After a google search, I decide I’m going to play Creekside Golf Club. Jill (my GPS) takes me there, but there is no there. Creekside opened in 1976 and by the look of things closed in 79. That night I found the following review: “NOTICE PRICE PAID LIKE ME YOU WILL BE TRESPASING THE COURSE IS CLOSED DIDNT MAKE IT, OUTA HERE, A NICE WALK STILL. WATCH OUT FOR SNAKS! LOTS OF H2O ;>)”. I wish I had read this deranged illiterate drug addict’s post beforehand, if only for the winky emoticom. Jill takes me on to Osceola Public. Osceola was a Seminole who was involved in the Indian wars in the 1830s and according to Wikipedia it is rumoured that his embalmed head periodically turns up at different locales. That is it. That is all it says. I think that the deranged junkie is a Wikipedia contributor.
I play on my own. Putrid performance- with mulligans and various other cheating – 103, 103ish. There are only about 6 people on the course. Apparently it is too hot for most according to the pro (this is after he stops laughing about me going to Creekside). I call into the 19th. The barkeep “So where are you from”? Me “Australia”. Him “Mate, I think we got that”. Apparently he lived in Noosa for 2 years, has been to Melbourne (Very cosmopolitan apparently – “Australia is where it is at Man!”) and tried unsuccessfully to emigrate. Stupidly he went through the correct channels.
• Sonny and Mitch
• Jefferson Davis
• Me and Julio down by the Hog’s Blues and BBQ
50 States of golf 
That’s what I expect Briza. A 103.
The reason no one else played with you is because word has got around the entire US about your putrid etiquette and ability.