Hit golf balls for the first time in my adult life last night. Not too bad, not as easy as I wanted, but not too bad either. I'd like to do a good wholesome 9 holes, just to have the experience. I've heard that it's frustrating, batting the ball to the left, then the right, trying hard to get it in the hole. Well, I'm up for it, are you?
What's with "No worries"? I don't get it, people are always saying this to me, as if trying to project their worries onto me. I'm not fucking worried, what are you so damn worried about? We just had a worry-free interaction, so even bringing up worries makes me a little worried... about you!
The summer is toying with us here in Portland. Threatening to end, threatening to burn, and then just being straight up pleasant sometimes. This planet and its "weather".
Watched Control the other night, joy Division biopic in which the actors play their own instruments. It was okay- beautifully shot in B+W on what must have been some of the most expensive B+W film out there. Too bad the acting was a little off, especially the singing, and the story was not exactly true to what I've heard of the situation. Ian Curtis was more of a prick than they made him out to be and his mistress was not quite so nice to him. In fact it is purported that she would get disgusted with him and storm off when he would have seizures. Cold. Although, now that I think about it, I read that in the book written by Curtis's widow, so... who knows, not me.
And here's your cool visual for the day. Give this photographer a cookie!
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