I had a broken camera. No really, honestly I had a broken camera. But, the situation has been rectified through purchasing another one. Hopefully, I won't lose touch with my blog friends any time soon. By the way, thanks to those who invited me to their flickr fraternities. The invitations make it sound like I'm going to some exculusive party or a dance or something. For just a moment in my mundane, everyday existence, I felt special. Below are more pics of, yep you guessed it, DISC GOLF!! NO COMMERCIALS, NO MERCY!!!! (watch Anchorman if that didn't make any sense)

One of the coolest sunsets I've seen in a while. This one taken from the backdoor @ Kachina. By the way, Nathan Price (aka. da bone, or international man of mystery), there's been some rather interesting changes that have taken place there concerning myself, and a certain girl named Stephanie Powers. Details upon request.

We call this the "thicket hole." It can't be more than 200 ft. but as you can see, there's no evident fairway, and just beyond the trees, there's a field of prickley little bushes. If you're lucky, your disc can navigate around all the negativity. But, more often than not, you clock a tree, or your disc lands right in the middle of the thuckin fickets.

This is Nate on the stump hole @ Mund's. Tripped me out when I first looked at this photo. The orb above his head looks like a disc, which would not amount to a decent drive. Alas, after thorough investigation his disc is traveling safely down the fairway. Whew!!!

Last hole @ Mund's = last call for alcohol. There's a flagged tree down there somewhere!

Sunsets have to be the most photographed phenomenon ever, but they never get old.

Yet another wonderful day of disc golf in God's country. (sorry if that offends any Utards since you guys have officially labeled your territory God's country as well)

Recently, I was in Gopher Sounds, just browsing around and found an old Ministry CD that I frequented often in high school. After listening to it, I realized my parents were right. They are evil and influential, consequently making them one of the best ever in my opinion. Revisit them if you can.

Kurt Warner is old and ugly. But, there's a handsome and new buzz in the air, as there is every damn year, and although the Cards always seem to find some way to break my already sensitive and insecure heart, I still believe this year will be different. If there is a God up there, and if he even gives a shit about competitive sports (which would be against His teachings, right?) the Arizona Cardinals will have a season that can begin my road to recovery. A recovery due to many miserable years of quietly chearing every week for them, while listening to everyone around me exclaiming how terrible and stupid they are, and anyone chearing for them is an idiot. Please, Kurt. I'm on your side; always was. I'm begging you to make sure that all those painful, regretable years are not all in vain, and those of us consistently loyal fans (all 10 of us in the state) have something to be proud of and can rid ourselves of the memory of chearing for a helpless losing team.

Last Tuesday, we girded up our loins, ate some Wheaties and tackled the Snowbowl course. Lot's of uphill holes, in fact at one point you play 4 holes in a role going upslope. When you're finished you are finished, if you know what I mean. There's a cool patio bar at the Agassiz lodge right where you finish, and the PBR goes down smooth after your little jaunt up and down the mountain. I have a bunch of cool pics, but our good friend Blogger.com is having trouble uploading them. I'll try again later, but here are some pics I was able to load.

This walk is filled with overwhelming anxiety and anticipation to see who's the closest to the pin. Unfortunately, for them, yours truly had his driver dialed in. I don't mean to blow my own horn, but, toot-toot!

Terrible photography. I thought I had a good beat on Randy's disc. I guess if you look around a bit, you might find it. Too bad, it was a sick drive on a 982 ft. hole with a wide open fairway.

As you can see, we kinda had to hustle up a little. Luckily, this was the 17th hole. Yes, Pat is that cheesey.

Frisbee golf Snowbowl style. Yes, they really are that cheesey.

The Vaca prepares himself for liftoff. One funny note, when he has a toss that he doesn't approve of, he calls himself a vaginasaur. I find that hilarious. Judging by the dumb smiles on our faces, the beer has effectively kicked in.

Avast, ye maties, tis high time for another drunken round! Of disc golf that is. The monsoons have hit in full force, leaving the northern AZ terrain a very lush, green, peacuful kind of beauty that makes you want to mindlessly trudge through it, throwing plastic discs in all directions while swashing cheap beer down your throat that has been shaken up in your bag from hiking! For those of you that have witnessed this first hand, you know that I speak of the heralded frisbee-golf experience which will fully captivate you and your soul if you so desire. A bit over-dramatic? Possibly. Any truth to my blaring opinion of "God's Past-time?" You bet yer scurvy bottom, mate! So bring yer rum, women, and all the game yer squandering ass can conjure up and lets make a day of it laddie! For yer playing a man's game now! Editor's note: isn't it amazing how an overdose of caffeine can be completely evident in one's writing? TAKE A VASE OF ACTION, MATIE!!

Miss ya, Jess.

My "sister" Jessica in New Zealand. Sutherland Falls is the name of this place, I believe. Sounds like she's having a blast down there.

Not my logo, but it sure does add a little credibility to my ensemble.