Something You'd Write to YM About

Remember those embarrassing stories you used to read in mags like YM and Seventeen when you were in middle school? "Oh I totally farted in front of my crush....I was mortified....I can never show my face in English again..." Well I need a new word for mortified. Dave's Dad, Dr. Bartz, was kind enough to take us out for a round of golf last Sunday at his country club in the 'burbs. Sunday was also the day after Blackout 17 and needless to say Dave and I were struggling a little bit.  But we started off the round feeling refreshed by the fresh air and we ready to get our golf on.
My first and second shots began to veer right for some reason, which was a problem I thought I had corrected 2 years ago. Hole #12 comes along and I shank my drive so I have a long second shot. Naturally I pull out my trusty 3 wood and get ready to take a shot. Well, we were playing ready golf and Dr. B was up ahead to the right looking for his ball...I think you know where this is going.
So I take my swing and hit a line drive slightly to the right and directly at Dr. B's cart.  I was so in shock by what was about to go down that I couldn't even muster up a "FORE." SMACK! My ball strikes Dr. B right in the quad.  For about 3 seconds, it felt as if time stood still.  I dropped my club looked at Dave and didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or scream for help.  Dr. B immediately took off for the halfway house to get some ice, but at the time it seemed as if he was sooo mad, he was just going to be finished for the day. When all was said and done, we had a drink afterwards and somehow got an invite back to play. Maybe next time I'll leave the deadly 2 wood in my bag...