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Moses, Jesus and an old man are golfing. Moses steps up to
the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the fairway and lands
in the water trap. Moses parts the water and chips the ball onto the
green.
Jesus steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the
fairway and lands in the water trap.
Jesus just walks on the water and chips the ball onto the green. The
old man steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over
the fairway and heads for the water trap. But, just before it falls
into the water, a fish jumps up and grabs the ball in its mouth.As the
fish is falling back down into the water, an eagle swoops down and
grabs the fish in its claws. The eagle flies over the green where a
lightning bolt shoots from the sky and barely misses it. Startled, the
eagle drops the fish. When the fish hits the ground, the ball pops out
of its mouth and rolls into the hole for a hole-in-one.
Jesus then turns to the old man and says, “Dad, if you don’t stop
fooling around, we won’t bring you next time.”

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!!!!



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