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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?

"Sure.

"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
Three men went out on Sunday to play some golf.

On the fourth hole, Fred chipped a shot into the rough. "You all play on ahead," he insisted. "I'll catch up with you."

Off they went, but after half an hour had gone by with no sign of their friend, Charlie said, "I'll go check on him."

The last guy played on for a while, but couldn't help wondering what on earth had happened to his companions. So, he too, finally turned back to check matters out. An astonishing sight greeted him when he returned to the fourth hole: poor Fred was bent over the backseat of his golf cart, with his buddy energetically screwing him up the arse.

"Charlie, Charlie, what the hell are you doing!" he yelled, breaking into a run.

"It was horrible," gasped a red-faced Charlie. "When I got here, Fred had a massive heart attack."

"You're supposed to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation" ," cried the third guy, "and a heart massage, you idiot."

"I know that," retorted Charlie indignantly. "How do you think this whole sex thing got started? He has such a lovely lips and chest. That and I misheard him after he came round when he said something about he wanted a hole in one!"
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