How To Get a $40,000 Car For $500 on Craigslist

1. Go to the Free stuff section of Craigslist. Search in your area for the following items- wheels, windows, car seats, tires, steering wheel, engine, suspension, frame and body, lights and electrical system.

 

2. Assemble the various free items into a car. You may need a big hammer to bang together some of the parts that almost fit but not quite.

 

3. Go to the gas station and buy cans of oil and a few gallons of gas. Go to the DMV and get license plates. The wait in line will be longer than it took you to find all the parts.

 

4. Pour the oil in engine and the gas in the tank. Reach under the steering wheel and find two wires and touch them together to start the engine. If you cannot find the wires consult every movie in the last 50 years where the hero steals a car he needs to escape to save his family.

 

5. Drive around in your combo Chevy/Ford/Fiat/Kia/Hyundai/Pontiac/Honda/Buick/Honda/Land Rover supercar.

The Only Blues You Should Be Playing is B.B. King

You used to be able to shoot a round of golf in a few hours. Now a round of golf drags on longer than a weekend with your relatives. It takes all day to finish 18 holes. You play the first hole and then you wait. Finally, you tee off and then you wait. You go to your tee shot and wait until they are off the green. Slow play has never been worse. Let’s all learn to recognize and avoid these slow play sources:

Playing “The Blues”

Too many golfers overestimate their ability and “play the blues.” You shouldn’t play the blue tees unless you have a 10 handicap or better. The handicap of most people “playing the blues” is their swing.

Lost Balls

Don’t spend 20 minutes looking for a lost ball. These thrifty golfers organize a safari with tents and camping gear and push further and further into the underbrush. One of the adventurers cries out, “Eureka, we’ve found it, I see a Titleist at the bottom of that ravine!”

Hey, it’s just a golf ball! It’s lost- you can buy another one. Don’t worry about the ball. Some twelve year old will find it and sell it back to you from his used ball store set up between holes on the front nine. Don’t let his skateboard throw you off. This kid is the Bill Gates of used ball sales. I know one kid who made $20,000 in one summer selling used golf balls! By August he had set up a drive-thru for golf carts. It looked like a mini-McDonalds. He repeats your order into a little speaker: “Your order is 6 Top-Flites and 6 Molitor X-outs. Please pay at the first window.”

Yardage Gurus

Another person sending golf back to the ice age is the golfer that needs to know the exact yardage. “Is the pin at the front of the green or the back? What does the yardage on that drain say? Let me check my course guide- it says it is 183 yards from this eucalyptus tree.” After tearing up some grass and throwing it in the air they say, “Looks like about a half club breeze.” Again, if you are a good player, you can go for the pin. Otherwise, put it on the green and keep moving.

Putter Woes

One source of slow play are weekend Nicklauses who evaluate a put from every direction. First they stand behind the ball and plumb-bob their putter as if they are surveying new road construction. They don’t feel confident until they consult a U.S. Corps of Engineers topographic map they have spread out on a Black and Decker Workmate set up on the green. Then they take a soil sample to determine moisture content and grass variety. By this time you’ve sat in the fairway so long you are getting hungry so you build a fire and roast hot dogs.

 

Golf Course Management

I don’t find many course marshals that do anything to deter slow play. One marshal told me, “There’s really nothing we can do. Even if we let people play through it doesn’t help.” Maybe he would be more effective if he wasn’t sneaking into the trees for a shot of Jack Daniels. He isn’t helping when he yells at a foursome for having eight players on the fairway because he’s seeing double. Many golf courses don’t get it at all. I saw one course that had a sign near a water hole that said “No Fishing!” So far I haven’t had to wait because the foursome in front of me was fishing. Hey, not a bad idea- “Martha, I shot 175 again, but look at this mackerel! I hooked him with some ham on the end of a sharpened golf tee.”

Eating at the Turn

Learn to order quickly. Simple. Fast. Bing, bam, boom. Don’t ask to see the wine list. Don’t order Chicken and Shrimp in White Cream Sauce. In fact, don’t even sit down in the grill at the turn. Eat while you play. My brother can hit his driver 270 yards while drinking a Heineken.

