Chavy’s Friday Thoughts

It’s Friday and we survived another work week (well I have until 5PM before I can say that.) I have decided to write a weekly Friday blog recapping my week, and shooting the shit with you guys. This will probably be a weekly thing to help keep the creative juices flowing, and to keep my blog game at peak average shape. So here is the first official Chavy’s Thoughts.

Monday-Tuesday are probably going to be the least interesting days to blog about, I work, I go home, I play Xbox, and fall asleep watching South Park while aggressively swiping right on Tinder. Although funny Tinder story from Tuesday night, during my aggressive swiping I stumbled upon a girl who had “casual or not casual hookups.” Was this a girl I was interested in bringing home to meet the family for dinner? AbsoFUCKINGlutely not, but my curiosity got the best of me so I messaged her. I started right away with the obvious question. “What is a casual or not casual hookup?” Let me state I was DEFINITELY not interested in hooking up with this chick. Yes I’m currently smuggling two grapefruits in my boxers now that I’m freshly single, (again sup?) but I’m not meeting for a casual hookup via Tinder to either A) catch an STD after a disappointing 30 seconds of missionary or B) lose a kidney to the black market. So back to the story about the girl named blah blah blah that swiped me. She answered  with a “you’re pretty far away from me lol.” 2 things crossed my mind at this point, she’s either a prostitute or a cop. So I keep the conversation light just asking about how she usually does these things. She told me that most guys buy underwear she’s worn, whether they were worn while making “sexy time” or God knows what, I didn’t want to find out. I broke the news to her it was a hard pass from me on buying underwear she wore as I’m not a freak (I may slow jerk to tentacle porn or 2 girls 1 cup, but I draw the line at buying a strangers used underwear.) She quickly unmatched me when she realized I wasn’t sending credit card info or Venmo and I was back to square one on Tinder.

Wednesday’s are for the golf league, there’s no better feeling on hump day than leaving work 15 minutes early to head to the links, drink beer, and suck at golf. My future brother-in-law and I signed up for an AMVETS league this year, where we are playing with an average of 25-30 year age difference/advantage. The first week of our league started off on a highly depressing note as we played a team that had a guy with early Alzheimer’s. Before we played his teammate said “treat him like one of the guys” we obliged but it just felt uncomfortable. How do I treat my friends? Usually give them shit on every hole, (all in good fun of course) and on the 3rd hole after a feeling out process I decide to give Bill some shit and after a missed putt “nice putt Bill!” I kept it simple and playful and his response was silence, a real power move on Bill’s part, whether it was intentional or not I don’t know. Needless to say I didn’t try to make jokes after that blunder. Fast forward to this week I decided after 5 weeks of being sober at the course to start drinking, alcohol can’t make my game any better but it helps me cope with my god awful slice. We played a older group who hit from the senior  tees, and I understand why they are allowed to have an advantage, but I don’t agree with it. Listen, these older golfers 9/10 usually have a phenomenal short game, why make it even easier for them to utilize that by shortening the hole? 3 times me and my partner put our dick and balls behind the swing and crushed it, only to have these seniors barely hit it off the red tees and be 10 yards behind us. Now hand up, I know we need to work on our short game it’s atrocious. These fucking guys are nailing 30 foot putts uphill while were lipping out every time. I haven’t seen so many balls hit a lip so aggressively since Chyna’s Royal Rumble (search it on PornHub NSFW obviously)  So we’re averaging high 30’s – low 40’s every Wednesday and losing pretty handily as well. I only have 2 wishes when I’m a senior playing golf 1) my short game is off the charts and 2) my dick still works. I’m going to guess it’s a 50/50 chance on if I retain one or both of those when I’m older, but if I have to choose between eagling a Par 5 or dry heaving dust out of my cock, I’m going with the eagle every time.

Thursday’s are for the beer league.


(Side note Beer League is a cult classic and actually pretty funny highly recommend.)

We are the Junkyard Dogs, and much like the JYD our team falls asleep at the wheel come the 2nd game and crash. This week was different though, fresh off a leg scrape from sliding into home plate, I was feeling it. Of course I was only feeling this newfound confidence after 5 beers before the 3rd inning but that’s besides the point. Now before I go on I need to deliver a PSA, drinking 5 beers before the 3rd inning and playing the outfield is a sure fire way to vomit. DON’T DO IT!!!!!


I cooled down on the drinking after that and decided to ride out the small buzz I had until our second game. By the way we got run ruled in our first game, and I learned that a crazy backspin can be thrown in slow pitch softball league. This guy was like Tim Wakefield, except I don’t think Wakefield was ripping cigs in between at bats and pitching? Anyways the second game rolls around and we play a team slightly better than the JYD’s, so it is a winnable game if we can string it all together. Well buddy after a huge back and fourth it was 11-9 going into the top of 7th. After a poorly timed 9-11 joke, which may have jinxed us we were down 11-12 going into the bottom of the 7th. This was our chance to write the storybook ending and etch ourselves in the history book. Miracle on ice? Cavs down 1-3? Michael ending up with Holly? Could they soon have company courtesy of the JYD’s? 1 out, guys on 1st and 2nd, C-Bock up to bat…..BOOM!!! He took it all the way to shallow center to knock in both runners and win the game with a walk off single. WE DID IT!!! The victory was short lived as the cops were patrolling the field checking for open containers and praying onto potential DUI’s like a fire truck stalking it’s pray.



Although beer would’ve been a nice celebratory beverage, I needed the electrolytes and opted for Gatorade instead. My body thanked me in the form of not giving out even after the hell I put it through the past few hours. Could this be the start of a redemption arc for the Junkyard Dog’s? Only time will tell.

So there’s the first installment of Chavy’s Thoughts.  I had something clever for the ending, but I forgot what it was. I’ll keep it simple instead, enjoy the weekend and be safe folks!

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