of Milan (or the trailer parks of BFE, Mississippi), but does not play in Pomgolia. Maybe I’m just old.
Now it’s on to the young Italian chaps. I spend about 80% of my time in an unshaven condition. That is because I am, above all, lazy. I am not all that particularly fond of wearing a beard, but it makes for less area to shave when I do get around to it. I find myself using the trusty beard trimmers at skin level to reduce a 3-day stubble back to a more acceptable day and a half stubble so that I do not appear to be 3-day lazy, but otherwise just temporarily sidetracked from grooming for 24 hours. The young Italian chaps seem to have the fashion-induced voluntary stubble down to an art in the image of Dr. McDreamy from Grey's Anatomy. Nevermind the blazing uni-brow as long as the stubble is a perfect 1.5 millimetres in length at a density of 3 hairs per square millimetre, and reaches no further up than 4 centimetres from the eye sockets and no further down the neck than 3 centimetres past the main break-line of the jaw. It is of great benefit, then, to have been blessed with perfect bone structure, so that the stubble template mask (sold at participating La Wal-Marte's) fits your face, making grooming hour in the morning more manageable.
I do believe there are stubble inspectors carousing the streets of Rome, employed by Armani and Dolce. They are armed with stubble gauges, monitoring the quality control of the intentionally unshaven faces of the Italian machismo. And it must be amazingly simple to buy clothing for the modern, urban youth of Italy. There is no longer a concept of boys’ and girls’ clothing. Interchangeable fashion has never been so simple since the days of Garanimals separates. But I digress…
So I’m in Perth, having arrived from London and Singapore…soon to come.
First off, I have to make a couple of comments about the young Italians, as witnessed by yours truly in London. Technically it was late winter in London, and was quite an enjoyable temperature for the UK in February. I was comfortable in a long-sleeved shirt, with a light jacket to cut the wind. Much to my dismay and delight, almost every Italian woman under the age of 25 was wearing a cropped T-shirt, exposing their beautifully olive-coloured, goose-bumped midsections. In most cases, they also wore jackets or coats, but more times than not, the coats had completely non-functioning fur-lined hoods and reached about as far South as their shirts. Far be it from me to criticise fashion, but when fashion overrides functionality, there is a major in-pass. I can sympathise with high-heeled shoes that could otherwise serve as medieval torture devices, because sometimes you really need to make your butt look higher, elongate the calves, and add 4 inches of height. But, it is an entirely different situation when you are wearing a stocking cap, scarf, sunglasses the size of ski goggles, and a shirt that was intended for a toddler. Combine this with skin-tight stove-pipe jeans and a slight pot-belly with absolutely no concern for the “muffin-top” effect, and you have a picture that may be revered on the streets of Milan (or the trailer parks of BFE, Mississippi), but does not play in Pomgolia. Maybe I’m just old.
Now it’s on to the young Italian chaps. I spend about 80% of my time in an unshaven condition. That is because I am, above all, lazy. I am not all that particularly fond of wearing a beard, but it makes for less area to shave when I do get around to it. I find myself using the trusty beard trimmers at skin level to reduce a 3-day stubble back to a more acceptable day and a half stubble so that I do not appear to be 3-day lazy, but otherwise just temporarily sidetracked from grooming for 24 hours. The young Italian chaps seem to have the fashion-induced voluntary stubble down to an art in the image of Dr. McDreamy from Grey's Anatomy. Nevermind the blazing uni-brow as long as the stubble is a perfect 1.5 millimetres in length at a density of 3 hairs per square millimetre, and reaches no further up than 4 centimetres from the eye sockets and no further down the neck than 3 centimetres past the main break-line of the jaw. It is of great benefit, then, to have been blessed with perfect bone structure, so that the stubble template mask (sold at participating La Wal-Marte's) fits your face, making grooming hour in the morning more manageable.
I do believe there are stubble inspectors carousing the streets of Rome, employed by Armani and Dolce. They are armed with stubble gauges, monitoring the quality control of the intentionally unshaven faces of the Italian machismo. And it must be amazingly simple to buy clothing for the modern, urban youth of Italy. There is no longer a concept of boys’ and girls’ clothing. Interchangeable fashion has never been so simple since the days of Garanimals separates. But I digress…
So I’m in Perth, having arrived from London and Singapore…soon to come.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
"To There and Back, a tale by Dildo Bogan" or "How Far to the Next Watering Hole?"
