Dudes on Golf Stories That Should Not Be Told

By H.A. Biggballz

Are you a golfer? Or a risk taker? Or even somebody that desperately needs to get away and dreams of a new adventure? H.A. and friends are just like you and me. Go to work, take care of family, mow the lawn, do the chores, make sure the toilet seat is down, blah! blah! blah!

Except!!! One magical weekend a year all the stars align. Join H.A., Flush, Jackhammer and Goose as they journey to one of the world's greatest golf meccas and let it all hang loose. Freedom!!! No rules, no boundaries, no chores and no worries. Things get crazy the minute they enter the airport and meet Agent Sweet Mama and only get worse from there as they try their luck on beer cart hotties, play outrageous pranks on one another, challenge bloody hippos and find out why no balls are big enough for Bert.

So join them, if you dare, and there is no doubt at the end of this book you will never be the same!!!

• Language: English
• Publisher: H.A. Biggballz
• Release date: May 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781513612362

Book preview

DUDES ON GOLF

STORIES THAT SHOULD NOT BE TOLD

BY

H.A. Biggballz

Publisher: Shadow Dreamworks LLC

Copyrighted Material 2016

All Rights Reserved

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The characters in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This includes the blatantly fictitious testimonial(s) on the cover of which were solely intended to stoke the need of the author for immediate affection, comfort and gratification. If this offends you then please stop now. The author has included a free sample of the adventure in ebook format. Please read the sample and if you are still offended then don’t buy the book. Or better yet, purchase the book for a friend you would really like to see suffer. That will show them.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

*This book is available in print at most online retailers*

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Foreword

Dudes on Golf…What?

So…I was at a kid’s soccer game the other day and a father of one of the little girl’s playing in a match unconsciously started swinging and air golfing on the sidelines. I immediately strolled over to him as he was speaking my language and within minutes a perfect stranger became a friend of mine. Our discussion on golf only lasted a few minutes as his irritated wife who didn’t appreciate his lack of devotion to his daughter drew him back to the soccer match. We weren’t friends long but the few minutes of golf created a special bond that will not soon be broken, irritated wife or otherwise.

Do you ever wish you could take off and just go golf? Leave whatever you are doing, say screw it, call your buddies and live the magical dream of a tour golfer? Play when you want, where you want and with whom you want? Anytime of the day…or even night? Leave all responsibilities at the door and just live?

I have a secret. I am not a tour golfer but I do live the dream. I play when I want, where I want and with whom I want. I am your every day hack just like you but I have figured out a way to beat the system. It wasn’t easy. I am not going to lie to you. But it can happen…you can have your golf and eat it too.

Stick with me and I am going to teach you the way of the force my friend.

First step, read this book. Why? Because it is your escape…your air golf…your chance to live a secret life filled with wild women, drunken escapades and most importantly great golf with great friends. You see…I am going to take you on an adventure. You are going to join my three crazy friends and me on our latest golf quest that involves no real rules, no limits and all responsibility for good behavior is left at the door. See how the other half lives!!!

While you laugh, cry or even pray during our golf adventure you will be filled with the secrets to create your own magical golf destiny. So be thirsty my friend and LIVE THE DREAM!!!

H.A. BIGGBALLZ

[e-mail]

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Table of Contents

Foreword

Chapter 1 Agent Sweet Mama

Chapter 2 The Levitation of Ms. Prune

Chapter 3 Beware the Dragon Flask

Chapter 4 Beer Cart Hotties

Chapter 5 The Hammer, the Ass and a Bloody Hippo

Chapter 6 Psychos don’t eat Big Macs

Chapter 7 The Pants Assbackwards Challenge

Chapter 8 Fat Women on Ferris Wheels

Chapter 9 Poker Night and the Joy of Dirty Blondes

Chapter 10 Revenge of the Superman Fudgsicle

Chapter 11 Tournament Sunday

Post

Are you kidding me?

Games we play

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CHAPTER 1

Agent Sweet Mama

So, I am sitting in the airport waiting for the man of the moment to arrive and he is late. No surprise there. You have to understand, there is a lot at stake for the winner and the losers of our annual golf trip competition. For example, each year the winner gets to pick the annual TSA Travel award for the next year and one lucky loser is the recipient of this award.

The award goes like this; the winner of the tournament picks the object of his choice and places the award in one of three matching boxes. Each loser picks one of the unmarked matching boxes. The loser who picks the box with the object has to either carry that object through TSA on his person or attempt to carry the object through security on the next golf trip.

Well, as tremendous skill, perseverance, temperament and all around wonderfulness would have it, I won last year’s tournament and after much consternation I chose a very special object to be worn this year. Normally, I would have no idea who picked the unlucky box but since I am sitting here with Jackhammer and Goose who look like two kids anxiously waiting for their Christmas present I have to assume Flush is our lucky winner.

