Bobby and I went to a frisbee golf course near my place on Saturday. The location was scenic and gorgeous, the weather was glorious and all was lovely. Except my throwing a frisbee. There's one little problem with it: I can't throw one. Okay, I can throw a frisbee...kind of...it just ends up only going about twenty feet, in the WRONG direction. See, I look like I can throw a frisbee:
Now, Bobby on the other hand, can throw a frisbee quite well. His sailed through the air beautifully. Although, I think he looked a little silly.
He kept telling me, "Snap your wrist! It's all in the butt! Use your hips!" I think he just wanted to see me waggle my derriere in front of him.
And by the time we were leaving the moon was fat and lazy in the sky and absolutely beautiful.