Subject: Golf
A golfer set up his ball on the first tee, took a mighty swing and
hit his ball into a clump of trees. He found his ball and saw an
opening between two trees he thought he could hit through.
Taking out his 3-wood, he took another mighty swing; the ball
hit a tree, bounced back, hit him in the forehead and killed him.
As he approached the gates of Heaven, St. Peter saw him coming
and asked "Are you a good golfer', to which the man replied: "Got
here in two, didn't I?"
- - - - -
The bride came down the aisle and when she reached the altar,
the groom was standing there with his golf bag and clubs at his
side.
She said:" What are your golf clubs doing here"?
He looked her right in the eye....and said, "This isn't going to
take all day, is it?"
- - - - - -
An octogenarian who was an avid golfer moved to a new town and
joined the local Country Club. He went to the Club for the first
time to play, but was told that there wasn't anybody he could play
with because they were already out on the course. He repeated
several times that he really wanted to play today.
Finally, the assistant Pro said he would play with him and asked
him how many strokes he wanted for a bet. The 80 year old said, "I
really don't need any strokes as I have been playing quite well.
The only real problem I have, is getting out of sand traps."
And he did play well. Coming to the par four 18th, they were all
even. The Pro had a nice drive and was able to get on the green and
two-putt for a par. The old man had a nice drive, but his approach
shot landed in a sand trap next to the green.
Playing from the bunker he hit a high ball, which landed on the
green and rolled into the cup. Birdie, match and all the money!
The Pro walked over to the sand trap where his opponent was
still standing in the trap. He said: "nice shot, but I thought you
said you have a problem getting out of sand traps?"
Replied the octogenarian "I do, would you please give me a
hand."
- - - - - - -
A woman goes to the local newspaper office to see that the
obituary for her recently deceased husband is published. The obit
editor informs her that there is a charge of 50 cents per word.
She pauses, reflects, and then she says, well then, let it read
"Fred Brown died."
Amused at the woman's thrift, the editor tells her that there is
a seven-word minimum for all obituaries. She thinks it over and in
a few seconds says, "In that case...let it read, "Fred Brown died:
golf clubs for sale." |
