It’s been a minute, and I’m in the perfect spot to let ‘er rip. I’m in the parking lot of the Dallas Country Club. It’s not necessarily my chosen wake up spot.

It’s complicated how I got here, actually. I rolled down my window, screamed “wassssaaaaappp!” to the gate guards, and drove in behind a real member. I’d personally be pissed if I paid dues to this place. I mean, I’m just another random psychopath in the city of Dallas. We’re allowed here without question so far. Think I’m lying?

Im just parked here. Waiting.

How much longer can I sit here without being approached? Curious.

I’m no fan of Highland Park as a whole. I don’t care much for generationally wealthy coat-tail riders who have cooling fans on their putting greens. I haven’t played golf in 25 years, but I dont remember it being so excruciating that I needed to stand panting in front of a cooling device. Also, I played in Arizona. That’s real heat, and they have a rattlesnake drop rule printed on their score cards. Are score cards still a thing? Is there an app for that now?

I’ve always claimed that boring people drive white vehicles. This parking lot is proof. I can’t imagine waking up every morning to have breakfast with Bennie & Snookie on the veranda. I’ve heard my share of Country Club horror stories.

It’s the home of such peckers as George Bush and Jerry Jones. Once, a wealthy black family came to see if this place was worthy of their money. They left when people kept giving them their drink and food orders. Pitiful.

I’m 15 minutes into my rich poon occupation and I’ve not been approached or questioned. These guys are squeezing every ounce of “give a damn” from their just above minimum wage jobs to smile at the Trumpers as they cruise on by. Not that I’m a terrorist or a mass shooter, but this is exactly how terrorist attacks and mass shootings happen. No one cares until after the fact, then they donate prayers worth exactly $0.

Part of me wants to press my luck and spark up, but that would get into illegal territory. Not that I mind; I just prefer to do so in the comfort of home. Texas just banned all the THC gummy dispensaries so they could turn right around, medicinally legalize weed, and hold these store owners as hostages of the Texas state government. I have no proof of this yet, but it sounds like something I would do as a capitalist, conservative politician.

Someone tried to convince me that everyone around here is driving “Teslers”, but there’s not a single one in the parking lot. They’re just Nazi’s and having difficulty coming to grips with it. I know I would!

The old men, older than me, are walking around here in their shorty shorts revealing excess ball skin whenever they sit. The women? Not a smile to be seen as they sneak behind their burnt-out husband’s back to screw his best friend at the 19th hole. Disclaimer: Beware of the 19th hole. It’s about an inch away from the 20th hole. The no-no hole. Just grit your teeth and putt, ladies. It gets easier with time. At least that’s what a lifetime of Ron Jeremy movies taught me.

I’m at the 30 minute mark and nothing has changed. Im idling in my truck, trashing the zombies who pay to be here and listening to Sturgil Simpson sing “Old King Coal”.

Let’s set the mood…

I wonder what would happen if I dropped my shorts and took a dump in the middle of the buffet table. I think MAGA has deserved it since January 6th, 2021. At least choose better representatives for your cause whenever you host an insurrection. This is the heartbeat of Dallas high society, and I’ve infiltrated it like cancer.

There’s Cheeto dust on my shorts from last night’s season 7 binge of Clone Wars. Not necessarily country club attire. This reminds me of the kind of place where I’d get arrested and questioned after the fact. Money “trumps” race here in the explanations department, but I’m not going out like that. They’d have to catch me first. This must be what Bill Murray’s character felt like in Caddyshack.

Wow. My phone converted Caddyshack to Daddy’s Hack. I must be accidentally picking up texts from Doctor Dipstick’s wifi as he’s attempting to woo the help. Honkeys are alive and well in Dallas, and I may have just stumbled into their secret breeding ground. Ew.

The security guard just drove by me and waved in his golf cart.

Shit. My luck ran out. He’s coming to the window.

It’s a good thing I’m a fiction writer and can make up stuff on the spot for a living. I just gave him my best and it worked. No ID check. No further explanations. Your membership fees hard at work, Highland Park. It’s only lying if your not a professional.

I’m not doing this to make a point. I’m doing it because I can. I’ve infiltrated the upper-crust while my son takes his swimming lessons. It’s the reason I’ve done most ridiculous things in my life. Because I could. Either batten down the hatches or shut up, America. You’re weak, you’re exposed, and your end is within sight.

You’ve allowed yourself to be led to the brink of destruction by a man who’s privately referred to as Doo Doo Don by his closest of comrades. I can guarantee you there’s a dozen men inside this fake-factory exactly like him. Regardless of the number of invitations I’ve received to enjoy the perks here, I’m not big on nursing homes. How do these people gobble down chicken strips with a load in their diaper and carry on legitimate conversations?

I’d much rather imagine it all than walk inside and discover the truth.

It’s how I prefer to do things. Not every story needs a prequel or side-quest.

Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon.

The suck-urety guard is doing laps now. My early summer tan must’ve set off his Klan radar. Can you imagine the damage I could’ve done there if I’d truly gone with ill intentions rather than for humor? This is actually an expose’ rather than a rant. These are the kind of idiots who think it’s “hip” to hand out bibles on Halloween rather than candy. They’d deserve it.

Rev – 3

CC – 0

Yes, I’ve done this two other times and currently pitching a shut-out. Winning is winning in the gonzo world.