Cajun Cultin'

Bayou Buggering
I've always been fascinated with devil worship movies such as Race With the Devil, The Brotherhood of Satan and The Devil's Rain, so enjoy a little piece of the real thing!

note: I do not condone ritualistic practices nor would I be inclined to particpate in said event or bugger a dog.

The Frisbie Pie Company

From meager beginnings as a pie tin to a monster sized recreational business-indeed, the frisbee last year outsold baseballs, footballs and basketballs....combined- the flying disc has now occupied most of my free time.

I've been throwing the traditional Wham-o Frisbee since I was a tiny fella and could do the basic maneuvers: behind the back catch, behind the back throw, under the leg catch. I even had a Boston Terrier that could get some extreme vertical leap to catch a disc.

Fast forward in life and about the only exercise I got (and I do mean only) while I was getting large with the ex-wife was frisbee chuckin'. I'm a born retriever. I could run, catch and throw a frisbee all day long and be content. The frisbee I most used was a 200 gram Ultimate.

Then one day around 1997 I'm browsing around Dick's Sporting Goods and see this wee-man of a disc. It had the vestige of a cheetah on it and also "long range driver" emblazened on the top. Picking it up I realized this flat circular plate was not for catching. With the 172 gram weight, no flexibility and a small leading edge, you'd be sure to lose a couple of fingers trying to haul this thing in nekkid handed. I inquired about this strange platter with Acinonyx jubatus stamped on its top side.

"It's disc golf, dude. It's like golf....With a disc."

"Oh kind and wise Dick's worker, where does one partake in the sport of disc golf?"

"Dude, there is a course not 3 miles from here.."

With that I purchased a long range driver, the cheetah, a fairway driver, the shark, and a putter/approach disc.

The new toys sat in my closet for the next eight years. Without that albatross of a wife around my neck I dusted off the cheetah, the shark and the putter and asked a friend at work to finally go disc golfing.

I've pretty much been on the course ever since. I've picked up some thorns, poison ivy, a distinct Canadian Goose stench on my shoes, and I've also picked up my game a bit. I started off shooting an 85 and have whittled that down to a 57 on one particular course. I have copious amounts of practicing to do before I can get better, but playing is the proverbial "hoot."

Anyways, that's what I'm doing to get me out of the apartment these days. I'm not out today because I'm getting old and creaky and my body needs a brief respite before I get back out there and hyzer a few throws, do my share of spotting and dropping a 40 foot putt for birdie. OK, the latter is a rare feat, but a goober can dream, can't he?