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Right
side of the grass
A
foursome of senior golfers hit the course with waning enthusiasm
for the sport. "These hills are getting steeper as the years
go by," one complained.
"These fairways seem to be getting longer too," said one
of the others.
"The sand traps seem to be bigger than I remember them too,"
said the third senior.
After hearing enough from his Senior buddies, the oldest, and the
wisest of the four of them at 87 years old, piped up and said, "Just
be thankful we're still on the right side of the grass!"
Why
are you fighting
Watching
from the Club house overlooking the 10 green, we saw a foursome
approaching. Having marked their balls, suddenly one of the guys
fell down and the three others started a fist fight.
The
Golf Captain stormed out from the Club house to separate the fighting
men.
"Why
are you fighting?" he asked "You see," said one of
them, "my partner had a stroke and died just now, and these
buggers want to include it on the scorecard."
Thanks
for saving his life
An
American tourist was playing golf in Scotland when he came to a
hole with a fast flowing river running down the side of the fairway.
A young boy was sitting at the bank of the river and as the tourist
hooked his drive and hit the boy who fell into the river. By the
time the worried golfer arrived at the river bank, the boy was sinking
into the deep water for the third time and was looking poorly.
The tourist immediately jumped into the river and after a real struggle
managed to bring the boy to dry land where he quickly revived him.
He then brought the boy back to the clubhouse where he arranged
for a taxi to take the boy home.
About an hour later a man arrived at the clubhouse and asked the
Pro, "Could you tell me where the man is who saved my son?"
The Pro replied "He's over in the hotel - check with the receptionist."
The man then went to the hotel and asked the receptionist, "Could
you tell me where the man is who saved my son?"
"Yes, I'll call his room and ask him to come down," was
the reply.
A few minutes later the American tourist came down. The man asked
him, "Are you the man who saved my son?"
"Yes, I sure am," was the reply.
"Well, would you have his cap?"
How
did you get here
Man
playing by himself on a gorgeous clear morning, thinking he wouldn't
be dead for quids. After parring the first two holes, he lines up
on the third, a 400 yard par four, and hits a screamer down the
middle. He lines up his second with a 3-iron, but shanks it. It
hits a tree, ricochets back, hits him between the eyes and he drops
dead on the fairway.
His
spirit floats up to the Pearly Gates. "Who are you? says St.
Peter.
"Henry
Chapman" says Henry Chapman.
St
Peter looks at his clipboard and scratches his head. "I've
got no record of you being due; how did you get here?"
"In
Two."
An
odd cure
Peter
was not feeling well, bad enough that his wife Sharon had to go
and get the test results from the doctor.
"Now
Sharon, I don't exactly know what is the problem is -- Peter may
even die if he doesn't get the right treatment. The only thing
is the right treatment is going to seem a little strange.
Peter needs to golf as often as he has strength and you need to
give him all the sex he can handle." Sharon nodded and left.
When she got home, Peter was anxious to find out what his test results
were.
"Well
Sharon, what did Doctor have to say? Sharon looked him straight
in the face. "Your gonna die."
I've just killed my wife
I've
just killed my wife," cried the hysterical golfer rushing into the
clubhouse. "I didn't see her. She was behind me you see," he sobbed,
"and I started my back swing and clipped her right between the eyes.
She must have died on the instant."
"What
club were you using?" asked a concerned bystander.
"Oh,
the No. 2 iron."
"Oh,
oh," murmured the other, "that's the club that always gets me into
trouble too."
I'm
drowning
Misjudging
its depth, Ron went wading into the lake to retrieve his badly sliced
ball. Very quickly he was floundering out of his depth and as his
tweed plus-fours became waterlogged, found himself in real' trouble.
"Help,
I'm drowning!" he shouted to his partner.
"Don't worry," came the reply. "You won't drown. You'll never keep
your head down long enough."
Golf
in hell
Having
led an interestingly dissolute life composed largely of women, drinking,
gambling and golf, but not necessarily in that order, at the end
of it, the new arrival was not too surprised to find himself in
hell. He was however quite surprised to find that his particular
corner of Hades was an eighteen-hole golf course complete with gentle
woods, a cooly serene lake, well kept fairways, an immaculate green
and a clubhouse with the usual professional's shop. The reprobate's
delight was complete when he read the shop's notice.
HELP
YOURSELF. ALL EQUIPMENT FREE.
"Well,
this is going to be tough to take," he leered as he chose a bag
containing perfectly matched clubs. So laden he ambled to the first
tee where he took out a driver, gave a delighted practice swing
and then felt in the ball pocket. It was empty. He was about to
return to the shop to remedy the situation when he noticed a grinning
figure in red.
"Don't
mind me," the grin grew wider, "and don't bother going back for
balls. There aren't any. That's the hell of it!"
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