Okay, fast forward to December. I had just spent 2 months on site in QLD, and I came back to Kalgoorlie to pack my bags for my international trip that would take place at the end of January. I got sauced on Christmas Eve and had an unfortunate run-in with a Hill’s Hoist (a medieval torture device/rotating clothesline that dots Aussie backyards across the country). I wrecked my eye, but kept partying like a champ. It seems every time I drink in mass quantities, I experience something that makes me more and more Australian. The number of Aussie youths impaled by a Hill’s Hoist during summertime cricket games would be mind-boggling I’m sure. Add a pissed-up Seppo to the count now. So then I go back to Cannington on New Year’s Eve.
Fast forward again to January 25th. I fly off of site to Townsville, where I proceed to the bar to meet up with an old friend who now lives and works above the arctic circle in Canada. Booze, food, you know the deal. One of the group decides we should move the party somewhere else, like the pub. Half of the group leaves, and it is down to 5 of us (2 of which are uni vacation students who work at the mine). So we proceed to do what we do, like Jaegar bombs and “suitcases”. Let me explain the suitcase. 1 shot of Jack Daniels, 1 shot of lime juice. Mix in the mouth and hold it until the “suitcase master” tells you to swallow. It’s all about punishment. Your entire mouth goes numb, and once you do swallow it, lime and Jacks is not what you would call the ultimate in taste sensations! I decide at 4am it is time to leave, as I have a taxi coming at 4:45am to take me to the airport to board the series of 4 flights that would land me in New Orleans over the course of the next 18 hours. Shower, pack, taxi, fly, fly, fly, fly…The Big Easy, yay! 
So I do this conference thingy, where I present a paper that either nobody understands, or it is so magnificently written that nobody can criticize a single word. Bourbon Street is tame the week before Mardi Gras, and just as I’m leaving N.O., people start arriving for the festivities. My next few stops are as such: Arkansas, Texas, Arkansas, Missouri, Arkansas, Tennessee, Mississippi, Arkansas, and Texas. Each stop had its highs and lows, riddled with a couple of drunken tirades (thanks to beer, beer pong, wine, and liquor). As I remember the events:
1) Being the “significant other” at a hospital….pull the plug!
2) Boozin’ it up with the chicas at a swank club in D-town
3) My first encounter with real sushi and a faucet that was an engineers’ nightmare
4) Blue Hawaii Boone’s Farm
5) Redneck B-boys
6) Curiously ignorant wife sending her husband off to copulate with another crack-head girl
7) Beer pong with youngsters (where I got my ass handed to me)
8) Tearing a tin roof off
9) Ice storm
10) Midnight run to Tunica
11) Sassy waitress in the Flying Saucer and Irish Car Bombs
12) Losing my ass in Tunica (X 5)
13) Having enough comp points to buy a meal in Tunica (high-roller, baby)
14) Italian dinner with a moderately temperamental young lady
15) Ghost Hunters International
16) Texas Frightmare Weekend with bubby (see below with Malachai from Children of the Corn)
All in all, a fully-booked trip. I may go back and fill in some of the blanks, but don’t count on it.
So then I board a plane in Dallas for London. This is my first time in Europe, and I am looking forward to getting the stamp of another continent in my passport. I land in London, take the train into the city to my hostel, and store my bags. 1 hour after I arrive, I am on a walking tour of “Old London”, starting at the Tower Bridge and ending near Westminster lane. 3 hours of information and a great way to earmark the places you would like to go back to eventually if you had more time. The guide was excellent (thank you James), and the tour was technically free, but they did accept donations. It was a great tour, so I gave him 15 quid (roughly $30). Now there is something you have to understand about London. The GBP is about 2X the USD and the Aussie dollar, but you have to think of it as a dollar. The prices are about 2X what you would expect to pay in the US or Australia. So that ₤5 coffee is actually $10, but you have to think of it as a $5 coffee. Here are some pics from London: 
Tower Bridge (often mistaken for London Bridge. The actual London Bridge was bought by an American and is in Arizona in a lake. London bridge was destroyed many times over the years. Tower Bridge was built a couple of decades ago.)
