It’s Saturday morning and Bob’s just about to set off on a round of golf when he realizes that he forgot to tell his wife that the guy who fixes the washing machine is coming around at noon. So Bob heads back to the clubhouse and phones home.
“Hello?” says a little girl’s voice.
“Hi, honey, it’s Daddy, ” says Bob. “Is Mommy near the phone?”
“No, Daddy. She’s upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Frank.” After a brief pause, Bob says, “But you haven’t got an Uncle Frank, honey!”
“Yes, I do, and he’s upstairs in the bedroom with Mommy!”
“Okay, then. Here’s what I want you do. Put down the phone, run upstairs and knock on the bedroom door and shout in to Mommy and Uncle Frank that my car’s just pulled up outside the house.”
“Okay, Daddy!” A few minutes later, the little girl comes back to the phone. “Well, I did what you said, Daddy.”
“And what happened?”
“Well, Mommy jumped out of bed with no clothes on and ran around screaming, then she tripped over the rug and went out the front window and now she’s all dead.”
“Oh, my God! What about Uncle Frank?”
“He jumped out of bed with no clothes on too, and he was all scared and he jumped out the back window into the swimming pool. But he must have forgot that last week you took out all the water to clean it, so he hit the bottom of the swimming pool and now he’s dead too.”
There is a long pause.
“Swimming pool? Is this 854-7039?”
There was an old man named Bill and one of the things he most enjoyed was playing golf with his old buddy Fred. His wife always commented on how happy he looked after a game. But one day he came home from their weekly game looking unhappy and very tired. His wife asked, “What’s the matter Bill? You always seem so happy after golf and you look miserable.”
Bill said, “Well, something terrible did happen. Fred had a heart attack on the first hole.”
“My God, honey!” said the wife, rushing to comfort him, “that must’ve been terrible!”
“It was, ” he said, “all day long it was: hit the ball, drag Fred to the ball and then hit it again…”
Golfing in the Woods
Q: These days, what do you need to shoot to win a professional golf tournament?
A: Tiger Woods.
A couple of women were playing golf one sunny Saturday morning. The first of the twosome teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole.
Indeed, the ball hit one of the men, and he immediately clasped his hands together at his crotch, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in evident agony.
The woman rushed down to the man and immediately began to apologize. She explained that she was a physical therapist: “Please allow me to help. I’m a physical therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you’d allow me!”, she told him earnestly.
“Ummph, oooh, nnooo, I’ll be alright…I’ll be fine in a few minutes”, he replied breathlessly as he remained in the fetal position still clasping his hands together at his crotch.
But she persisted, and finally allowed her to help him. She gently took his hands away an laid them to the side, she loosened his pants, and she put her hands inside. She began to massage him. She then asked him: “How does that feel?”
To which he replied: “It feels great, but my thumb still hurts like hell.”
Golf and Taxes
Q. How is golf like taxes?
A. Well, you drive hard to get to the green, and then you wind up in the hole.