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Bob stood over his tee short on the 18th hole for what seemed like
forever. He’d waggle, look down, look up, but never start his backswing.
Finally David, his playing partner, asked, “Why on Earth are you taking
so long to make this shot?”

“My wife is up there watching me from the clubhouse, and I want to make this shot a good one,” said Bob.

“Good Lord,” said David, “you haven’t got a chance of hitting her from here.”

Joe decides to take his boss Phil to play 9 holes on their lunch. While both men are playing excellent they are often held up by two women in front of them moving at a very slow pace. Joe offers to talk to the women and see if they can speed it up a bit. He gets about half of the way there stops and jogs back.

His boss asks what the problem is. “Well one of those women is my wife and the other my mistress,” complained Joe. Phil just shook his head at Joe and started toward the women determined to finish his round of golf. Preparing to ask the ladies to speed up their game, he too stopped short and turned around.

Joe asked “what’s wrong?” It’s a small, small world Joe, and you’re fired”

Stevie Wonder and Tiger Woods are in a bar.
Woods turns to Wonder and says:
“How is the singing career going?”
Stevie Wonder replies: “Not too bad! How’s the golf?”

Woods replies: “Not too bad, I’ve had some problems with my swing, but I think I’ve got that right now.”
Stevie Wonder says: “I always find that when my swing goes wrong, I need to stop playing for a while and not think about it. Then, the next time I play, it seems to be all right.

Tiger Woods says: “You play golf?”
Stevie Wonder says: “Oh, yes, I’ve been playing for years.”

And Woods says: “But, you’re blind. How can you play golf if you’re blind?”
Wonder replies: “I get my caddie to stand in the middle of the fairway and call to me. I listen for the sound of his voice and play the ball towards him. Then, when I get to where the ball lands, the caddie moves to the green or farther down the fairway and again I play the ball towards his voice.”

“But, how do you putt?” asks Woods.
“Well,” says Stevie, “I get my caddie to lean down in front of the hole and call to me with his head on the ground and I just play the ball towards his voice.”

Woods asks: “What’s your handicap?”
Stevie says, “Well, I’m a scratch golfer.”

Woods, incredulous, says to Stevie: “We’ve got to play a round sometime.”
Wonder replies: “Well, people don’t take me seriously, so I only play for money, and never play for less than $10,000 a hole.”

Woods thinks about it and says, “OK, I’m game for that, when would you like to play?”
Stevie says, “Pick a night!”

In my hand I hold a ball,
white and dimpled, rather small.
Oh, how bland it does appear,
this harmless looking little sphere.

By its size, I could not guess,
the awesome strength it does possess.
But since I fell beneath it’s spell,
I’ve wandered through the fires of hell.

My life has not been quite the same,
since I chose to play this stupid game.
It rules my mind for hours on end.
A fortune it has made me spend.

It’s made me swear and yell and cry.
I hate myself and want to die.
It promises a thing called par,
if I can hit it straight and far.

To master such a tiny ball,
should not be very hard at all.
But my desires the ball refuses
and does exactly as it chooses.

It hooks and slices, dribbles and dies
and disappears before my eyes.
Often it will take a whim
to hit a tree or take a swim.

With miles of grass on which to land,
it finds a tiny patch of sand.
Then has me offering up my soul,
if only it would find the hole.

It’s made me whimper like a pup
and swear that I will give it up.
And take a drink to ease my sorrow,
but the ball well knows…
I’ll be back tomorrow!!!!

A man playing on a new golf course got confused as to what hole he was on.
He saw a lady playing ahead of him. He walked up to her and asked if she
knew what hole he was playing. She replied, “I’m on the 7th hole, and
you’re a hole behind me, so you must be on the 6th hole.” He thanked her
and went back to his golf.

On the back nine, the same thing happened, and he approached the lady again
with the same request. She said, “I’m on the 14th, you are a hole behind
me, so you must be on the 13th.” Once again he thanked her.

He finished his round and went into the club house and saw the lady sitting
at the end of the bar. He went up to her and said, “Let me buy you a drink
to show my appreciation for your help.” He started a conversation and asked
her what kind of work she did. She said she was in sales, and he said he
was in sales also. He asked what she sold.

She replied, “If I told you, you would only laugh.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he said.

She said, “I sell tampons.”

With that he fell on the floor laughing so hard.

She said, “See, I knew you would laugh.”

“That’s not what I’m laughing at,” he replied. “I’m a toilet paper salesman, so I’m STILL one hole behind you!”



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