Gold Medal
So Congress awarded the "Dalai Lama himself" a gold medal. Hmm. I'm a little disappointed, myself, because I figure that I missed the race. I mean, I'm positive I could take that guy over any distance. Unless he has the ability to teleport himself or something.
But if you beat the Dalai Lama, maybe he denies you "total consciousness":
Carl Spackler: So I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas. A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I'm a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald... striking. So, I'm on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one - big hitter, the Lama - long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. Do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga... gunga, gunga-galunga. So we finish the eighteenth and he's gonna stiff me. And I say, "Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know." And he says, "Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness." So I got that goin' for me, which is nice.
Link.
1 Comments:
I wonder if DL knows that for American men aged 25-45, his name conjures up this one single movie bit more than any other thing.
I need to revisit that movie.
"Check me if I'm wrong Sandy, but if I kill all the golfers they're going to lock me up and throw away the key."
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