Sweet sweet golf.

Golf they say is addictive and I found myself practising swings in the lift just now.
Sweet because the fruits of practice gives you a crisp sounding golf swing and high flying far ball.
And you stand there with the club suspended behind and above your shoulder, staring far away, admiring how well you've done it.
But it sucks when you realised the price is quiteful physically painful the next day.

My god-ma told me to get golf equipment from my dad and I asked my mum if dad's equipment's still around. And dang, I forgot he was a left-handed golfer. Maybe I'll ask him later if he has some right-handed clubs, hopefully.

They were quite a lot of uncles at the Toa Payoh driving range today and they really hit well and admirably with ease.