And now for the Hash Crap…All about Golf this week:
The Norwegian's wife steps up to the tee and as she bends over to place her
ball, a gust of wind blows her skirt up and reveals her lack of underwear.
Good God, Lena! Why aren't you wearing any skivvies?, Ole demanded.
Well, you don't give me enough housekeeping money to afford any.
The Norwegian immediately reaches into his pocket and says,
For the sake of decency, here's a 50. Go and buy yourself some underwear.
Next, the Irishman's wife bends over to set her ball on the tee.
Her skirt blows up to show that she, too, is wearing no undies.
Blessed Virgin Mary, woman! You've no knickers. Why not?
She replies, I can't afford any on the money you give me.
Patrick reaches into his pocket and says, For the sake of decency, here's a
20.
Go and buy yourself some underwear!
Lastly, the Scotsman's wife bends over. The wind also takes her skirt over
her head to reveal that she, too, is naked under it.
Sweet mudder of Jaysus, Aggie! Where the frig are yer drawers?
She too explains, You dinna give me enough money ta be able to affarrd any.
The Scotsman reaches into his pocket and says,
Well fer love 'o decency, here's a comb..... Tidy yerself up a bit.
Golf Story
A father, son and grandson went to the country club for their weekly round
of golf. Just as they reached the first tee, a beautiful young blonde woman carrying
her bag of clubs approached them.
She explained that the member who brought her to the club for a round of
golf had an emergency that called him away and asked the trio whether she
could join them.
Naturally, the guys all agreed.
Smiling, the blonde thanked them and said, 'Look, fellows, I work in a
topless bar as a dancer, so nothing shocks me anymore. If any of you want to
smoke cigars, have a beer, bet, swear, tell off-colour stories or do
anything that you normally do when playing a round together, go ahead.
But, I enjoy playing golf, consider myself pretty good at it, so don't try
to coach me on how to play my shots.'
With that the guys agreed to relax and invited her to drive first.
All eyes were fastened on her shapely behind as she bent to place her ball
on the tee. She then took her driver and hit the ball 270 yards down the middle, right
in front of the green.
The father's mouth was agape. 'That was beautiful,' he said.
The blonde put her driver away and said, 'I really didn't get into that one, and I
faded it a little.'
After the three guys hit their drives and their second shots, the blonde
took out an eight iron and lofted the ball to within five feet of the hole.
(She was closest to the pin.)
The son said, 'Damn, lady, you played that perfectly.'
The blonde frowned and said, 'It was a little weak, but even an easy seven
would have been too much club. I've left myself a tricky little putt.'
She then proceeded to tap in the five-footer for a birdie.
Having the honours, she drove first on the second hole, knocked the heck out
of the ball, and it landed nearly 300 yards away smack in the middle of the
fairway.
For the rest of the round the statuesque blonde continued to amaze the guys,
quietly and methodically shooting for par or less on every hole.
When they arrived at the 18th green, the blonde was three under par, and had
a very nasty 12-foot putt on an undulating green for a par.
She turned to the three guys and said, 'I really want to thank you all for
not acting like a bunch of chauvinists and telling me what club to use or
how to play a shot, but I need this putt for a 69 and I'd really like to
break 70 on this course.
If any one of you can tell me how to make par on this hole I'll take him
back to my apartment, pour some 35-year-old Single Malt Strathmill Scotch in
him, fix him a steak dinner and then show him a very good time for the rest of
the night.'
The yuppie son jumped at the thought! He strolled across the green,
carefully eyeing the line of the putt and finally said, 'Honey, aim about 6
inches to the right of the hole and hit it firm. It will get over that
little hump and break left into the cup.'
The father knelt down and sighted the putt using his putter as a plumb.
'Don't listen to the kid, darlin', you want to hit it softly 10 inches to
the left of the hole and let it run right down that little hogback, so that it falls into the hole.'
The old gray-haired grandfather walked over to the blonde's ball, picked it
up and handed it to her and said, 'That's a gimme, sweetheart.'
The blonde smiled and said, 'Your car or mine?'
The moral to the story is:
OLD AGE AND TREACHERY
WILL OVERCOME
YOUTH AND SKILL
EVERY TIME!
