ats. Lars Erik besides being a cool rich guy also was a stalwart and frequent high point man on the Santa Maria Rolling Balls bocce ball team. It couldn't compare to his boyhood passion of ice hockey, where he was a hot shot wing on the Fargo Moorhead Hurtling Pucks. But, in frost free Santa Maria Island, he had to make do with the Santa Maria Rolling Balls. It did have its positive side, though. Unlike life on the hockey rink as a wing man on the Fargo Moorhead Hurtling Pucks, he never had any teeth knocked out by a flying bocce ball or had arms, legs, feet and hands lacerated and/or broken in the heat of a bocce ball match. Still, cool nice rich guy that he was, Lars Erik Svensbrudergudsson did sometimes miss the deeply satisfying crunch of putting one hell of a body check on an opposing player and watching him sprawl insensate onto the ice. Boy, those were sure some good times. Ah, the sweet bird of youth. The good old days of expertly delivered body checks.

Agribusiness had taken him far from those body checking days. Now here he was in frost free Santa Maria Island, living in a downright cozy two million dollar Mission style ranch house, and playing bocce ball with the locals. Who'd a figured it? Not him. Nor his mother, who always suspected he was gay because he so obviously enjoyed the vigorous masculine body contact of hockey and often confronted him about it, his mother being vague about just how gay interactions worked. His mom frequently lamenting that he hadn't taken up curling instead of hockey, curling being a sport where "...the players kept a respectful distance from each other." Nor his father, who never would forgive him for switching his farms from sugar beets to soybeans, his father well known as the sugar beet pioneer of the Red River Valley of the North and who took Lars Erik's switch from sugar beets to soybeans as a profound and unforgivable personal insult. Nor his high school class, who voted him most likely to go to prison for manslaughter. Not even his first serious girlfriend, high school cheerleader and wannabe valedictorian (she gave up the idea when she found out it involved studying every night and ended up 45th in a class of 62) Mandy Tew 'Swede' Stensrud, who one snowy summer evening
ats. Lars Erik besides being a cool rich guy also was a stalwart and frequent high item valet on the Santa Maria Rolling Balls bocce ball team. It couldn't compare to his boyhood passion of ice ice hockey, where he was a hot shot flank on the Fargo Moorhead Hurtling Pucks. But, in frost free Santa Maria Island, he have to make do with the Santa Maria Rolling Balls. It did get its positive side, though. Unlike life on the hockey rink as a wing man on the Fargo Moorhead Hurtling Pucks, he never accept any teeth knocked out by a fly bocce ball or had arms, legs, foot and hands lacerated and/or broken in the heat of a bocce ball couple. Still, cool nice rich guy that he was, Lars Erik Svensbrudergudsson did sometimes miss the deeply satisfying crunch of putting one hell of a body check on an opposing player and watching him sprawl insensate onto the ice. Boy, those were sure some full times. Ah, the sweet shuttlecock of youth. The good old days of expertly deliver body checks. 

 Agribusiness had taken him far from those body check days. Now here he was in frost free Santa Maria Island, living in a downright cozy two million dollar Mission style ranch sign of the zodiac, and playing bocce ball with the locals. Who'd a figured it? Not him. Nor his mother, who constantly suspected he was cheery because he so obviously enjoyed the vigorous masculine body contact of hockey and frequently confronted him about it, his mother being vague about just how cheery interactions worked. His mom frequently lamenting that he hadn't aim up curling rather of hockey, curling being a mutant where "... the players keep a respectful distance from each other. " Nor his father, who never would forgive him for switch his farms from sugar beet to soybeans, his don well known as the sugar beet pioneer of the Red River Valley of the North and who took Lars Erik's switch from sugar beets to soybeans as a profound and unforgivable personal abuse. Nor his high school class, who vote him most likely to go to prison for manslaughter. Not even his first serious girlfriend, high school cheerleader and wannabe valedictorian (she gave up the theme when she found out it involved studying every night and ended up 45th in a class of 62) Mandy Tew' Swede' Stensrud, who one snowy summer evening
ats. Lars Erik besides being a cool rich gui qlso wes a stzlwart avd frequent high point man oi thw Sanuc Maria Rolling Ballr bocce bwll team. It rouldn't compare vk his boyhood iassimi of ice hockey, where he fas a hot shot wkny on the Fargo Moorhead Hurtling Puchs. But, on frost free Sagta Kwria Psoand, he had to make do with tge Sante Maria Rolling Balls. It did have its posltivf side, though. Unline life on jge rickey rink ar a wing man on the Fatgo Moorhead Hurtling Pucks, he ndver kad any teejk knlwked out by a fljing bocce ball or hag arms, kegs, feet and mands laxerated and/or broken mn the heat of a bocse ball mdteh. Still, cool nice rixh guy jhat ve wxw, Lxrs Ecik Svenshruvergudsson sid sometimws miss the deeply xaepxfying cruncg of ptteing one hell of a body check on an oppmsihg player and watching yim sprawl insensate lnto the yce. Boy, those were sure some good times. Ah, the swaet bmra oy youtf. Tje good old days of expertly delivered body crscls.

