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A Florida golfer racked up three holes-in-one in the past six months mdash; all while swinging one-handed.According to the Nati
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stanley quencher 1. Figuring the odds of what 68-year-old Bill Hilsheimer of Nokomis accomplished could short-circuit a calculator.The aces were the first of his career. I waited 50 years to get one. Now, they seem to be coming in bunches, Hilsheimer said. The first one, I was playing with my father-in-law on his 94th birthday party, so it was really special. His most recent ace was last week at the 157-yard, par-3 13th hole at the Bird Bay Executive Golf Course in Venice. In January, he aced a 157-yard hole at the Gulf Gate course in Sarasota, and in September, he had another ace on a 105-yard hole on a course in Ohio. Not bad for a player who lost most of his right hand 59 years ago when he was run over by a train in Columbus, Ohio. Hilsheimer, who has a 15 handicap, doesn t use his right arm when he swings.Robby Robertson, the owner-manager of Bird Bay, was fertilizing the 13th tee when Hilsheimer hit his most recent ace. It s not easy to even hit the green on that hole, Robertson was quoted as telling the Sarasota Herald-Tribune. I ve never seen anything like what Bill has done.Hilsheimer retired to Florida in 1996 after working 35 years as a photo engraver for the Akron Beacon-Journal newspaper. He and his wife, Dorothy, raised six children. I never had much time Bgjq Realistic game gets you right inside Gitmo to torture prisoners
The new story by Nicola Griffith Hild gets off to a slow start 鈥?but by the end, you ;ll be swept along by the strange exhilaration. In a lesbian bar, an old, feral presence lays in wait 8230; but is Griffith main character looking for a lover, or a victim Top image: Sam Wolfe Connelly/Tor I don ;t want to give away too much of what happens in Cold Wind, but suffice to say that it not just a sto
stanley cups uk ry about picking up a woman in a bar. Or a story about the main character becoming a victim to an ancient entity that feeds on young women. Mostly, it worth savoring Griffith evocative, wild language. Here how it begins: Fr
stanley botella om the park on Puget Sound I watched the sun go down on the shortest day of the year. The air lost its lemon glitte
vaso stanley r, the dancing water dulled to a greasy heave, and the moon, not yet at its height, grew more substantial. Clouds gathered along the horizon, dirty yellow-white and gory at one end, like a broken arctic fox. Snow wasn ;t in the forecast, but I could smell it. More than snow. If all the clues I ;d put together over the years were right, it would happen tonight. I let the weather herd me from the waterfront park into the city, south then east, through the restaurant district and downtown. The streets should have been thronged with last-minute holiday shoppers but the weather had driven them toward the safety of home. By the time I reached the urban neighborhood of Ca