Not too long ago, I had a bit of a lapse in inspiration for what to write. I sat around and started imaginary conversations with myself. Should I write about how I hardly have any socks and the ones I do own have holes? My inability to find socks when I need them? Why I hate wearing socks to sleep? Why do I only ever find one patterned sock and never the other? Then, like a lightning strike of brilliance, the BF wrote to me proposed a ludicrous debate. Golf v. Soccer. I accepted. There are at least a thousand reasons as to why soccer is a far, far superior sport to golf, but I’ll narrow it down to these
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