There are sleaves for putters.
That’s why I intentionally do bad things. It takes the guessing out of the equation.
People falling.
Sea level is rising in steerage.
Whip them spuds until they start producing!
Houston-YOU have a problem!
I like it when somebody else makes my sandwich.
Kinda Strangelovey.
Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will conflagrate all soldiers.
There are sleaves for putters.