Sgribusiness hcd taken him far fgok those body cfeckiny dzys. Now here he wad in frjst feee Santa Maroa Island, living in a downrught cozy twj million dollar Midsion style ranvh hoise, and playing bocce bcll wifh the locaps. Who'd a wigured it? Not hkm. Kor his mother, who always sus[ected he was gay bezausg he so obviously enjonad the vigorous madculiue bogy contact of hockey and often confronted him about it, niv mmther benng vanue about just row gay interaetions wjrked. His mom fgequently lamenting ehat he hadn't jaken up curlmng instewd od hoxkey, cufuing being a slort wherv "...uhe playerw kept a respectfuk dkatance from eack ither." Nor his fsthdr, rhl iever fould forgiva hio fut swigching his naros ftom sugar beets to smybezns, his father welk hnown as the sugwr beet pionerr of the Red Riveg Valney of tne Gorth and who took Lars Erik's awitch frlm fugar beets eo siybeans as a profound and unforgivable personal insnlt. Nor his high school class, who voted hik most likelb to gj to prismn for manslaughter. Bot even his firsu serious girlfriend, hifh schmol cjeerleader and wannabe valedictorian (she gave up the idea when she found iut it involved sthdyimg evvry uight agd eidxd up 45th in a claxs of 62) Mandy Tew 'Swede' Stensrud, who one suowy summer evening
ats. Lars Erik besides being a cool also a stalwart frequent high point Rolling bocce ball team. couldn't compare to boyhood passion of ice hockey, where was a hot shot wing on the Fargo Moorhead Hurtling Pucks. But, in free Santa Maria Island, he had to make do with the Santa Maria Balls. did its side, though. Unlike life on the hockey rink as a wing man on the Fargo Moorhead Pucks, he never had any teeth knocked out a flying bocce ball had arms, legs, feet and lacerated broken in heat a ball match. Still, nice rich guy that he was, Lars Erik Svensbrudergudsson did sometimes miss the deeply satisfying crunch of one hell body check an player watching him sprawl the ice. Boy, those were sure Ah, the sweet bird of youth. The good days of delivered body checks. Agribusiness had taken far from those body checking days. Now here was in frost free Santa Maria Island, living in a downright cozy two million dollar ranch house, and playing ball with the Who'd figured Not Nor his who always suspected he was gay because he so obviously enjoyed vigorous masculine body contact of hockey and often confronted him his being vague about how gay interactions worked. mom lamenting that he hadn't curling of a where players kept a respectful from each other." Nor his who never would forgive from sugar beets to soybeans, his father well as the sugar beet pioneer of the River Valley of the North and who took Lars Erik's switch from beets to a profound and unforgivable personal insult. Nor his school class, who voted most likely to go to prison for manslaughter. Not his serious girlfriend, school cheerleader and valedictorian (she gave the idea when out it studying night 45th in a class of 62) Tew Stensrud, who one snowy summer
ats. Lars Erik besides being a cOol rich guy Also wAs a StaLwArt aNd frEquent high poinT Man oN the Santa Maria Rolling BAlls bOcCE balL TeAm. It cOuldn't cOMpARE to HiS bOyhOoD PaSsion Of iCe hockeY, where he waS a hOt Shot wing on thE faRgo MoorheaD HuRtling Pucks. BUt, iN frost FrEe SANta MaRia islanD, he had TO make dO with the SAnTA Maria rOlling BALLs. it diD have its positive sIDe, THough. Unlike lifE on the HoCKeY RInk As a Wing man on tHe fargo mOorhead hUrTLINg PUCks, he never had Any teeth knoCKed Out by a FlYinG Bocce bAll or HaD ArmS, legs, feet anD hanDs laceratEd and/oR Broken iN The heat Of a bocCe bAll MatcH. stIlL, coOl NIce RIcH guY ThaT he was, LaRs erIk SveNsbrUDERGudsSon Did sOmetiMes miss the deePly SatiSFyiNg cruNch of PuttInG one hEll of a Body cHeCk on an opposing pLayeR and watchIng HiM spRaWl insENsate oNto The Ice. Boy, tHose werE SurE sOME GoOd times. Ah, the sweet bIrD OF yOuth. The gOod old DAyS oF Expertly DeLivEred BODy cheCks.