Mr. Equipment

This guy has the latest Callaway Big-As-Half-a-Loaf-of-Rye-Bread Bertha. He had the first metal woods on the market. He had the first graphite shafts. He had the first titanium. He scours golf magazines looking for articles like, “Will the New Kryptonite Shafts Help YOUR Game?” All day he must tell you what equipment you should have, “You should get a Tight Lies. You would have hit a good shot there with a Tight Lies.” I wouldn’t have hit a good shot there with Jack Nicklaus’ clubs. I mis-hit it, graphite breath.

Come on, kids. Don’t take 8 practice swings and let’s all get home before the sprinklers pop up at dark and hose us down.

 

The Mulligan Brothers

Jimmy shanked his tee shot into the woods. He pulled a second ball out of his jeans pocket with one smooth move.

“I’m taking my mulligan!” he announced to his brothers Steve and Mookie. He placed it on the tee, reared back and blasted a worm-burner down the middle.

“You should have saved your mulligan for later on,” Mookie said, driving the his golf cart over the tee box. “You only get one mulligan per nine holes.”

“I’ll be warmed up by then,” Jimmy said. “I won’t need it.”

“Yeah, right,” Steve said. “By the time you are warmed up, we’ll be in the bar.”

We were on the brutal Ike course at Industry Hills, one of the toughest tracks in Southern California. I was teamed up with three brothers. They attended UC-Irvine together- Steve was a senior with a vague major, Jimmy studied advertising but spent more time on his mobile DJ business, and Mookie dropped in and out of school like he was checking into a hotel. Mostly he helped Jimmy by scratching records.

I learned he got the name “Mookie” from his cell mate in the Pocoima jail. He was sentenced to 30 days after inciting a brawl at a wedding. Jimmy was DJing the reception when Mookie decided it would be a good idea to put some moves on the bride. The groom and his seven groomsmen felt differently.

On the third hole, Steve tried to blast out of a sand trap. His ball hit the lip and rolled back to almost the exact same spot it used to occupy. Steve picked up the ball and tossed it near my feet on the grass.

“I’m taking my mulligan,” he said.

No one else was near us. “You can take your mulligan out of the sand?” I asked.

“Yeah, but you only get one mulligan per nine holes,” he answered.

On the seventh tee, Steve smashed a ball deep in the rough.

“Mulligan!” he said loudly, setting another Pinnacle Extreme on the tee. I looked at his brothers. They didn’t say anything- they didn’t know Steve had already used his mulligan out of the sand. Steve had apparently forgot as well.

On number eight, I waited for the foursome in front of us to get off the green while I watched Mookie size up his shot. He was behind a tree that was dead solid in the middle of his line. He kicked the ball out in the fairway.

“Taking my mully,” he said to me. I didn’t mind that they were taking mulligans everywhere. They paid their money.

But I don’t like mulligans. I try to play it where it lies. I usually don’t have to worry because most of my tee shots end up off the course itself so I have to re-tee anyway. But half the fun for me is trying to hit a heroic shot- one that is way over my skill level.

In tennis, they let you hit a second serve if you miss the first one. But tennis isn’t much of a sport. You can’t smoke cigars very well and it is hard to hold a beer and serve the ball at the same time. If I played tennis I would set up the ball machine to launch serves while I went to the snack bar.

In baseball you get several swings at the ball. The only difference is the ball is moving toward your body at over 90 miles per hour.

But in golf you just hit it and find it, hit it and find it, hit it and find it. Mulligans take the misery out of it. What fun is that?

On the ninth tee, Mookie sent his ball over the green into the flowers. He reloaded and hit the second ball on the green. Steve bounced his shot off the cart path and nearly hit the Funicular, an old-fashioned tram railway that runs up the side of the hill to the pro shop.

He set up another ball and poked it on the green. Jimmy skidded his nine iron halfway to the hole where it stopped dead. Without a word he teed up another ball and hit it near the flag.

“You guys playing tennis?” I asked. “You all hit two balls.”

Mookie squinted at me through his wrap-around sunglasses.

“Don’t worry about it, dude. We haven’t used our mulligans yet!” he said.