Joke #11915

Q: Why did Hitler hate golf? A: Because he ended up in the bunker.

Two strangers meet on a golf course and decide to play together. One man says, "I'm a salesman. What about you?" "I'm a hit man for the mob," replies the second man. He pulls out a high powered rifle loaded with scopes and sights. He then asks the man where he lives. Nervously, the first man replies, "In a subdivision just west of here. Gray roof, yellow siding." "You got a silver compact and a red pickup?" "The compact is my wife's car, but that's my buddy Jeff's truck." The hit man looks through the scope again. "Well, they're going at it like teenagers in your bedroom." "I want you to shoot her in the head and shoot him in the balls." The hit man says, "I get paid $5,000 per shot." "I don't care! Just do it!" The hit man takes careful aim and says, "This is your lucky day. You're going to get a two for one!"

Q: How many hipsters does it take to screw in a lightbulb? A: One to screw it in and the other to wear skinny jeans.

Golfer: "Think I'm going to drown myself in the lake." Caddy: "I don't think you can keep your head down that long."

Joe loved golf, but his eyesight had gotten so bad, that he couldn't find his ball once he'd hit it. He consulted with his wife, and she recommended that Joe bring along her uncle Ted. Joe said, "But Ted is 80 years old and half senile!" His wife replied, "Yes, but his eyesight is incredible." Joe finally agreed and took Ted along. He teed off and could feel that he had hit it solidly. He asked Ted, "Do you see it?" Ted nodded his head and said, "Boy, that was a beautiful shot!" Joe excitedly asked, "Well, where did it land?!" Ted said, "Hmmm. I forget."

Q: What's a hipster's favorite profession? A: Mortician. All of his work is 6 feet underground.

A nun and a priest decide to take a day off, so they go golfing. The nun gets a hole-in-one, but the priest hits it into a sand trap. He's so angry, he shouts "God dammit, I missed!". The nun reminds him not to take the Lord's name in vain, and the priest apologizes and tries again. He hits it into the rough, and in his anger, shouts "God dammit, I MISSED!". The nun once again tells him not to take the Lord's name in vain, and he apologizes again. On his third shot, he hits it into the water and yells "GOD DAMMIT I MISSED!" and before the nun can say anything, a bolt of lightning strikes the nun, killing her instantly. Out of nowhere, a loud voice booms "God dammit, I missed".

Two strangers meet on a golf course and decide to play together. One man says, "I'm a salesman. What about you?" "I'm a hit man for the mob," replies the second man. He pulls out a high powered rifle loaded with scopes and sights. He then asks the man where he lives. Nervously, the first man replies, "In a subdivision just west of here. Gray roof, yellow siding." "You got a silver compact and a red pickup?" "The compact is my wife's car, but that's my buddy Jeff's truck." The hit man looks through the scope again. "Well, they're going at it like teenagers in your bedroom." "I want you to shoot her in the head and shoot him in the balls." The hit man says, "I get paid $5,000 per shot." "I don't care! Just do it!" The hit man takes careful aim and says, "This is your lucky day. You're going to get a two for one!"

Jesus is the son of God. God is the son of Chuck Norris.

There was an old man named Bill, and one of the things he most enjoyed was playing golf with his old buddy Fred. Bill's wife always commented on how happy he looked after a game. But one day he came home from their weekly game looking terrible and very tired. His wife asked, "What's the matter, Bill? You always seem so happy after golf and you look miserable right now." Bill said, "Well, something terrible happened. Fred had a heart attack on the first hole." "My God, honey!" said the wife, rushing to comfort him. "That must've been terrible!" "It was," he said. "All day long it was: hit the ball, drag Fred to the ball, and then hit it again..."

After a 2 year study, the National Science Foundation announced the following results on America's ball-related recreational preferences: The sport of choice for unemployed or incarcerated people is basketball. The sport of choice for maintenance level employees is bowling. The sport of choice for blue-collar workers is football. The sport of choice for supervisors is baseball. The sport of choice for middle management is tennis. The sport of choice for corporate officers is golf. Conclusion: The higher you rise in the corporate structure, the smaller your balls become.