To ding, or not to ding: that is the question:
Whether 'tis better in the game to suffer
The dings and slices of outrageous fortune,
Or to take deep breaths against a wgt of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To ding: to to fade a shot;
No more; and by a good shot to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shots
That flash player screws our game is why we say 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the club;
For in that shot of death we hope what dreams may come
When we have pitched ,flop our way out of trouble off this mortal deep rough or fescue
Must give us a chance wgt: there's the respect
That makes this game of so long life;
For who would bear the slices and oobs of time,
The player frowns wrong, the player screams.wtf wgt?
The pangs of despised lies, the wgt,s delay,
The insolence of of outer beings or what nots and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy shots,
When wgt himself might his quietus make
With a full iron shot? who would drop it short,
To grunt and sweat under a weary game
But that the dread of something after what was going well
The country club from whose you played
No traveller returns,the puzzle of wgt will always be played
And makes us rather bear those ills wgt have
The pars come to others that we know not why
Thus conscience does make betters players of us all;
And thus the native hue of negative resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and backspin
With this regard their current tiers turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
Be all my sins remember'd.