C’mon Biggy, let us in on it. Give us a clue for Christ’s sake, said Jackhammer in his usual gruff manner. Yeah, you son-of-a-bitch, the anticipation is killing me, said Goose. I replied, I’m not telling you guys crap and you know it. But I will give you a clue, listen to the following sounds…bbbzzzzz, bbbzzzzz, hop, hop!!

What the hell does that mean? cried Jackhammer. That’s it boys, I replied.

Just then Flush came walking through the door shifting uncomfortably side to side. He spotted me, changed directions and cantered directly at me like a broken down mule. Once he arrived front and center in front of my face he sneered, I’m going to get you for this Biggballz. One way or another, you are going to get it!

I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing and the uncontrollable giggles of anticipation began. Jackhammer and Goose looked at both of us and they also became uncontrollably giddy in anticipation. Game on.

We grabbed our carry on bags and began walking towards the TSA checkpoint and we all watched as a cold sweat began to form on Flush’s brow. Just as we approached the ropes I took a good look at Flush and realized it was necessary to bring in the finishing touch.

Hey, uh Flush…have you secured our object properly on your person? I asked. Flush looked at me with a look that alternated between a look begging for mercy and a look of pure hate and hesitantly replied, uh, what do you mean?

Oh, you know what I mean, sweetie I drawled. C’mon Biggy, please! He begged. I gave him one more, long look of determination. He shrugged in defeat and retreated to the nearest men’s bathroom to prep for entry.

Oh my god, this is going to be good, isn’t it? Goose asked.

We waited for what seemed like an eternity and finally Flush emerged from the bathroom with a sheepish look on his face and covering his mid-section with his carry on bag. Interestingly, neither Goose nor Jackhammer picked up on this clue.

We again approached the TSA security station with Flush in front position and as we went through the line we checked out the TSA operators. There were two stations open. The key officers on the left were being run by two white men, one approximately 26 years old who was seated at the monitor and the second a very boring looking mid-50’s dude with thick grandpa glasses. He was the catcher who checked you out once you passed the scanning devices. On the right, seated at the monitor was another white officer approximately the same age and in the other catcher position was a healthy sized black woman approximately 28-30 yrs. old. BINGO!!!

I looked at Goose and Jackhammer, they looked at me and we knew the plan instantly. There was no way we could let Flush get in the left lane. Unfortunately, as we approached the ID checker we realized he was the overzealous type and was directing people to go right or left, leaving choice out of the equation.

As we got closer I could see Flush doing the numbers in his head and realize he would be going to the left. I also noticed a little tension disappear from his face. Not good. This would be a good time for somebody to step up and run a block formation.

Jackhammer was behind Flush and I could see he had the same idea. Our opening came a moment later. Flush put down his carry on bag to retrieve his credentials and Jackhammer immediately seized the opportunity quietly pulling the bag behind him.

It could not have been timed better. The person before Flush went right, the TSA screener called next, Flush reached down to grab his bag and swiped air. He looked down to his left and while he stepped back to grab his bag Jackhammer slid right and moved in front of him. A classic move on Jackhammer’s part, albeit sacrificing his front row seat, with a view. Flush turned around and to his horror realized he lost his position. Cha-ching, sweat back on.

Flush passed the screening and agonizingly walked to the right lane, slowly putting his carry on bag on the belt and removing his belt and shoes. Now, it could only get better one way. Does he go standard through the x-ray or does he have to enter the chamber for a full body scan? C’mon baby.

Let me see, you are a TSA profiler and you see a guy cautiously approaching the screening machine while sweating profusely. Hmmmm, where would you send him? YESSIRRR.

He entered the chamber keeping his hands down in front of his pants. The black, healthy sized female agent noticed this and ordered him to raise his hands above his head for the scan. Flush looked at her and quite convincingly stated, I would love to but I have a severe shoulder injury that prevents me from lifting my arms. Is there another way I can help you with your job, Ma’am? As usual, Flush being Flush. You have a shoulder injury, huh? Well, that’s a shame. The only problem with your story is you have two shoulders and two arms. So one bad shoulder prevents you from lifting both arms? she asked. Well, I… he started. GET YOUR HANDS UP NOW, MISTER! she demanded.

Unfortunately for Flush and quite fortunate for us, she had now attracted the attention of half the airport. Flush slowly lifted his arms up and Agent Sweet Mama was immediately drawn to his torso where Flush’s average sized white man’s boner stuck toothpick strong full mast.

What the… she started before Flush now interrupted her and stated meekly, I..uh…have a med…a medical condition. I am sure you do, now don’t move shorty, she retorted.

Flush completed the scan, stepped out and clearly was in prayer mode as he watched Agent Sweet Mama wait for clearance from the scan via radio.

I guess God took the day off because a moment later Agent Sweet Mama gasped while blurting out, he’s got something strapped to his what?

