Grab your put­ters and your patience, because May 9th is Nation­al Minia­ture Golf Day!


Yay!” — Said no one ever.

Most peo­ple know minia­ture golf as that thing you’re oblig­at­ed to do on fam­i­ly vaca­tions because it’ll be “fun”, and not as the twist­ed, Saw–type recre­ation that mer­ci­less­ly push­es both your  phys­i­cal and psy­cho­log­i­cal bound­aries to a their break­ing point. Or may­be you know it as that place you take a date to you because it’s cheap, and you’ve both con­vinced your­selves it’s “fun”, but real­ly it’s just your sub­con­scious tak­ing action to end the rela­tion­ship you’re clear­ly unhap­py in, because hap­py peo­ple don’t golf.


Why? Why, God, why?!”

The good news, is that when minia­ture golf was invent­ed, the cre­ators stim­u­lat­ed a clause which stat­ed that dinosaurs must be heav­i­ly involved in the mini golf world, and so for bet­ter or worse, we at least have that going for us.




Noth­ing says golf like a dinosaur!”

Themed golf can be, enjoy­able. I guess. Or at least as enjoy­able as a luke­warm glass of water in the sti­fling fires of hell. But, some­times even that can go askew. How, you ask? Well, like when you decide to include Hitler in your fam­i­ly ori­ent­ed course.


Just go ahead and try to jus­ti­fy this one. 

 Some mini course design­ers went in the oppo­site direc­tion, thank God (pun intend­ed), and chose not hitler as the per­fect sym­bol for put-put, but Jesus him­self.


I’d rather be cru­ci­fied than play mini-golf” — Matthew 7:12

So if you feel like get­ting tetanus from rust­ed put­ters, or catch­ing some ungod­ly dis­ease from stag­nant water, or rabies from the nest of squir­rels who have made hole #6 their new home, or test­ing the lim­its of your mind, head on out to your local mini-golf course on May 9th! And if your incred­i­bly lucky (or a poor, unlucky bas­tard), you’ll nail the famous 18th hole, and win a free game, because there’s noth­ing like being thrown back into the cesspool of tor­ment and woe after claw­ing your way out through 18 holes from hell! And remem­ber, it’s all in the hips!

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So, what do you think?