WHO: your sloppy drunk little putt putt self
WHAT: MASH SPUTT. I mean SPLASH SMUT. agh &%#!!? SMASH PUTT. gimme another beer.
WHEN: It's over, you missed it! Next year. Every spring, for nine weeks or so.
WHERE: Who knows! In the past it's usually been in various warehouses in SODO.
WHY: 'Cause, sometimes you need to gather your friends and drink A LOT of beerce in little plastic cups and (*hic*) maybe a few shots (you know the night is going downhill when you inquire about the well tequila selection) and swing around a putt putt golf club in a giant old warehouse with like 200 people and awesome music and this weird imaginative disneyland-meets-hipsterland golf course and WAIT DID I MENTION THAT ITS DRUNK PUTT PUTT GOLFING?! I mean, why do I even need to explain this?
HINT: I'm still (*hic*) drunk. Reserve a VIP room (how you know you're totes a putt putt baller), cram like 15 friends in, take a lot of photos of your co-worker passed out (AT PUTT PUTT GOLF, YES) and get a lil' crunk juice. Hey, it's only once a year.
I give it:
/ 10
EIGHT OUT OF TEN HAPPY BRUCE FACES
