In my Hand I Hold A Ball,
White And Dimpled, Rather Small.
Oh, How Bland It Does Appear,
This Harmless Looking Little Sphere.

By It's Size I Could Not Guess,
The Awesome Strength It Does Possess.
But Since I Fell Beneath Its Spell,
I've Wandered Through The Fires Of Hell.

My Life Has Not Been Quite The Same,
Since I Chose To Play This Stupid Game.
It Rules My Mind For Hours On End,
A Fortune It Has Made Me Spend.

Its Made Me Yell, Curse And Cry,
I Hate Myself And Want To Die.
It Promises A Thing Called Par,
If I Can Hit It Straight And Far.

To Master Such A Tiny Ball,
Should Not Be Very Hard At All.
But My Desires The Ball Refuses,
And Does Exactly As It Chooses.

It Hooks And Slices, Dribbles And Dies,
Even Vanishes Before My Eyes.
Often It Will Have A Whim,
To Hit A Tree Or ! Take A  Swim.

With Miles Of Grass On Which To Land,
It Finds A Tiny Patch Of Sand.
Then Has Me Offering Up My Soul,
If Only It Would Find The Hole.

It's Made Me Whimper Like A Pup,
And Swear That I Will Give It Up.
And Take To Drink To Ease My Sorrow,
But The Ball Knows ... I'll Be Back Tomorrow.

Stand proud you noble swingers of clubs and losers of balls....
A recent study found the average golfer walks about 900 miles a year.
Another study found golfers drink, on average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year.
That means, on average, golfers get about 41 miles to the gallon.
Kind of makes you proud. Almost feel like a hybrid.

 > Wife - "Where the hell have you been? You said you'd be done with golf by noon!"
>
> Husband - "I'm so sorry Honey...but you probably don't want to hear the reason."
>
> Wife - "I want the truth, and I want it NOW!"
>
> Husband - "Fine. We finished in under 4 hours, quick beer in the Clubhouse, I hopped in the car, and would have been here at 12 on the
> Button. On the way home, I spotted a girl half our age struggling with a flat tire. I changed it in a jiffy, and next she's offering me money. Of course I refuse it - Then she tells me she was headed to the bar at the Sheraton - and begs me to stop so she can buy me a beer. She's such a sweetie, I said yes. Before you know it - one beer turned to three or four, and I guess we were looking pretty good to each other. Then she tells me she has a room at the Sheraton less than 50 steps from our table. She suggested we get some privacy while pulling me by the hand. Now I'm in her room....clothes are flying ......the talking stopped....and we proceeded to have sex in every way imaginable. It must have gone on for hours, because before I know it the clock says 5:30. I jumped up, threw my clothes on, ran to the car, and here I am. There. You wanted the truth....you got it."
>
> Wife - Hogwash. Carn't kid me, You played 36 holes

During a recent medical examination, my doctor asked me about the extent > and nature of my physical activities.  I described a typical day this way:  "Well, yesterday afternoon, I took a five hour walk of about 6 miles through some pretty rough terrain carrying a large backpack. I waded along the edge of a lake, trudged through a marsh and jumped a couple of streams.  I pushed my way through several bushes and brambles and struggled through a thick wood. I got sand in my shoes, eyes and hair.  I avoided standing on a snake.  I climbed several rocky hills. I took a few 'leaks' behind some big trees.  The mental and physical stress of it all left me shattered.  At the end of it all I drank several beers.  I usually do this about three times a week.'  Inspired by the story, the doctor said, "John, you must be one hell of an  outdoors man!"  "No," I replied, ................................................................ 'I'm just rubbish at golf !!' >

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Here's a note I got this afternoon from a teacher - short and to the point: In the world of hi-tech gadgetry, I've noticed that more and more people   who send text messages and emails have long forgotten the art of capitalization.  For those of you who fall into this category, please take  note of the following statement... 'Capitalization' is the difference between helping your Uncle Jack off a horse and helping your uncle jack off a horse." Is everybody clear on that?     Manure... An interesting fact Manure : In the 16th and 17th centuries, everything had to be transported by ship, and it was also before the invention of commercial fertilizers. So, large shipments of manure were quite common. It was shipped dry, because in dry form, it weighed a lot less than when wet. But, once water (at sea) hit it, not only did it become heavier, but the process of fermentation began again, of which a by product is methane gas, of course. As the stuff was stored below decks in bundles, you can see what could (and did) happen. Methane began to build up below decks, and the first time someone came below at night with a lantern...BOOOOM < SPAN lang=EN-GB> Several ships were destroyed in this manner before it was determined just what was happening. After that, the bundles of manure were always stamped with the instruction: "Stow high in transit" on them, which meant for the sailors to stow it high enough off the lower decks so that any water that came into the hold would not touch this volatile cargo, and start the production of methane. Thus evolved the term "S.H.I.T" (Stow High In Transit), which has come down through the centuries, and is in use to this very day. You probably did not know the true history of this word. Neither did I. I had always thought it was a "GOLF TERM"...

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