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Hey Bartender I'll Have Some Milk With That Lime

My short game fucking blows and I unfortunately don't have the square footage or requisite patience to get better during quarantine. Sucks because every time I come up for air on IG there's new dogs doing old tricks with a lob wedge for all the retweets and relevance. Look at all the engagement I'm missing out on

Maybe "jealous" isn't the right word, but it's obvious I need some work with my instagram following and I feel like my little bitch tits are holding me back. So is my inability to shape a 7 iron, roll putts from 6 feet and get off the tee box. Really when you think about it my entire game just completely fucking sucks which is exactly what happens when you let the sales guy talk you into blades because your ego is too big to take the reasonably priced and equally forgiving cavity backed irons. 6 summers later and I still hate myself for being such an overwhelming toolshed. In what fucking lifetime am I ever commanding a draw? Answer: never. 

But that won't stop me from practicing. I'm resilient when it comes to honing any craft especially with such textbook instructional videos at my fingertips. Try not to get all horned up for me one time.