A single guy decided life would be more fun if he had a pet.

So he went to the pet store and told the owner that he wanted to buy an unusual pet.

After some discussion, he finally bought a talking centipede, (100-legged bug), which came in a little white box to use for his house.

He took the box back home, found a good spot for the box, and decided he would start off by taking his new pet to church with him.

So he asked the centipede in the box, “Would you like to go to church with me today We will have a good time.”

But there was no answer from his new pet.

This bothered him a bit, but he waited a few minutes and then asked again, “How about going to church with me and receive blessings

But again, there was no answer from his new friend and pet. So he waited a few minutes more, thinking about the situation.

The guy decided to invite the centipede one last time. This time he put his face up against the centipede’s house and shouted, “Hey, in there! Would you like to go to church with me and learn about God

…..

YOU ARE GOING TO LOVE THIS ……

This time, a little voice came out of the box, “I heard you the first time! I’m putting my shoes on!”

After their 11th child, an Alabama couple decided that was enough, as they could not afford a larger bed. So the husband went to his veterinarian and told him that he and his cousin didn’t want to have any more kids.

The doctor told him that there was a procedure called a vasectomy that could fix the problem but that it was expensive.

‘A less costly alternative,’ said the doctor, ‘is to go home, get a cherry bomb, (fireworks are legal in Alabama) light it, put it in a beer can

(COORS), then hold the can up to your ear and count to 10.

‘The Alabamian said to the doctor, ‘I may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but I don’t see how putting a cherry bomb in a beer can next to ear is going to help me. ”Trust me,’ said the doctor.

So the man went home, lit a cherry bomb and put it in a beer can. He held the can up to his ear and began to count!

“1”

“2”

“3”

“4”

“5”

At which point he paused, placed the beer can between his legs and continued counting on his other hand.

This procedure also works in Tennessee, Kentucky, Louisiana, Arkansas, Mississippi, parts of Georgia, Missouri, West Virginia, Alabama, South Carolina, and all of Washington DC …

* ATD  At the doctor’s

* BFF   Best friends funeral

* BTW  Bring the Wheelchair

* BYOT  Bring Your Own Teeth

* CBM- Covered by Medicare

* CUATSC  See You at the Senior Center

* DWI – Driving While Incontinent

* FWIW – Forgot Where I Was

*GGPBL – Gotta Go, Pacemaker Battery Low

* GHA –  Got Heartburn Again

* HGBM – Had Good Bowel Movement

*LMDO – Laughing My Dentures Out

* LOL – Living on Lipitor

* OMSG – Oh My! Sorry, Gas

* TOT – Texting on Toilet

* WAITT – Who Am I Talking To?

Hope these help.

GGLKI (Gotta Go, Laxative Kicking in!)

I was thinking about how a status symbol of today is those cell phones that everyone has clipped onto their belt or purse.  I can’t afford one.  So I’m wearing my garage door opener.

I also made a cover for my hearing aid and now I have what they call blue teeth, I think.

You know, I spent a fortune on deodorant before I realized that people didn’t like me anyway.

I was thinking that women should put pictures of missing husbands on beer cans!

I was thinking about old age and decided that old age is when you still have something on the ball but you are just too tired to bounce it.

I thought about making a fitness movie for folks my age and call it ‘Pumping Rust’.

When people see a cat’s litter box they always say, ‘Oh, have you got a cat?’  Just once I want to say, ‘No, it’s for company!’

Employment application blanks always ask who is to be called in case of an emergency. I think you should write, ‘An ambulance.’

I was thinking about how people seem to read the Bible a whole lot more as they get older.  Then it dawned on me.  They were cramming for their finals.

Birds of a feather flock together . . . .and then crap on your car.

A penny saved is a government oversight.

The older you get the tougher it is to lose weight because by then your body and your fat have gotten to be really good friends.

The easiest way to find something lost around the house is to buy a replacement.

He who hesitates. .. is probably right.

Did you ever notice: The Roman Numerals for forty (40) are XL.

If you can smile when things go wrong you have someone in mind to blame.

The sole purpose of a child’s middle name is so he can tell when he’s really in trouble..

Aging: Eventually you will reach a point when you stop lying about your age and start bragging about it.

Some people try to turn back their “odometers.” Not me. I want people to know ‘why’ I look this way.  I’ve traveled a long way and some of the roads weren’t paved.

When you are dissatisfied and would like to go back to your youth think of Algebra.

You know you are getting old when everything either dries up or leaks.

One of the many things no one tells you about aging is that it is such a nice change from being young.

Ah! Being young is beautiful but being old is comfortable.

Lord, Keep your arm around my shoulder and your hand over my mouth.

One day a fourth-grade teacher asked the children what their fathers did for
a living. All the typical answers came up – fireman, mechanic, businessman, salesman… and so forth..

However, little Phil Jr. was being uncharacteristically quiet, so when the teacher prodded him about his father, he replied,  “My father’s an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret and takes off all his clothes to music in front of other men and they put money in his underwear.  Sometimes, if the offer is really good, he will go home with some guy and stay with him all night for money.”

The teacher, obviously shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on some exercises and took little Phil Jr. aside to ask him, “Is that really true about your father?”

“No,” the boy said, “He plays football for the Chicago Bears, but it’s too embarrassing to say that in front of the other kids.”

Every time I say I’m giving up this game for bowling I guess I just have to read this! 

It’s the smell of fresh cut grass.

It’s the way the first tee feels, alive with possibility.

