Scotland has hilariously decided to do an impression of Saudi Arabia, and has gone all hot.
This was not the best day for Mark Dance to select Lothianburn as a golf course for him, myself and Scott "Eyebrows-R-Us" Wilkins to play on.
It's not so much a round of golf, more a Himalayan Expedition with a few golf shots thrown in to vary things a bit. (ok, ok I know that there has been too much golf in this here Blog of late. I'll scale it down. Honest.)
I can't even establish who won. We all played utter shit, and Scott had to leave at the 16th on account of a terrible attack of Fever of the Hay variety.
Mark sprayed his drives liberally around the Pentlands area with the accuracy of a 15th Century blunderbuss.
My worst shot of the round saw a vicious slice racing into the car park at Hillend Ski Centre.
I bought an Evening News later on to check that no-one had been killed at Hillend. Phew.
Later on, I told the simple, happy people of the Edinburgh Samba School that I'd decided to go on the Spain jaunt. They all cheered and punched the air and danced with wild abandon and joy at this wonderful news.
Well, no actually they didn't do any of these things.
I'm worried now. Are they going to "wack" me in Spain for leaving it so late to swear allegiance to the Samba Gods, and commit to the trip???
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