Now by this time, the airport world had stopped. Not only were we standing there watching the action but also so was everyone else within a 3-mile radius. Out of nowhere two more burly TSA agents showed up and each grabbed a side of Flush, clearly further damaging his bad shoulder.

Agent Sweet Mama didn’t waste any time mincing words, as there was some concern (which I honestly didn’t even consider) Flush was wearing, or carrying some type of weapon, watchu have strapped on your penis? She demanded. Flush whispered to her, b..z b…y. She couldn’t hear his response so even louder she demanded again, I SAID WHAT DO YOU HAVE STRAPPED TO YOUR PENIS. SPEAK UP NOW!!!

This time everybody could hear Flush as fear took over his shame and he declared, I said I am wearing a Buzz Bunny Ring! A BUZZ BUNNY WHAT? She retorted.

He leaned in close to her and said, you… know, a penis… ring that has a vibrator attached to it, a Buzz…uh… Bunny.

She angrily replied, are you telling me…you knew you were going to the airport…you knew you were getting on a plane. You knew you would have to go through a TSA checkpoint. And you thought it would be a good idea to wear a PENIS RING WITH A VIBRATOR while going through our screening?

She gave him a cold dark stare only a woman finely refined in the ways of male degradation could illustrate and continued, are you a funny man or what? Is that it? Well, you ain’t so funny, shorty. I’m going to show you what’s funny, that’s for damn sure.

She gave him that Uh-huh and all that look and finished, now, you are going with my funny guys and they gonna check your funny self out…and I mean they gonna check it ALL OUT. Bye Bye funny man.

And he was gone. I will have to say this… I completely disagree with Agent Sweet Mama. I think he is very funny.

Fifteen minutes before the flight Flush showed up, head hanging down as he adjusted his underwear before he sat down. He took one look at me and said, you are a cruel, cruel man Biggy! Amidst the laughter we heard the last call for boarding…and so the journey begins.

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CHAPTER 2

The Levitation of Ms. Prune

TIP #1

Alright, so a couple rules for the plane. First, if you are going to drink a lot on the plane then get seats closer to the bathroom. Under new FAA regulations you are not allowed to mill around the bathroom. This causes some problems for the frequent urinators out there who drink one and piss two every ten minutes. By staying close, you can jump the line at any moment. Also, history would tell us your best chances of survival in a plane crash are found in the rear of the plane (just one of many free tips coming your way).

However, never get a seat within the gas zone. This is the first couple of rows closest to the bathrooms. It only takes one to ruin an entire flight…you know what I mean.

Trust me, follow these two tips and it will pay off.

I guess I should give you a little background on my fellow idiots and I. Obviously… I am going to have to mix truth with bullshit here to protect the innocent. Please don’t try to figure out what is true and what is not. Let’s just assume this whole story is hogwash. That will make it easier for everybody.

Well, you have already seen Flush in action…not very Flush-like. More like a stuttering moron in my opinion. Flush is in the franchise business. He is one of those guys who is always working but doesn’t really seem like he is ever working. You know what I mean. It always seems like he is having a good time and nothing ever really bothers him (making the TSA incident all the better). I will usually stop by one of his businesses a couple times a year or we will meet occasionally at the casino. Other than that I don’t see him very often. Flush is about my age (late 20’s-30’s). No, I am not giving you our real ages. Stupid is as stupid does.

Goose is…hold on, Goose is bugging me. What? What are you doin? Goose asks. I’m working on something. What are you doin? I ask. I am looking at you talking into your phone, that’s what I’m doin. What are you doin? He asks again. I’ve decided I am going to write a little something about our trip, that’s what I’m doin, I said. Are you friggin nuts, are you outta your friggin mind. Relax, I’m just going to do a little golf story about our trip, I replied. Goose took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before continuing, look Biggballz. I know you are a writer. I get it. You write some great shit. But dude, our trips are sacred. We have never talked to anyone about our golf trips and now you are going to write about it? No offense, but have you lost your mind? He inquired. I laughed… I admit a little nervously, I get his point.

Goose, trust me on this one. I… Hold on Biggy, hey Jackhammer, called out Goose. Yeah, responded Jackhammer. Are you aware of this? This moron is going to write about our golf trip. What do you think about that? Goose asked. Jackhammer responded, ate too many pea knuckle sandwiches, goddam pea brain.

As you will get to know, Jackhammer is never one to mince words. He is pretty much the king of one-liners. Jackhammer is the elder statesmen of our group. He is in the 50-70 yr. age group. You would never know it though looking at him. He is in the construction business and has forearms the size of Popeye’s (for you younger folk, Popeye was a sailor man and when he ate spinach he gained super strength. Popeye was cool back in the day).

Flush turns in his seat and looks at me, "wait a minute. When you say you are writing some bullshit on our golf trip, does