It’s that feeling, out of nowhere, that comes as you’re lining up a putt, letting you know that all you have to do is get the ball rolling and the hole got in the way

It’s the thump of a well-played bunker shot.

It’s nine holes late in the day, when the sun is sinking and the shadows  are stretching, showing every bump and roll in a golden light that makes you stop and look around.

It’s the Golf Channel on in the corner of the bar.

It’s calling your shot and pulling it off.

It’s the eighth hole at Grandfather, the third at Linville and the 14th at Balsam Mountain, paintings with a flagstick in the middle.

It’s your Saturday morning game, with a little money on the line and no haggling about the teams.

It’s the guys who look like they can’t play a lick then spend their days around par, not needing swing coaches, just having a knack for getting the ball in the hole.

It’s calling your own penalties. 

It’s a kid with his bag slung over his shoulder, cap pulled low, hoofing it down a fairway.

It’s nipping a wedge just right, having it bounce once and cozy up to the hole the way Sergio does it.

It’s a bowl of peanuts and a cold beer at the end of the day, when stories can be embellished, if only a little.

It’s the warm feel of a turtleneck in December, the first greening of the grass in March, the thrill of hitting it a club longer in July and greens as fast as the kitchen floor in October.

It’s the suntan marks left by  your golf socks and shoes.

It’s Harbour Town in April, Quail Hollow in May and Pinehurst (Sea Island) any time.

It’s having the sun behind you and catching a tee shot square, having a moment to admire it as it’s framed against the sky.

It’s the small but sudden thrill of finding a new Titleist,even if you already have a bagful.

It’s the clutch in your throat the first time you see St. Andrews and the never-ending thrill of Amen Corner.

It’s the belief that the magic you’ve found in a new driver will last forever.

It’s the scent of salt air, the faint taste of pine pollen on your lips and the glimpse of a gator in a low country lagoon.

It’s standing over a 5-footer that doesn’t matter to anyone but you and being thankful for the feeling.

It’s Tiger on the tee, Mickelson with a wedge in his hand, Nicklaus on the property.

It’s the little places with pickups in the parking lot, ragged grass, bumpy greens, worn-out golf carts, yellow range balls and a spirit all their own.

It’s the way you practice your swing in the elevator riding down, the way you put an overlapping grip on the rake and the way you see golf holes where others just see fields along the highway.

It’s the way tournament golf feels, even if it’s just a little club event.

It’s the feel of new grips and the shine of new irons.

It’s playing with your father, your brother or your daughter.

It’s listening to David Feherty, Johnny Miller and Nick Faldo explain the game as only they can.

It’s the gentle creak of aging muscles in the evening, a good tired.

It’s a birdie at the 18th to win the press.

It’s having people who understand what’s important, whether it’s renovating a course or reinventing a local tournament. 

It’s going for a par-5 in two, trying to cut a corner and that instant when you wonder if the shot is as good as it looks.

It’s Golf.

And, It’s Why We Play!

Wouldn’t it be great if we could put ourselves in the dryer for ten minutes; come out wrinkle-free and three sizes smaller!

 Last year I joined a support group for procrastinators.  We haven’t met yet!

 I don’t trip over things, I do random gravity checks!

 I don’t need anger management.  I need people to stop pissing me off!

Old age is coming at a really bad time!

 When I was a child I thought Nap Time was a punishment … now, as a grown up, it just feels like a small vacation!

The biggest lie I tell myself is … “I don’t need to write that down, I’ll remember it.”

Lord grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can & the friends to post my bail when I finally snap!

I don’t have gray hair.  I have “wisdom highlights”.  I’m just very wise.

 My people skills are just fine.  It’s my tolerance to idiots that needs work.

Teach your daughter how to shoot, because a restraining order is just a piece of paper.

 The kids text me “plz” which is shorter than please.  I text back “no” which is shorter than “yes”.

I’m going to retire and live off of my savings.  Not sure what I’ll do that second week

When did it change from “We the people” to “screw the people”?

I’ve lost my mind and I’m pretty sure my wife took it!

Even duct tape can’t fix stupid … but it can muffle the sound!

Why do I have to press one for English when you’re just gonna transfer me to someone I can’t understand anyway?

Of course I talk to myself, sometimes I need expert advice.

At my age “Getting lucky” means walking into a room and remembering what I came in there for.

Can you name this strange old tool? Do you know what it is?

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.

An elderly couple were having dinner one evening when the husband reached across the table, took his wife’s hand in his and said, Martha, soon we will be married 50 years, and there’s something I have to know.  In all of these 50 years, have you ever been unfaithful to me?”

Martha replied, “Well Henry, I have to be honest with you. Yes, I’ve been unfaithful to you three times during these 50 years, but always for a good reason…

Henry was obviously hurt by his wife’s confession, but said, “I never suspected. Can you tell me what you mean by ‘good reasons?'”

Martha said, “The first time was shortly after we were married, and we were about to lose our little house because we couldn’t pay the mortgage. Do you remember that evening I went to see the banker and the next day he notified you that the loan would be extended?”

Henry recalled the visit to the banker and said, “I can forgive you for that. You saved our home, but what about the second time?”

Martha asked, “Do you remember when you were so sick, but we didn’t have the money to pay for the heart surgery you needed? Well, I went to see your doctor one night and, if you recall, he did the surgery at no charge.”

“I recall that,” said Henry. “And you did it to save my life, so of course I can forgive you for that. Now tell me about the third time.”

 “All right,” Martha said. So do you remember when you ran for president of your golf club, and you needed 53 more votes?”