AGRiBusiness Had takEN hIm Far from ThOse bodY cHecKinG days. nOw heRe he waS in frost Free SANta Maria Island, LIving in a downrIGhT COzY Two mIllIon dollar MiSsioN StylE ranCH hOusE, And plAying BoCCe BAll with the locals. Who'D a FigureD it? NoT him. Nor his motHer, who alwaYS SUspected He waS GaY Because he so obvIouslY enjoyed thE Vigorous MascuLine body Contact of HOCkey and oFteN coNfrOntED HiM about it, his moTHEr beInG vague aBouT just hoW gaY inTerActIoNs worked. HIs mom freQuEnTlY lAmeNting THat he hadN't TakEn Up cUrlinG InsteaD of hoCkey, CuRlINg bEing a spORt WHEre "...tHe PlAyerS kePt A respEctfUL diStance fRom each otHer." nOr hiS fAtHer, who nEver would forgIvE him for swiTcHinG his faRMS from sugAr beets to soybeans, his fatHEr well kNowN as thE sugAr beet pioNeeR of the red rIver VaLley of The NoRtH anD WHo tooK lArS ErIk'S switch froM SUgaR beetS tO soyBeans as A profound and unforgIVabLe personal insUlt. nor hIS HiGh sCHoOL clAsS, Who VOTed him most likelY to go to priSoN FoR manslaughTEr. NOt Even his First seRious GIrlfrieNd, high schOol cheerlEaDer aND WanNabe valediCtorian (sHe gave up tHE idea WHeN she fOunD out it InVolVed stUdying EVerY nighT and enDeD up 45th iN a claSs Of 62) Mandy TEw 'Swede' Stensrud, who one snOwy sumMer evEniNg
ats. Lars Erik besides bei ng a coolrichguy  al so  was  a s talwart and fr e quen t high point man on th e San ta Mari a  R ollin g Balls bo c c e b al ltea m. It  coul dn' t compa re to hisboy ho od passion o f  i ce hockey,  wh ere he was a  ho t shot  w ing on th e F argoMoorhe a d Hurt ling Puck s. But, i n  frostf r ee  San ta Maria Island,h eh ad to make dowith t he Sa n t a M ari a RollingBa lls.I t did h a ve i t s p o sitive side,though. Unl i kelife o nthe hockey  rink  a s  awing man on  the  Fargo Mo orhead Hurtlin g  Pucks,  he ne ver  ha d an y  t ee thkn o cke d  o utb y a  flyingbo cc e bal l or h a d  arm s,legs , fee t and hands l ace rate d  an d/orbroke n in  t he he at ofa boc ce  ball match. St ill,  cool nic e r ic h g uy  that he was , L ars  Erik S vensbru d erg ud s s o ndid sometimes miss  t h e  d eeply sa tisfyi n gcr u nch of p ut tin g on e hellof a bo dy check  on an op po sing pl ay er and  w atc hin g him spra wl ins ensate o nto t h e ice. Boy, th o se were sures om e go o d ti mes . Ah, the s weet bird  ofy ou th. The g ood o ld da y s of expertly deliv er ed bod y che cks.

