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.”
A Perfect Shot
A golfer stands over his tee shot for what seems an eternity to his partner. He looks up, looks down, measures the distance and figures the wind direction and speed. The longer he takes, the more his partner fidgets.
Finally his exasperated partner says, “What’s taking so long? Hit the blasted ball.”
The guy answers, “My wife is up there watching me from the clubhouse. I want to make this a perfect shot.”
“Forget it, man,” the partner says. “You’ll never hit her from here.”
A hack golfer spends a day at a plush country club, playing golf and enjoying the luxury of a complimentary caddy. Being a hack golfer, he plays poorly all day. Round about the 18th hole, he spots a lake off to the left of the fairway. He looks at the caddy and says, “I’ve played so poorly all day, I think I’m going to go drown myself in that lake.”
The caddy looks back at him and says, “I don’t think you could keep your head down that long.”
Golfing in the Woods
Q: These days, what do you need to shoot to win a professional golf tournament?
A: Tiger Woods.
Golf Love Poem
I think that I shall never see
a hazard rougher than an tree;
A tree o’er which my ball must fly
if on the green it is to lie;
A tree which stands that green to guard,
and makes the shot extremely hard;
A tree whose leafy arms extend
to kill the six iron shot I send;
A tree that stands in silence there,
while angry golfers rave and swear.
Irons were made for fools like me
who cannot ever miss a tree.