St. Paul's Cathedral (it was the only building spared by the Germans during WWII bombing in this part of London) 
Church of the Knights Templar (can anyone say Divinci Code? The Templar Knights were actually bankers in the beginning!)
Westminster Abbey
T-Rex in the Natural History Museum
Honey, get the broom. Them damn Velocoraptors are on top of the cabinates again!
Some folks I met along the way...
Bill, you got some smooth lines! No, not William Shatner!
If there was ever a whirlwind tour of London, it was mine. Over the course of 2 walking tours, I got to see most of central London. The Underground system is a beauty if you have an all-day pass and can roughly read a map. The trick is finding the nearest tube station once you are out and about.
Highlights of London:
Templar Church
Westminster Abbey
Lord of the Rings (the musical)
Getting lost many times
So who is this narcissistic prick with pictures of him in his underwear? Oh, that’s me!
It has been such a long time since I wrote anything on here, I am sure my readership has gone to zero. It’s time for a massive update on what I’ve been up to since my bodybuilding show in September. Find a comfortable chair, as this is going to take a while.
Well, immediately after I finished my show and ate half of the food at an Italian restaurant in Perth, (miserable bastard). My other trainee (the guy anybody would be blessed to train) ate more than me, and did so for a week after.
It has been such a long time since I wrote anything on here, I am sure my readership has gone to zero. It’s time for a massive update on what I’ve been up to since my bodybuilding show in September. Find a comfortable chair, as this is going to take a while.
Well, immediately after I finished my show and ate half of the food at an Italian restaurant in Perth, (miserable bastard). My other trainee (the guy anybody would be blessed to train) ate more than me, and did so for a week after.
I went back to Kal to continue training my female competitor for her competition. The whole situation was trying at best, but it taught me an interesting lesson. Never try to train an individual…that’s what life coaches are for. Only try to manage the athlete that they are attempting to be 2 hours out of the 24 hours in a day. Otherwise, you will give yourself ulcers!
Trainee Dani (I shot this in Burswood Park on show day)
Okay, fast forward to December. I had just spent 2 months on site in QLD, and I came back to Kalgoorlie to pack my bags for my international trip that would take place at the end of January. I got sauced on Christmas Eve and had an unfortunate run-in with a Hill’s Hoist (a medieval torture device/rotating clothesline that dots Aussie backyards across the country). I wrecked my eye, but kept partying like a champ. It seems every time I drink in mass quantities, I experience something that makes me more and more Australian. The number of Aussie youths impaled by a Hill’s Hoist during summertime cricket games would be mind-boggling I’m sure. Add a pissed-up Seppo to the count now. So then I go back to Cannington on New Year’s Eve.
Fast forward again to January 25th. I fly off of site to Townsville, where I proceed to the bar to meet up with an old friend who now lives and works above the arctic circle in Canada. Booze, food, you know the deal. One of the group decides we should move the party somewhere else, like the pub. Half of the group leaves, and it is down to 5 of us (2 of which are uni vacation students who work at the mine). So we proceed to do what we do, like Jaegar bombs and “suitcases”. Let me explain the suitcase. 1 shot of Jack Daniels, 1 shot of lime juice. Mix in the mouth and hold it until the “suitcase master” tells you to swallow. It’s all about punishment. Your entire mouth goes numb, and once you do swallow it, lime and Jacks is not what you would call the ultimate in taste sensations! I decide at 4am it is time to leave, as I have a taxi coming at 4:45am to take me to the airport to board the series of 4 flights that would land me in New Orleans over the course of the next 18 hours. Shower, pack, taxi, fly, fly, fly, fly…The Big Easy, yay!
