Posted on 08/30/2007 6:54:25 PM PDT by SmithL
The Worst Golf Foursome Ever
1 Monica Lewinsky
2 OJ Simpson
3 Ted Kennedy
4 Bill Clinton
Why You Ask?
1 Monica Is A Hooker
2 OJ Is A Slicer
3 Ted Kennedy Can’t Drive Over The Water, And
4 Bill Clinton Can’t Remember Which Hole He Played Last!
Another one:
Tiger woods wanted to play this very 'exclusive' golf course. Blacks not being welcome there, a member suggested Woods try the public course "about a 5 iron shot down the road."
Woods said: "But you don't understand. I'm Tiger Woods." The member said: "Well, in THAT case, maybe that would be a 9 iron."
While walking down the street one day, a senator is tragically hit by a truck and killed. His soul arrives in Heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance. “Welcome to Heaven,” says St. Peter. “Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we’re not sure what to do with you.” “No problem, just let me in,” says the senator.
“Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in Hell and one in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.” “There’s no need! I want to be in Heaven,” says the senator. “I’m sorry, but we have our rules.”
And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator, the doors open, and he rides the elevator down, down, down. When the doors open again, the senator finds himself in the middle of a beautiful green golf course. In the distance is a club, and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy and in formal dress. They run to greet him, and they reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar. Also present is the Devil, who is a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that, before the senator realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves while the elevator rises.
The elevator goes up, up, up, and the door reopens in Heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him. So 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by, and St. Peter returns.
“Well, you’ve spent a day in Hell and another in Heaven. Now, you must choose where you want to spend eternity.” He reflects for a minute and then answers, “Well, I would never would have thought it, I mean Heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better satisfied in Hell.”
So Saint Peter escorts him to the elevator, and down, down, down he goes into Hell. Now, the doors of the elevator open, and he is in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags. And it’s hot, hot, hot, and the odor is just horrible. Sweltering hot. Hot and miserable. The Devil comes over to him and smoothly lays his arm around his shoulder.
“I don’t understand,” stammers the senator. “The day before I was here, and there was a golf course and club, and we ate lobster and caviar and danced and had a great time. Now all there is is a wasteland full of garbage, and my friends look miserable.”
The Devil looks at the senator, smiles, and says, “Yesterday we were campaigning. Today you voted for us.”
One fine day, Jim and Bob are out golfing. Jim slices his ball deep into a wooded ravine. He grabs his 8-iron and proceeds down the embankment into the ravine in search of his ball.
The brush is quite thick, but Jim searches diligently and suddenly he spots something shiny. As he gets closer, he realizes that the shiny object is in fact an 8-iron in the hands of a skeleton lying near an old golf ball.
Jim calls out to his golfing partner in an agitated voice, “Hey Bob, come here, I got trouble down here.”
Bob comes running over to the edge of the ravine and calls out, “What’s the matter Jim?”
Jim shouts back, “Throw me my 7-iron! You can’t get out of here with an 8-iron.”
An American golfer playing in Ireland hooked his drive into the woods. Looking for his ball, he found a little Leprechaun flat on his back, a big bump on his head and the golfer’s ball beside him. Horrified, the golfer got his water bottle from the cart and poured it over the little guy, reviving him.
“Arrgh! What happened?” the Leprechaun asked. “I’m afraid I hit you with my golf ball,” the golfer says. “Oh, I see. Well, ye got me fair and square. Ye get three wishes, so whaddya want?” “Thank God, you’re all right!” the golfer answers in relief. “I don’t want anything, I’m just glad you’re OK, and I apologize.” And the golfer walks off.
“What a nice guy,” the Leprechaun says to himself. I have to do something for him. I’ll give him the three things I would want... a great golf game, all the money he ever needs, and a fantastic sex life.”
A year goes by (as it does in stories like this) and the American golfer is back. On the same hole, he again hits a bad drive into the woods; and the Leprechaun is there waiting for him. “Twas me that made ye hit the ball here,” the little guy says. “I just want to ask ye, how’s yer golf game?” “My game is fantastic!” the golfer answers. I’m an internationally famous golfer now.” He adds, “By the way, it’s good to see you’re all right.”
“Oh, I’m fine now, thank ye. I did that fer yer golf game, you know. And tell me, how’s yer money situation?” “Why, it’s just wonderful!” the golfer states. “When I need cash, I just reach in my pocket and pull out $100.00 bills I didn’t even know were there!”
“I did that fer ye also. And tell me, how’s yer sex life?” The golfer blushes, turns his head away in embarrassment, and says shyly, “It’s OK.” “C’mon, c’mon now,” urged the Leprechaun, “I’m wanting to know if I did a good job. How many times a week?” Blushing even more, the golfer looks around then whispers, “Once, sometimes twice a week.” “What??” responds the Leprechaun in shock. “That’s all? Only once or twice a week?”
