spy movies, putt-putt live, and a redhead

so, last night, i got a bit of a surprise…my floridian friend sin D (known by most of you as “the redhead” if you read the comment pages) was in tejas for a wedding in sa, and had flown into austin ’cause it was cheaper. she called, we met, and cruised out to dinner last night. since i had today off, and famously make plans to do domestic stuff, but usually find something else to do, when she called today and suggested lunch in san marcos, i was all for it…

we did lunch at montana mike’s steak house (who’s steaks go up to 66 oz of sirloin) and then went off to do a spy movie double feature – austin powers iii and xxx. i have to admit, while i REALLY think referring to vin diesel as the “new james bond” is going a bit far, the movie is pretty kick ass with enough action and explosions to keep guys interested, and enough of mr. diesel not wearing much to keep the women entertained…and probably suggesting that some of us might look a bit better with a shaven head.

dinner was had a black’s bar-b-Q in lockhart for one simple reason…last night over dinner (and guess what to drink) at baby a’s, i started talking bar-b-Q and asked her if florida had decent brisket. you know what i heard in response? the most shocking thing i’ve heard come out of a girl’s mouth in a LONG time…

“what’s brisket?”

oh, honey, NO…that is a life in need of some texas exposure…and a third pound of black’s smoked to perfection brisket later, she was an educated woman (never mind that whole “i have a master’s degree” thing…THIS was education in it’s best form…mesquite smoked)

but the shit had been talked, the gauntlet thrown down…and right here before all of you readers…it is NO secret that sin D and i have been taunting and teasing each other in the realm of computer putt putt for quite some time…pretty much since the links link hit the ‘whore. we decided it was put up or shut-up time, in the real, non-mouse, try and double click your putter world. so off to peter pan we went. we mistakenly played the “east course”, even though we’d been given a “west course” score card. when it was all said and done, we were TIED…but i don’t know how many over par, because we had a score card that didn’t tell us. so we went on to play the west eighteen, and i barely squeaked out two strokes ahead…but we did leave the course with a question or two (or more)….

1. who the hell still uses the phrase “holy moly”? the indian guys a few parties ahead of us did…often…sounding much like apu from the simpson’s…

2. who the hell has their six and seven year old kids out playing putt putt at 11:30 at night?

3. speaking of, is it too much to ask that if you DO have your four youngstas with you, and most of them are of the try-and-hit-the-ball-in-but-keep-their-score-in-the-fucking-TRIPLE-digits variety and as a result we all have to sit for TWENTY FUCKING MINUTES can you tote along a couple of those fold up lawn chairs for us to lounge in while we wait for your “god-forbid-you-put-on-a-condom” ass? thanks…

4. is it possible for a putt-putt place to put that little “after 5 strokes, pick up ball – count 6 – go to next hole” rule on the card in MORE than one language? last night proved that this might be a REALLY good idea…

5. what’s more annoying than loud, cursing teenagers who are a bit too competitive? loud, DRINKING, thirtysomethings that are WAY too competitive….ah, south austin…where a budweiser-toting hispanic guy with a pirate rag on his head, a “holy moly” screaming indian family, a group of gangsta wanna-be teenagers, and a giant rotten-crotched rabbit can all live in harmony amongst thirty-six holes of astroturf…