Two of the perpitrators of the pre-flight festivities
So I do this conference thingy, where I present a paper that either nobody understands, or it is so magnificently written that nobody can criticize a single word. Bourbon Street is tame the week before Mardi Gras, and just as I’m leaving N.O., people start arriving for the festivities. My next few stops are as such: Arkansas, Texas, Arkansas, Missouri, Arkansas, Tennessee, Mississippi, Arkansas, and Texas. Each stop had its highs and lows, riddled with a couple of drunken tirades (thanks to beer, beer pong, wine, and liquor). As I remember the events:
1) Being the “significant other” at a hospital….pull the plug!
2) Boozin’ it up with the chicas at a swank club in D-town
3) My first encounter with real sushi and a faucet that was an engineers’ nightmare
4) Blue Hawaii Boone’s Farm
5) Redneck B-boys
6) Curiously ignorant wife sending her husband off to copulate with another crack-head girl
7) Beer pong with youngsters (where I got my ass handed to me)
8) Tearing a tin roof off
9) Ice storm
10) Midnight run to Tunica
11) Sassy waitress in the Flying Saucer and Irish Car Bombs
12) Losing my ass in Tunica (X 5)
13) Having enough comp points to buy a meal in Tunica (high-roller, baby)
14) Italian dinner with a moderately temperamental young lady
15) Ghost Hunters International
16) Texas Frightmare Weekend with bubby (see below with Malachai from Children of the Corn)
All in all, a fully-booked trip. I may go back and fill in some of the blanks, but don’t count on it.
So then I board a plane in Dallas for London. This is my first time in Europe, and I am looking forward to getting the stamp of another continent in my passport. I land in London, take the train into the city to my hostel, and store my bags. 1 hour after I arrive, I am on a walking tour of “Old London”, starting at the Tower Bridge and ending near Westminster lane. 3 hours of information and a great way to earmark the places you would like to go back to eventually if you had more time. The guide was excellent (thank you James), and the tour was technically free, but they did accept donations. It was a great tour, so I gave him 15 quid (roughly $30). Now there is something you have to understand about London. The GBP is about 2X the USD and the Aussie dollar, but you have to think of it as a dollar. The prices are about 2X what you would expect to pay in the US or Australia. So that ₤5 coffee is actually $10, but you have to think of it as a $5 coffee. Here are some pics from London:
Buckingham Palace (The Queen was in based on 4 guards and the flag)
St James Palace (the prince's crib)
Look kids....this is actually St Stephen's Clock Tower. Big Ben is the bell in the tower.
Look kids....this is actually St Stephen's Clock Tower. Big Ben is the bell in the tower.Tower Bridge (often mistaken for London Bridge. The actual London Bridge was bought by an American and is in Arizona in a lake. London bridge was destroyed many times over the years. Tower Bridge was built a couple of decades ago.)St. Paul's Cathedral (it was the only building spared by the Germans during WWII bombing in this part of London) Church of the Knights Templar (can anyone say Divinci Code? The Templar Knights were actually bankers in the beginning!)Westminster AbbeyT-Rex in the Natural History MuseumHoney, get the broom. Them damn Velocoraptors are on top of the cabinates again!Some folks I met along the way...Bill, you got some smooth lines! No, not William Shatner!If there was ever a whirlwind tour of London, it was mine. Over the course of 2 walking tours, I got to see most of central London. The Underground system is a beauty if you have an all-day pass and can roughly read a map. The trick is finding the nearest tube station once you are out and about.
Highlights of London:
Templar Church
Westminster Abbey
Lord of the Rings (the musical)
Getting lost many times
Italian women!
VanGogh’s in the British Museum
Less that Spectacular:
Madame Tussaud’s (if you are alone)
Natural History Museum (except the dinosaurs, they were cool. And the big-ass room of rocks)
Piccadilly Circus
I have to say The Lord of the Rings musical sounds lame, but it was at the Royal Drury Theatre (the longest running theatre in London). Once you settled into the fact that it is not the movie, and that someone other than Elijah Wood can play Frodo, it was highly enjoyable. The theatre was kitted out wonderfully, the stage props were great, and the performances were spectacular. My date and I were upgraded in seats to fill the bottom tier, which put us in a grand position. During a short intermission, orcs were terrorising the audience members in grand fashion. The best prop was the Spider queen. Friggin’ brilliant. My “date” was Suzanne, and American import to Italy. She was staying at the same hostel. Good times.
