Google Continues to Ruin My Reminiscing

I played high school golf for 5 years and junior tournaments for at least 7.  So while Googling my swim records I typed in "Jon Swanburg Golf" with every intention of pleasuring myself to the results.  Disappointment quickly ensued.

• State Championship 2001: 90 - 79
• State Championship 2002: 85 - 78
• Long Island Championship 2002: Score not mentioned in the article but I wore terrible pants. (pictured here)
• AJGA event at Hagerstown: 85-89
• AJGA event in Hartford: 88.
• Random 9 hole match: 36 . . . which was cool until it says it was a par 33.

How did I qualify for theses events?  Was I ever competitive? Did I own any nice pants?  My descendents will never know. 

The Last Vestiges of a Better Time

Over dinner I was telling someone that I was a great 8-and-under swimmer and had all sorts of records to prove it.  Apparently all sorts is now just two thanks to a young go-hard named Tristan Morlock.

Such is life.  All great things done while wearing a child-size banana hammock must come to an end.

Drunk Touristing

Back in my law school days I would read about the 5th Circuit and think, “that’s an important place that decides important things. Maybe I‘ll be there one day.”

Turns out dreams do come true.  According to my phone, around 11PM on the night of our fantasy football draft I took this picture of Wallace, Zach, and my knee while lying on the sidewalk outside one of the most distinguished buildings in the country.  They wouldn't let us inside.     

Fighting Cancer With Golf & Hangovers

Yesterday was the Mike Rover Benefit Tournament.  Phil, Wallace, Ivy, and I teed off at 8AM with hopes of being competitive.  Then we started drinking.  Beers weren’t bringing us birdies so we took some tequila shots.  The balls kept flying towards the woods so we switched to Jack Daniels.  A mere three under through 11 the group behind us offered up their bottle of Jameson.  We cannonballed it. 

By hole 12 one of my playing partners lost the ability to speak.  On hole 15 he fell out of a parked golf cart and cut his chin on the path.  On hole 17 he whiffed a 6 foot putt.  Literally lined it up, took a practice stroke, addressed the shot, and missed the ball entirely.

By the 18th it had become clear that we’d overshot that inebriated / athletic sweet spot we were looking for.  We finished 5 under and 8 shots off the lead.

Moving Picture Show

There is a lot to love about Rudi Lechner's.

Talking wieners and amorous sausage plates just happen to be the two best suited for Cinemagram. 

I Interacted With My Creation

Yesterday I felt the baby kick.  It wasn’t a much of a kick and it wasn’t something I expect anyone else to care about but it was amazing in that, "it's actually in there" sort of way.  

Baby Scarlett - Living the Dream

Hold on.  I'll smile when I'm done shitting in the pool.

Since this is a family blog and my wife likes pictures of babies, here is Scarlett Marie Payne.  Above she is entering the water for the first time flanked by her grandfather and aunt. Below she is at a professional photo shoot getting groped like a hand puppet.  The pictures are fuzzy and low-res as illegal screen grabs tend to be.  

Jingle those keys, monkey boy. 

I think I see Jesus.

And just like that young Scarlett has a place on the internet.  Just one click away from her grandfather's Wikipedia page and a short scroll from a post about mustache wax.

The Mustache Lifestyle

The other day a friend sent out the message:

"You are not a man unless you own this product."

While probably true, the reply from one of the fellow recipients was beautiful, perfect, and deserving of its own blog post.  So here it is:

I enjoy the user comments:

"This works well for me. I use it for my mustache and it usually needs to be applied twice a day depending on my activity. It does what I want and is easy to use."

 I am interested in what sort of "activity" this gent and his mustache are participating in. I will assume his calendar of daily activities reads as follows on a usual two application day:

• Wake up
• Pleasure my wife's extremely hairy vagina
• Apply talcum powder to balls and Clubman to mustache
• Don wool pinstripe double breasted suit
• Ride bike with one ridiculously large wheel in front and a small wheel in back to the office
• Do deals at office
• Gym at lunch where I have a quick workout consisting of a two round bout with a kangaroo in the boxing ring and a five minute heave ho with the medicine ball
• Reapply talcum powder to balls and Clubman to mustache
• Do deals at office
• Four glasses of cutty sark when get home from office
• Please wife's extremely hairy vagina
• Go to bed

If anyone from the email chain wants credit feel free to let me know. I'm more than happy to give credit where credit is due.  Especially since copying your work is easier than creating my own.

Probably a Boy

Today our baby doctor looked at the above image and gave that little nub an 85% chance of being a penis.  More accurate and vivid sex organ pictures to come in the weeks and months to follow but for now we are more than happy to assume our trained prognosticator knows a blurry dong when she sees one.

2012 Fantasy Football Draft

This weekend I was in the lawless city of New Orleans for our league’s annual draft party.

Three league members have a pregnant wife, two already own a child, all eleven besides me are practicing attorneys, and at least one plans on running for political office.  It’s therefore with tremendous discretion that I simply say it was a gentlemanly time, include an artful image in lieu of a cellphone pic, and return to writing about cats.