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It was a day. The sun came up. The rain fell. On the second tee James hit a bonkers driver that bounced on the bench and never deviated its path to the concrete fountain to face me. Epic.

I called for a 32 and only missed by three. No, two. No, three. Our partners were civil, adept, and compliant - though Clapton did show a bit of dodge with that Wadkins line. I even gave him an out. I said, "Paul! Come on! Be nice! Tell me I swing like somebody pretty!"

We were old guys on a links track in August. Pluperfect targets for ___(plural noun)___. One guy did honk but he was like 30 so we just laughed.

In New York I was ready to be scared. Of people. but they were nice. People in L.A. are mean like me. Today there was a guy screaming on a bus bench. He came up to me to bum a cigarette and I said, "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" Well, I was on the phone. "C'mon, c'mon. Smoke, SMOKE!" "NO YOU CRAZY SCREAMING FUCK! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" In New York someone would have had a cigarette.

I've learned to hit the 9.5 low.

I got past the pin on 4 of the first 5 holes, but that was it.

I made a 15 footer, then 3, then 4 on consecutive holes.

This is the same track where I once went 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 on holes 2, 3, 4, 5, & 6. After that I stopped trying. I could have kept going for a while.

Both fives I made today were from the rough. That goddamned Kukuyu is tough.

I woke up on the floor today 'cause my wife is looking for somewhere else to live and I can't sleep in the bed.

The Jacuuzi is nice.

I watered the yard for two hours waking with the day.

A great day, really. But I wish I could show the whole world that knocker he clicked on two.

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