So once I left London via Heathrow (which was not all that bad other than getting selected to be X-rayed), I took a short hop to Singapore and then to Perth. I slept about 8 of the 12 hours to Singapore, and got into Perth way early in the morning.
Aussie adventures the last 3 weekends will have to come in another blog, though. I’ll just let you in on a tidbit. My life looked uncommonly like that of a socialite, or an alcoholic, not sure which!
VanGogh’s in the British Museum
Less that Spectacular:
Madame Tussaud’s (if you are alone)
Natural History Museum (except the dinosaurs, they were cool. And the big-ass room of rocks)
Piccadilly Circus
I have to say The Lord of the Rings musical sounds lame, but it was at the Royal Drury Theatre (the longest running theatre in London). Once you settled into the fact that it is not the movie, and that someone other than Elijah Wood can play Frodo, it was highly enjoyable. The theatre was kitted out wonderfully, the stage props were great, and the performances were spectacular. My date and I were upgraded in seats to fill the bottom tier, which put us in a grand position. During a short intermission, orcs were terrorising the audience members in grand fashion. The best prop was the Spider queen. Friggin’ brilliant. My “date” was Suzanne, and American import to Italy. She was staying at the same hostel. Good times.
So once I left London via Heathrow (which was not all that bad other than getting selected to be X-rayed), I took a short hop to Singapore and then to Perth. I slept about 8 of the 12 hours to Singapore, and got into Perth way early in the morning.
Aussie adventures the last 3 weekends will have to come in another blog, though. I’ll just let you in on a tidbit. My life looked uncommonly like that of a socialite, or an alcoholic, not sure which!
Sunday, September 30, 2007
A few more pictures, as the main comp camera got back into town... 
Abs and thigh (shot before thigh was locked out)
Obliques
Most muscular (check out the cuts/veins...yummy!)
Side tricep
Rear double bi (before unfolding my back and striking my hands high)
Signle bicep (post comp)
Starting pose for my routine
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
A couple more
Big can
Jolly green giant (ho ho ho). Note the poor striking position of the guy in the middle. Plus their height!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
At Least It's Done!
After several failed attempts to post some video, I may need to look at another avenue for showing you kiddies exactly what it was like in the final stages of preparation. There is about 1.5 hours of video, even some backstage whilst colouring up and pumping up. But for now I will give you the results that you have been impatiently waiting for.
I was edged out of 2nd place by a few points. So, I ended up with 3rd place. The 2 guys ahead of me were shorter than me and heavier than me, and that day muscle triumphed over conditioning. I was in alot better condition that the guy that won my division, but he was pretty thick. The guy in 2nd was in better condition that the 1st guy, but his posing was pretty hopeless. I was just "wispy" in comparison, as I had about 4 inches on either of them and 12 lb less. Had I been in my condition and 81kg, I may have shaken it up a bit more. I knew, though, where I started and where I would finish. I knew I would be outgunned in size, but that's what happens when you take half the year off holidaying, fasting, and hanging out at mine sites!
It was a really good experience, though, and I don't think I made a complete ass out of myself in the process. I hit some good poses, and I know my body alot better now. I know that it takes about 1.5 hours to shave your entire body, and that you can be mildly comfortable only drinking 1 cup of water in a day! These are life lessons, people!!
There will be pictures following, but the main camera is on a holiday around the Southwest right now. Stay tuned for your main man mixing it up muscle style! Oompa, loompa, loompadee do. I have another question for you......
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Been anwhile, but here's an update...
Sorry guys and gals. I have been spending on average 40 hours a week in the gym preparing myself and my 2 trainees for upcoming contests. I know some of you would like to have seen progress pics as I went along, but there have been some sketchy weeks and some weeks of no change. It goes to show you that you can never estimate your body's response to variations in diet, cardio, supplements, etc. You try to apply logic, but sometimes your body in a dieted state does not play by the rules once you drop below 10% bodyfat. I can say with some confidence that I dieted too hard in the beginning, and based on early results I figured it would be smooth sailing as I became a physical specimen with onion-thin skin and 3% bodyfat at a whopping weight of 70 kg.....ha ha ha ha ha ha and ha!
