Golf Theme
by dellacroche | July 29, 2008 | In Absurd Ringtones, Cellphones, Mobile Ringtones, Music Ringtones, Ringtones, Sports Ringtones, Story & Ringtone | No Comments
I was on the 16Th hole on Saturday when I was struck by lightning. It knocked me flat on my back. When I came to, I realized I was given a gift. A gift from the golf gods themselves. I usually shot in the 
hundreds. My game sucked. I was the laughing stock of the clubhouse until this point. I never finished the game that day, but as I was leaving in the ambulance I seen the fairways and greens in a whole new light, like a path was drawn out for me. The tension of my swing at ease. I new the next day which was Sunday I had to play. The weather called for showers, but it looked like it wouldn’t hit til late afternoon. I challenged Bob McCormmick the local golf pro to a heavily wagered skins game. He accepted. I have to say I was destroying Bob the first 9 holes. I was playing out of my head. No bogeys, 4 pars and 5 birdies. The next 9 one par, 2 eagles and 6 birdies. I took him for a cool 9 hundred. It was my best game and last time I ever golfed like that again. Just kidding. I actually had a dream I golfed like that. I woke up from a hospital bed from being struck by lightning. I’m paralyzed on the right half of my body. I will never golf again.
More from Dellacroche at Ringa-Dinga
drug scandal that rocked the nation. He was indited on 4 counts, but was set free when the mounting evidence was suddenly destroyed. He played a major role in the ties between the cartel and the mafia. Relations of the criminal world between rival gangsters always went smooth when Charlie the Chestnut was involved. He had a sweet tooth for donuts and always wore blue. He was a cousin to Frankie “2 steps” Vissiano the Fast Snake. Over a thousand deals and none of them went wrong until 1996. He was the middle man involved with gun distribution, until the deal went south. Both sides opened fire violently. He was definitely in the wrong place…. the middle!
happiness, just one little bite. He pulled the trigger, but no bullet came out, safety off, gun loaded…. he had his answer. He went and filed a lawsuit against the gun shop that sold him his 6 shooter. He claimed because of the malfunction, he had to live a life of agony. Everyday waking up to the same scenario’s. Everyday seeing the same faces. This man claimed he had just cause to sue. The case went to court and he won. Now he is a millionaire that lives in Beverly Hills. He opened a school for those that don’t know what to do with their lives. They sit around and talk for hours about what they should talk about. He has a book coming out about absolutely nothing. Some say he has a best seller on his hands. I heard he is even in talks for a movie deal. I think it’s gonna be a suspense… 
thought I was doing the right thing by ending the relationship saying “lets just be friends”. Wrong! You really find out who the nutty person is when things don’t work out. OK, text messaging me a conversation about nothing important sorta gets on my nerves. Then calling me repeatedly when I don’t answer the first time. Just leave a freaking voice mail and I will call you back. Questions, always questions that lead to you wanting to know my business, every little detail as if I’m being investigated by detective no-it-all. One day I was sitting in front of my music work station. And you called me 40 times in a row. Remember that? So I came up with this ringtone. You know who you are. This one was made for you. 
I go right. My memory remembers faintly. I can’t pin my finger on it. It’s on the tip of my tongue. What was the path, the cure, the consistency. Up and down. The highs-the lows. I’m happy. I’m sad. I sleep for 12 hrs. I sleep for 2. I got a ton of cash. I have to scrounge for change. I drink until I’m sober. I laugh when I should cry. I’m in a box inside of a box. My cousin thinks I’m crazy. He tells me this from the insane asylum. I write with my left, but I’m right handed. I’m always late to my job, but early for the next day. I was born in a barn, a barn without hay. My name is John P. Seasaw.