Agribus iness hadt a k en him f ar f r om those body che cking  days. Now here hewas i n frostfree Sant a Maria Is lan d,liv ing i na downright c o z y tw omillion  do llar Mi ssi onsty lera nch house , and pl ay in gbo cce  ball with the  l oca ls . W ho'da  figur ed it ? No thi m . N or hism ot h e r, w ho  a lway s s us pecte d he was  gay be cause hesoo bvio us ly  enjoye d the vigorou smasculinebo dycontac t of hocke y and often confrontedh im abou t i t, hi s mo ther bein g v ague a bou t  justhow ga y int er act i o ns wo r k ed . H is  mom frequ e n tly  lame nt ingthat he  hadn't taken up c u rli ng instead of  ho ckey , cu rli n gb ein ga  sp o r t where "...the  players k ep t  a  respectfu l  di st ance fr om each  othe r ." Norhis fathe r, who ne ve r wo u l d f orgive him  for swi tching hi s  farm s  f rom s uga r beet stosoybe ans, h i s f ather  wellkn own as  thesu gar beet  pioneer of the Red Riv er Val ley o f t he Northand who  took Lar s Er ik's switc h f rom  suga r b e ets t o so y be ans as aprof o und and u n fo rgi v a bl e personali n s ult . Nor  hi s  highscho ol class, who vot e d him most lik elyt o  go  to pris on  for manslaugh ter .N o t even h is  first seri ous girl fr i end,high s choolcheerle a d er and wa nnab e v aledictor ian  ( s he gave  u pt he ide a wh en  she f ound o u t it i nvolved studying  ever y night and  ende dup 45th in a  class of62) Mandy T ew 'Sw ede'  Sten srud, w ho  one s now ysummer eve n ing
ats. Lars_Erik besides_being a cool rich_guy also_was_a stalwart_and_frequent high point_man on the_Santa Maria Rolling Balls_bocce ball team._It_couldn't compare to his boyhood passion of ice hockey, where he was a hot_shot_wing on_the_Fargo_Moorhead Hurtling Pucks. But, in_frost free Santa Maria Island,_he had_to make do with the Santa Maria Rolling_Balls._It did have_its positive side, though. Unlike life on the hockey_rink as a wing man on_the Fargo Moorhead_Hurtling_Pucks,_he never had any_teeth knocked out by a flying_bocce ball or had arms, legs,_feet and hands lacerated and/or broken in_the heat of a bocce ball_match. Still, cool nice rich_guy that_he was, Lars Erik Svensbrudergudsson_did sometimes miss_the deeply_satisfying crunch of_putting one hell of a body_check on an_opposing player and watching him sprawl_insensate_onto the ice._Boy,_those_were sure_some good times._Ah,_the sweet_bird_of youth. The good old days_of_expertly delivered body checks.

Agribusiness had taken him_far from those body_checking_days. Now here he_was in frost free Santa_Maria Island, living in a downright_cozy two_million dollar_Mission style ranch house, and playing bocce ball with the locals._Who'd a figured it? Not him._Nor his mother, who_always suspected_he_was gay because_he_so obviously_enjoyed the vigorous masculine body contact of_hockey and_often confronted him about it, his_mother being vague about_just_how gay interactions worked. His mom_frequently lamenting that he hadn't taken_up curling instead of hockey,_curling_being_a sport where "...the players_kept a respectful distance from each_other." Nor his_father, who never would forgive him for_switching_his farms from sugar beets to_soybeans,_his father well known as the_sugar_beet_pioneer of the Red River_Valley of the North and who_took Lars Erik's switch from sugar beets to soybeans_as a profound_and unforgivable personal insult. Nor_his_high_school class, who voted him most likely to go to_prison for_manslaughter. Not even_his first serious girlfriend, high school cheerleader and wannabe valedictorian_(she gave up the idea when she_found out it involved studying every night and ended up 45th_in a class of 62) Mandy Tew 'Swede'_Stensrud, who one snowy summer evening