At this point (11 days out), I hope the last ditch effort of severe carb restriction and 4 gallons of water per day will leave me in respectable shape when I step on the stage. There are dramatic appearance alterations once you stage tan, dry out, and "carb up", but if you haven't lost the flab in strategic locations, there's little water depletion can do for you.
The first 4 weeks were the most successful, and it was tine changes from thre on out. My bodyweight has stayed at a stubborn 77-78kg (170-172 lb), which is not that much of a worry as my weight class allows me 81kg max weight. I figured a ripped Fleetwood would be around 75kg, and it's a good chance I'll drop 2 kg water when I go from 4 gallons of water to 16 ounces on comp day and use some light diuretics. But, if my body stores too many carbs I will "smooth out", so it is a sensitive balance between muscle fullness and being "dry".
I promise once I get this comp over with, I will post some pics and write a full blog about my experience with comp prep. I just don't hav ethe time right now due to gym and writing a paper for a conference. Anyway, here is the flyer for the comp. The guy at the bottom is in my division, but I doubt he will be in this show as he has already qualified for the Aussie nationals which will be held October 7th (2 weeks after my show). I really feel for the guys who qualify for nationals at this show and try to maintain their peak for 2 more weeks. If only cripples and fatties show up in my division and I were to somehow walk away with the win, there's no way I would go to nationals...too much damn work. But then again maybe I would get a second wind. That's all up in the air. I just want to get it over with and start eating like regular people and maybe even have a beer now and again. A full rack of abs with serratus and obliques is great, but it comes at a cost. Until after the comp...
Well, the comp flyer wouldn't post, as it's a PDF. Here's something to keep you a little interested...
Last week - 3 weeks out. Shoulders are striated and in the right light my chest is wicked separated....bring on the stage tan!
5 weeks out...note the little patch of fat on the lower abs...that damn thing will NOT go awayWednesday, June 20, 2007
AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE, OI OI OI!
Another random picture while I'm at it. New Years in Deadwood, SD was a beaut. A female friend from Gillette (now Pierre, SD) met me in Rapid City and we travelled to Deadwood. Think Vegas, but colder and only about 1/500th the size...and fat Northern folks. Small stakes gambling and pay-as-you-play drinks. The free stuff is draft beer, but it worked to fend off the cold and get us both stinkin' lousy smashed. I think we were able to amass a great fortune of about $20 on slots to contribute to our childrens' college fund. I was trying to play the couple slant at the casinos to try and score some freebies...didn't happen. 
Continued backlog from Jan 2007 US trip.....
Singapore, Australia Day 2007. I'm the one with the penis in the middle. Pretty sure the only dong in the picture, but then again we didn't ALL get that friendly ;) Top shielas, really. Mates of my mate Paula, who lives in Sing now. These girls all came to visit Princess Puha III (Paula), and I just happened to be passing through..tee hee hee. What a coincidence!
Another random picture while I'm at it. New Years in Deadwood, SD was a beaut. A female friend from Gillette (now Pierre, SD) met me in Rapid City and we travelled to Deadwood. Think Vegas, but colder and only about 1/500th the size...and fat Northern folks. Small stakes gambling and pay-as-you-play drinks. The free stuff is draft beer, but it worked to fend off the cold and get us both stinkin' lousy smashed. I think we were able to amass a great fortune of about $20 on slots to contribute to our childrens' college fund. I was trying to play the couple slant at the casinos to try and score some freebies...didn't happen.
LAS VEGAS golfing. I thought it was supposed to be warm in Vegas all the time. The water hazard was frozen...ducks walking around on the ice and shit! It did help keep a few balls out of the drink, though. This particular course did not have enough toilets around the joint, as Hole #9 became the temporary toilet for the infant-sized bladder of sen'or Weav. The golf was abysmal, except for a few King-Kong drives from the thunder stick of Weav, and my 3" short 60' putt across an up/down/left/right green.
The water hazard on the right is actually 3" of ice against the back half. I bounced a ball across it...twice.
