|A guy receives an ad in the mail for a golf resort where everything costs one dollar.|
He jumps at the offer and heads off for a weekend of fun in the sun.
He arrives and plays a round of golf. It cost him a buck.
When he goes for dinner that evening, it costs him another buck. His room is only a buck a day!
The day before he's to check out, he heads out to play a last round and stops by the pro shop and charges a sleeve of three balls to his room.
When he's checking out next morning, he looks at the bill and sees:
Sleeve of golf balls: $3,000.00
He asks the Manager, "What is this all about? Everything is supposed to cost one dollar, and you charged me three thousand for three golf balls?"
"I'm sorry, sir, said the manager, but you didn't read the fine print in our promotional brochure. That's what our golf balls cost."
"Well, said the man, If I wanted to spend that kind of money, I could've gone to that luxury hotel across the street and paid them a thousand dollars a day for a room. At least I would've known what I was paying for!"
"That's right, sir, you could have," said the manager.
"Over there they get you by the room. Over here we get you by the balls!"
|A man staggers into an emergency room with 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 she sliced her ball into a pasture of cows.
"We went to look for it and while I was rooting around, I 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 my wife's golf ball -- stuck right in the middle of the cow's butt. That's when I made my mistake."
"What did you do?" asks the doctor.
"Well, I lifted the tail and yelled to my wife, 'Hey, this looks like yours!'"
|Four guys have been going on the same golfing trip to St Andrews (Home of Golf in Scotland) for many years.|
Two days before the group is to leave, John's wife puts her foot down and tells him he isn't going. John's mates are very upset that he can't go, but what can they do. Two days later, the three get to St Andrews only to find John sitting at the bar with four drinks set up!
"Wow, John, how long you been here, and how did you talk your Missus into letting you go?"
"Well, I've been here since last night...
Yesterday evening, I was sitting in my living room chair and my wife came up behind me and put her hands over my eyes and asked, 'Guess who?' I pulled her hands off, and there she was, wearing a nightie. She took my hand and pulled me into our bedroom. She's been reading '50 Shades of Grey' and the room had candles and rose petals all over. On the bed she had handcuffs, and ropes! She told me to tie her up and cuff her to the bed, so I did.
Then she said, 'Do whatever you want.' So, here I am!"
|My wife told me it was about time that I learned to play golf. It's a game where you chase a little ball all over the country when you are too old to chase women.|
So, I went to see Mr. Jones and asked him if he would teach me how to play.
He said, "Sure, you've got balls don't you?"
"Yes, but on cold mornings they are hard to find."
"Bring them to the clubhouse tomorrow and we will tee off."
"What's tee off?"
"It's a golf term and we have to tee off in front of the clubhouse."
"Not for me, " I said. "You can tee off in front of the clubhouse, but I'll tee off behind the barn somewhere.
"No, no, a tee is a little thing about the size of your finger."
"Yeah, I've got one of those."
"Well, you stick it in the ground and put your ball on top of it."
"You play golf sitting down? I always thought you stood up and walked around."
"You do, you're standing up when you put your ball on the tee."
Well, folks, I thought that was stretching things a bit too far and I said so.
He said, "You've got a bag, haven't you?
"Your balls are in it, aren't they?"
"Of course," I told him.
"Well, can't you open your bag and take one out?"
"I suppose I could, but I'll be damned if I am going to.
"Don't you have a zipper on your bag?
"No, I am the old-fashioned type."
"Do you know how to hold your club?"
Well, after 65 years, I should have some sort of an idea and I told him so
He said, "You take your club in both hands...
I knew right then he didn't know what he was talking about.
Then he said, "Swing it over your shoulder..."
That's not me at all. That's my brother he's talking about.
He asked, "How do you hold your club?"
Before I thought about it, I said, "With two fingers."
He said that wasn't right.
He got behind me, put two arms around me, and said for me to bend over and he would show me.
Well, he couldn't catch me there. I didn't spend fourteen years in the Navy for nothing.
He said, "You hit the ball with your club and it soars and soars..."
I could well imagine that
"...And when you're on the green &"
"What's the green?"
"That's where the hole is."
"Sure you're not colour blind?"
"Then you take your putter in your hands..."
"What's a putter?"
"That's the smallest club made."
"That's what I got, a putter."
"And with it, you put your ball into the hole."
I corrected him, "You mean the putter."
"No, the ball. The hole isn't big enough for the ball and putter too."
Well, I've seen some big enough for a horse and wagon.
"Then," he said, "after you finish with the first hole, you go on to the next 17."
Well, he certainly wasn't talking about me. After two holes I'm shot to hell
"You mean you can't make 18 holes in one day?"
"Hell no! It takes me 18 days to make one hole!
"Besides, how do I know when I am in the 18th hole?"
"The flag will go up!"
...Well, golfing is not for me