During my physical, my doctor asked me about my daily activity level,
and so I described a typical day this way: “Well, yesterday afternoon, I waded along the edge of a lake, drank eight beers, escaped from wild dogs in the heavy brush, marched up and down several rocky hills, stood in a patch of poison ivy, crawled out of quicksand, jumped away from an aggressive rattlesnake and took four “leaks” behind the big trees.”
and so I described a typical day this way: “Well, yesterday afternoon, I waded along the edge of a lake, drank eight beers, escaped from wild dogs in the heavy brush, marched up and down several rocky hills, stood in a patch of poison ivy, crawled out of quicksand, jumped away from an aggressive rattlesnake and took four “leaks” behind the big trees.”
Inspired by the story, the doctor said, “You must be one hell of an outdoorsman!”
“No,” I replied, “I’m just a shitty golfer.”