“Well,” says the golfer, “I figure that’s not bad for a priest in a small parish.”
Arnold Palmer and Tiger Woods are playing the 16th hole, when Tiger’s tee shot lands behind a huge, 100 foot fir tree. Tiger looks at Arnie and says, “How would you play this one? Lay up and take the extra stroke?”
Arnold replies: “When I was your age, I’d just play right over this tree.”
Tiger, not wanting to be shown up by ol’ Arnold Palmer, proceeds to hit the ball high, but not high enough. It bounces off the tree and lands out of bounds. Tiger, really ticked at this point, asks Arnold how he EVER hit a ball over that tree.
Arnold replied: “Well, when I was your age, that tree was only three feet tall.”
Later that day in the club house Bill was speaking with some friends and he told them that Fred had died on the course.
"Oh, that must have been terrible," they said.
"Yes, it was," said Bill.
"All day long it was hit the ball, drag Fred, hit the ball, drag Fred..."
The game of choice for unemployed people or maintenance level workers is basketball.
The game of choice for frontline workers is football.
The game of choice for middle management is tennis.
The game of choice for CEOs and executives is golf.
Conclusion: The higher up on the corporate ladder you are, the smaller your balls are.
A man and his wife walked into a dentist’s office. The man said to the dentist, “Doc, I’m in one hell of a hurry! I have two buddies sitting out in my car waiting for us to go play golf. So forget about the anesthetic and just pull the tooth and be done with it. We have a 10:00 AM tee time at the best golf course in town and it’s 9:30 already. I don’t have time to wait for the anesthetic to work!”
The dentist thought to himself, “My goodness, this is surely a very brave man asking to have his tooth pulled without using anything to kill the pain.” So the dentist asks him, “Which tooth is it sir?”
The man turned to his wife and said, “Open your mouth, Honey, and show him.”
One of the best tools on the course is the word, “fore”
Of course. Just enough room for interpretation on all sides to keep lawyers and judges employed. What a system.
This is it until tonight. I have to get ready for Court Tuesday.
A man staggers into an emergency room with a concussion, multiple bruises, two black eyes and a five iron wrapped tightly around his throat. Naturally, the doctor asks him what happened.
“Well, it was like this,” said the man. “I was having a quiet round of golf with my wife, when at a difficult hole, we both sliced our balls into a pasture of cows. We went to look for them, and while I was rooting around, noticed one of the cows had something white at its rear end. I walked over and lifted up the tail, and sure enough, there was a golf ball with my wife’s monogram on it— stuck right in the middle of the cow’s butt.” “That’s when I made my big mistake.”
“What did you do?” asks the doctor. “Well, I lifted the cow’s tail again and yelled to my wife, “Hey, this looks like yours!”
“I don’t remember much after that!”
What a story....I have to get ready for a sermon on Sunday.
Whaddaya say we tee up about 8 tomorrow morn?
With the Head Neener, of course. (wonder what his excuse will be?)
Renee Russo doing "the waggle" is a work of art. I don't care if she's another left wing looney tune or not...
That is what Tuesday mornings are for. Just get up a little earlier than normal.
LOL; I had to stop playing after I hit the third person on the same hole, and he was playing the hole I had just left.
Wicked slice.
“whould”
That’s creative and cute, who’d have thought I’d notice?
Hitting the house is not a big deal but breaking windows and driving off without taking responsibility is that responsible conduct?
The courts have held knocking a ball onto private property is not a crime as the ball has no intent right and as you say hazards of having a house on a golf course?
I agree..Hitting the house occasionally happens and I accept that.
However
A kid playing stick ball and running off when a window gets broke is one thing. For little weasels paying 10’s of thousands of dollars for a private golf club membership plus dues to run off (Tee Hee) after knowingly breaking a window (You can hear them echo across the little valley) ..
That is a criminal act actually a felony in this case due to the amount of money it costs to replace the windows. In this case it is not mechanically possible to effect the event from a position where one cannot see and hear it due to the placement of trees. So some guy on his second shot hooks the ball into a window he can clearly see and unless deaf can also hear as the glass breaks and falls 80 feet to the ground..
but he is not properly responsible?.. Come On.
I am sure you do not support that do you?
Making the club responsible means everyone in the club will have to pay if one member fails to take responsibility for their actions.. Now since golfers especially duffers more often than not play together it will put pressure on them to take responsibility or maybe be found out and lose their membership what ever..
Seems reasonable to me...
W
I quit golf and bowling. Both for the same reason...
A score of 121.
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