A golfer, now into his golden years, had a lifelong ambition to play the 17th hole at TPC Sawgrass in Ponte Vedre, Florida, exactly the way the pros do it.

The pros drive the ball out over the water onto the small green that is on a small spit of land. It was something the golfer had tried hundreds of times without success. His ball had always fallen short, into the water.

Because of this, he never used a new ball on this particular hole. He always picked out one that had a cut or a nick, as did many other “average” golfers when negotiating very challenging holes.

Recently he went to Sawgrass to try again When he came to the fateful hole, he teed up an old, cut ball as usual, and said a silent prayer. However, before he could hit the ball, a powerful voice from above seemed to be booming out from the clouds, saying, “Replace that old ball with a brand new one, a Titleist ProV1 if you have it.”

The golfer complied, with some slight misgivings, despite the fact that this same force seemed to be implying that he was going to finally achieve his lifelong ambition.

As he stepped up to the tee once more, the voice came down again, “Wait. Step back. Take a practice swing.”

So he stepped back and took a practice swing, certain now that this heavenly force was going to make his dream come true.

The voice boomed out again, “Take another practice swing.” Dutifully, he did. He stopped expectantly and waited; a long silence followed. Then, the voice again, “Use the old ball.”

God visited a woman and told her she must give up smoking, drinking and unmarried sex if she wants to get into heaven.

The woman said she would try her best.

God visited the woman a week later to see how she was getting on.

“Not bad” said the woman, “I’ve given up smoking and drinking but then I bent over to get some stuff out of the freezer and my boyfriend caught sight of my long slender legs, he pulled up my skirt, pulled my panties to one side and made love to me right then and there.”

“They don’t like that in heaven,” God said.

The woman replied, “They’re not too happy about it in Costco either!”

I recently called an old MIT graduate pal and asked what he was working on these days. He replied that he was working on “Aqua-thermal treatment of ceramics, aluminum and steel
under a constrained environment.”

I was impressed…upon further inquiry, I learned that he was washing dishes with hot water under his wife’s supervision.

Cicero was correct
An age old system of corruption that is still in existence. Cicero was truly an astute politician. *Cicero of the Roman empire wrote this about the situation during his lifetime:*

1. The poor, work & work.
2. The rich, exploit the poor.
3. The soldier, protects both.
4. The taxpayer, pays for all three.
5. The wanderer, rests for all four.
6. The drunk, drinks for all five.
7. The banker, robs all six.
8. The lawyer, misleads all seven.
9. The doctor, bills all eight.
10. The undertaker, buries all nine.
11. The Politician lives happily on account of all ten.

*Written in 43 B.C., but valid even today. *

A man and his wife  moved back home to Cork , from London.  The wife had a wooden leg, — and to insure it in Britain was £2000.00 a year!

When  they arrived in Cork , they went to an Insurance agency to  see how much it would cost to insure the wooden  leg. The agent looked it up on the computer and said to the  couple, ‘€39.00.’

The husband was shocked and asked why it  was so cheap here in Ireland to insure, because it cost him  £2000.00 in England!

The agent turned his computer screen to  the couple and said, ‘Well, here it is on the screen, it  says: ‘*Any wooden structure, with a sprinkler system over it,  is €39.00.*’

I always did find the  Irish Logic far superior to most others.

An Arizona Highway Patrol officer stops a Harley for traveling faster than the posted speed limit, so he asks the biker his name.

‘Fred,’ he replies.

‘Fred what?’ the officer asks.

‘Just Fred,’ the man responds.

The officer is in a good mood, thinks he might just give the biker a break, and write him out a warning instead of a ticket. The officer then presses him for the last name.

The man tells him that he used to have a last name but lost it.

The officer thinks that he has a nut case on his hands but plays along with it. ‘Tell me, Fred, how did you lose your last name?’

The biker replies, ‘It’s a long story, so stay with me.’ I was born Fred Johnson. I studied hard and got good grades. When I got older, I realized that I wanted to be a doctor. I went through college, medical school, internship, residency, and finally got my degree, so I was Fred Johnson, MD. After a while I got bored being a doctor, so I decided to go back to school. Dentistry was my dream! Got all the way through School, got my degree, so then I was Fred Johnson, MD, DDS. Got bored doing dentistry, so I started fooling around with my assistant and she gave me VD, so now I was Fred Johnson, MD, DDS, with VD.

Well, the ADA found out about the VD, so they took away my DDS. Then I was Fred Johnson, MD, with VD. Then the AMA found out about the ADA taking away my DDS because of the VD, so they took away my MD leaving me as Fred Johnson with VD. Then the VD took away my Johnson, so now I am Just Fred.’

The officer walked away in tears, laughing.

A Honda mechanic was removing a cylinder head from the motor of a Honda vehicle when he spotted a well-known cardiologist in his shop. The cardiologist was there waiting for the service manager to come and take a look at his car when the mechanic shouted across the garage,”Hey Doc, want to take a look at this?” The cardiologist, a bit surprised with the mechanic’s suggestion, walked over to where the mechanic was working on the Honda’s engine. The mechanic straightened up, wiped his hands on a rag and asked, “So Doc, look at this engine. I opened its heart, took the valves out, repaired or replaced anything damaged, and then put everything back in, and when I finished, it worked just like new.

So how is it that I make $54,000 a year and you make $1.5M when you and I are doing basically the same work? The cardiologist paused, leaned over, and then whispered to the mechanic….

“Try doing it with the engine running.”

Tobacco Smoke Enema Kit  (1750s – 1810s).

The tobacco enema was used to infuse tobacco smoke into a patient’s rectum for various medical purposes, but primarily the resuscitation of drowning victims.

A rectal tube inserted into the anus was connected to a fumigator and bellows that forced the smoke into the rectum. The warmth of the smoke was thought to promote respiration.

Doubts about the credibility of tobacco enemas led to the popular phrase “blowing smoke up your ass.”

As you are most likely aware, this odd tool is still heavily used by all levels of government.

Jesus was wandering around Jerusalem when he decided that he really needed a new robe.

After looking around for a while, he saw a sign for Finkelstein, the Tailor.

So, he went in and made the necessary arrangements to have Finkelstein prepare a new robe for him. A few days later, when the robe was finished, Jesus tried it on — and it was a perfect fit!

He asked how much he owed.

Finkelstein brushed him off: “No, no, no, for the Son of God there’s no charge!

However, may I ask for a small favor. Whenever you give a sermon, perhaps you could just mention that your nice new robe was made by Finkelstein, the Tailor?”

Jesus readily agreed and as promised, extolled the virtues of his Finkelstein robe whenever he spoke to the masses.

A few months later, while Jesus was again walking through Jerusalem he happened to walk past Finkelstein’s shop and noted a huge line of people waiting for Finkelstein’s robes.

He pushed his way through the crowd to speak to him and as soon as Finkelstein spotted him he said: “Jesus, Jesus, look what you’ve done for my business!

Would you consider a partnership?”

“Certainly,” replied Jesus.

“Jesus & Finkelstein it is.”

“Oh, no, no,” said Finkelstein.

“Finkelstein & Jesus.

After all, I am the craftsman.”

The two of them debated this for some time.

Their discussion was long and spirited, but ultimately fruitful — and they finally came up with a mutually acceptable compromise.

A few days later, the new sign went up over Finkelstein’s shop: