A husband and wife love to golf together, but neither of them areplaying like they want to, so they decide to take private lessons.
The husband has his lesson first.
After the pro sees his swing, hesays, "No no, no, you're gripping the club way too hard!"
"Well, what should I do?"
asks the man.
"Hold the club gently," the pro replied, "just like you'd hold your wife's breast."
The man takes the advice, takes a swing, and POW"
He hits the ball250 yds.
straight up the fairway.
The man goes back to his wifewith the good news, and the wife can't wait for her lesson.
The next day the wife goes for her lesson.
The pro watches herswing and says, "No, no, no, you're gripping the club way too hard."
"What can I do?"
asks the wife."
Hold the club gently, just like you'd hold your husband's penis."
The wife listens carefully to the pro's advice, takes a swing, andTHUMP.
The ball goes straight down the fairway.

about 15 ft.
"That was great," the pro says with a straight face.
"Now, take the club out of your mouth and swing it like you're supposed to!"

Bart and Andrew were playing golf, and, teeing off, Bart sliced to the left and sent his ball flying into the rough. Going after it, he found the ball nestled in a field of

buttercups. Taking out his nine-iron; Bart started thrashing away at the buttercups, looking for his ball.

Suddenly Bart heard a woman's voice behind him. "What are you doing?"

Turning, he saw a lovely young woman dressed in a flowing white gown and a wreath of red roses around her head.

Bart said, "What's it any of your business?"

The woman replied, "I'm Mother Nature, and henceforth, for what you've done to my buttercups, you will become deathly sick for a full day whenever you eat butter."

With that the woman faded into a sunbeam and vanished. Astonished, Bart stumbled from the rough to find his partner and tell him what happened. Calling for Andrew, he

heard his friend reply, "I'm over here, looking for my ball."

"Where? I can't see you!"

"In the pussywillows."

Bart screamed at the top of his lungs, "Christ, whatever you do don't swing your club!"

A handsome young golfer was playing in his first professional tournament. At the end of the first day's activity, the novice was ahead, and a beautiful woman sidled up to

him in the clubhouse.

"Say," she cooed, "do you swing as well off the green?"

Rising to the challenge, he took the girl back to his hotel room, and they made love, after which he rolled over and went to sleep.

"Hey," she shook him awake, "Tom Watsqn wouldn't give up so quickly!"

Mustering his energies, he made love to her a second time, after which he slipped off, quite exhausted.

The woman shook him again. "Hey, Arnold Palmer wouldn't give up so quickly!"

The golfer was getting some life back in his jaw, and, taking a deep breath, he made love to her yet again. When he was through, he fell asleep on top of her, too tired to

move. She tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Jack Nicklaus wouldn't fade away like that!"

Angry and just a touch mortified, the golfer rose. "Say—just what is par for this hole, anyway?"