Sports

Golf is a game many male humans start playing because they believe it will lead to a better job.

Most don’t actually enjoy the sport in the early stages (as evidenced by the cursing, throwing of clubs, uncontrollable sobbing, and drinking of alcohol in quantities usually reserved for members of various world navies and Senate subcommittees), but feel it’s a good way to get in good with the boss.

See also: butt-sucking, ass-snorkeling, crack-snacking, sphincter-spelunking.

Over time, however, the game seems to have curious addictive properties, which can infect and consume a man. Much like your tribbles. An otherwise healthy human male can be transformed into a crushing bore within a matter of months via the golf virus, rendering him all but intolerable to everyone except other golfers.

Common signs of infection include, but aren’t limited to, the seemingly non-stop talk of course conditions, clubs with loft, and the “short game.” My research has revealed that whenever a human subject is heard uttering the phrase, “How ya hitting ‘em these days?” it is prudent to get the hell out of there. Because what follows is almost guaranteed to be excruciating.

Often, victims’ wardrobes begin to change as well, as the sickness progresses. In advanced stages golfers will sometimes revert to wearing knit shirts in outlandish colors and patterns, with two or three unnecessary buttons at the neck, to all events, informal or otherwise. No other style of shirt is ever seen again.

In more tragic cases, citrus-colored slacks may appear.

Female golfers are not exactly rare, but exist in far fewer numbers. Much like their male counterparts, however, most women golfers exhibit a preference for the female vagina sex organ.

I hope this report has proven to be helpful. As always, I will be standing in the open field behind Dollar General Store, every Thursday between midnight and 2 a.m., if you should have follow-up questions.

This concludes today’s broadcast.

By the late 20th Century many human Earthlings found themselves living in an almost fully-automated world. No longer were they required to engage in physical labor, and, thanks to advanced production techniques, food was inexpensive and plentiful. There was also a plethora of entertainment options, available ‘round the clock, via the simple push of a button.

Consequently, members of the human herd grew apathetic and sluggish, and sat around watching television broadcasts while shoving unhealthy snack cakes into their mouths with the heels of their hands. This led to a population of people carrying around more weight than a skeleton is designed to support. It also triggered an outbreak of health problems, such as diabetes (known as “sugar” in the southeastern United States), high blood pressure, “mannery glands,” “sway arms,” and the common “riffle ass.”

It is estimated that a full 20% of people currently living inside industrialized nations are unable to see their own genitalia, without the use of a complicated network of mirrors. And most are so complacent they can’t be bothered with a single mirror, let alone a network. This inclination has led to hygiene issues, the introduction of long-handled “wiping wands,” and people showing up for work smelling like corndogs and semen.

Often the “abundance” begins to rear its head during childhood – due to video games, Nickelodeon, and Vanilla Coke – but sometimes genetics can hold it down until humans reach their mid-30s. And these are the people who have known a life unencumbered by the “flesh parka,” and seek to maintain it for as long as possible.

Gyms, short for gymnasiums, are large, often elaborate facilities filled with machinery designed to simulate real work. Instead of actual toil, modern-day humans pay a monthly fee to engage in fake work – inside an air-conditioned building, tricked-out with dozens of televisions, and featuring a smoothie bar. They row boats that go nowhere, ride bicycles with the wheels elevated off the floor, and take long walks on motorized machines designed to impede all forward progress.

Some are successful at staving off the abundance (or escaping it) through the use of a gym. Most humans, however, approach it with early enthusiasm, but quickly realize that even fake work inside a fancy building is not for them. So, they stick to their schedule for a month or six weeks, and suddenly become “too busy” to maintain the regimen.

However, there is still a social benefit of owning a membership to one of these halls of artificial drudgery, even if it’s no longer being used. There is a certain sophistication associated with the mere mention of “the gym.” It also absolves humans of current bad behavior, because it makes it clear that the person is, at least, trying.

Say, for instance, a man donning the parka is out for a few beers at an Applebee’s one evening, with co-workers. And every time he laughs at a joke about the woman in accounting with one wonky eye, or whatever, his mannery glands LEAP into motion underneath his enormous shirt, the size of a grill cover. He feels self-conscious about this, so he says, “Man, I really need to get back to the gym soon. This is ridiculous.” Then he folds yet another fully-loaded potato skin into his mouth, with impunity. Monthly fee: worth it!

This reporter has limited experience with the gym. He maintained the regimen for several months, which is better than average. But he saw a mustachioed man in the locker room one evening, dressed in nothing but a jockstrap, clipping his toenails. His enthusiasm plummeted, and for two weeks woke up in the middle of the night screaming in terror.

I hope this report has proven to be helpful. As always, I will be standing in the open field behind Dollar General Store, every Thursday between midnight and 2 a.m., if you should have follow-up questions.

This concludes today’s broadcast.