An elderly couple was celebrating their sixtieth anniversary. The couple had married as childhood sweethearts and had moved back to their old neighborhood after they retired. Holding hands, they walked back to their old school. It was not locked, so they entered, and found the old desk they’d shared, where Jerry had carved I love you, Sally.

On their way back home, a bag of money fell out of an armored car, practically landing at their feet. Sally quickly picked it up and, not sure what to do with it, they took it home. There, she counted the money – fifty thousand dollars!

Jerry said, We’ve got to give it back.

Sally said, Finders keepers. She put the money back in the bag and hid it in their attic.

The next day, two police officers were canvassing the neighborhood looking for the money, and knocked on their door. Pardon me, did either of you find a bag that fell out of an armored car yesterday?

Sally said, No.

Jerry said She’s lying. She hid it up in the attic.

Sally said, don’t believe him, he’s getting senile.

The agents turned to Jerry and began to question him. One said: Tell us the story from the beginning.

Jerry said, well, when Sally and I were walking home from school yesterday….

The first police officer turned to his partner and said, we’re outta here!

The location of your mailbox shows you how far away from your house you can be in a robe before you start looking like a mental patient.

 My therapist said that my narcissism causes me to misread social situations. I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.

My 60 year kindergarten reunion is coming up soon and I’m worried about the 175 pounds I’ve gained since then.

I always wondered what the job application is like at Hooters. Do they just give you a bra and say, “Here, fill this out?”

Denny’s has a slogan, “If it’s your birthday, the meal is on us.” If you’re in Denny’s and it’s your birthday, your life sucks!

If I make you breakfast in bed, a simple “Thank you” is all I need … not all this, “How did you get into my house?” business!

The pharmacist asked me my birth date again today. I’m pretty sure she’s going to get me something.

On average, an American man will have sex two to three times a week. Whereas, a Japanese man will have sex only one or two times a year. This is very upsetting news to me. I had no idea I was Japanese.

I can’t understand why women are okay that JC Penny has an older women’s clothing line named, “Sag Harbor.”

I think it’s pretty cool how Chinese people made a language entirely out of tattoos.

What is it about a car that makes people think we can’t see them pick their noses?

Money can’t buy happiness, but it keeps the kids in touch!

The reason Mayberry was so peaceful and quiet was because nobody was married. Andy, Aunt Bea, Barney, Floyd, Howard, Goober, Gomer, Sam, Earnest T Bass, Helen, Thelma Lou, Clara and, of course, Opie were all single. The only married person was Otis, and he stayed drunk.

I almost retired in Phoenix, Arizona where…

1. Folks are willing to park three blocks away from any destination because they found some shade.
2. People experience condensation on their rear-ends from the hot water in the toilet bowl.
3. Folks can drive for four hours in one direction and never leave the Phoenix Metro Area.
4. Everyone has over 100 recipes for Mexican food.
5. Folks know that “dry heat” is comparable to what hits them in the face if they open an oven door at 500 degrees.
6. The four seasons are: tolerable, hot, damn hot, and ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

-OR-

I thought about retiring in California where…

1. Folks make over $450,000 and you still can’t afford to buy a house.
2. The fastest part of people’s commute is going down your driveway
3. Everybody knows how to eat an artichoke.
4. When someone asks how far something is, you tell them how long it will take to get there rather than how many miles away it is.
5. The four seasons are: Fire, Flood, Mud, and Drought.
6. Folks can live on the beach for free (especially in the LA area).  All they need is a shopping cart, a blanket, a bottle of cheap wine, a stray dog, and an old tarp salvaged from a dumpster (in case it rains).

-OR-

I considered retiring in New York City where…

1. Folks say “the city” and expect everyone to know they mean Manhattan.
2. Folks can get into a four-hour argument about how to get from Columbus Circle to Battery Park but can’t find Wisconsin on a map.
3. Folks think Central Park is “nature.”
4. Folks believe that being able to swear at people in their own language makes them multilingual.
5. Most folks have worn out their car horns…  IF they have a car and a driver’s license!
6. Folks think eye contact is an act of aggression.
7. But, of course, nobody really plans to retire in NYC, they plan on moving to Florida, but die first.

-OR-

I might have retired in New Jersey where…

Nobody retires in ‘Jersey,’ except people from New York City.

-OR-

I could have retired in Duluth, Minnesota where…

1. Folks only have three spices: salt, pepper, and ketchup.
2. Halloween costumes have to fit over parkas.
3. Everybody has seventeen recipes for casserole.
4. Sexy lingerie is anything flannel with less than eight buttons.
5. The four seasons are: almost winter, winter, still winter, and 7 weeks of road repairs.

-OR-

 I thought of retiring in The Deep South where…

1. Folks can rent a movie and buy bait in the same store.
2. “Y’all” is singular and “all y’all” is plural.
3. “He needed killin” is a valid defense in court.
4. Everyone has two first names:  Billy Bob, Jimmy Bob, Joe Bob, Betty Jean, Mary Beth, etc.
5. Everything is either: “in yonder”  or “over yonder”  or “out yonder.”
6. You can say anything about anyone, as long as you say “Bless his heart” at the end!

-OR-

I might have moved to Colorado where…

1. Folks carry their $3,000 mountain bikes atop ancient (heavily rusted) $900 Jeep Cherokees.
2. Women tell their husbands to pick up Granola on the way home, so hubby stops at the daycare center.
3. A pass does not involve a football or dating.
4. The top of many male heads are bald, but they still have ponytails.

-OR-

I could have retired in Nebraska where… 

1. Folks never meet any celebrities, but the mayor knows everybody’s name.
2. A traffic jam is three cars waiting to pass a tractor.
3. You often have to switch from “heat” to “A/C” on the same day.
4. Folks end every sentence with a preposition (e.g., “Where’s my coat at?”)

-OR-

FINALLY, I could have retired in Florida where…

1. Retirees eat dinner at 3:15 in the afternoon for $2.
2. All purchases include a coupon of some kind – even houses and cars.
3. Everyone can recommend an excellent cardiologist, dermatologist, proctologist, podiatrist, or orthopedist.
4. It’s just as hot as Arizona, only they have humidity.
5. Cars in front of you often appear to be driven by headless people.
6. If you’re 65 they consider you a youngster.
7. When you vote for a president you generally are not around for the second term.
8. Where you thought you would get away from all the assholes in NY and NJ.

By Mick Kemper

I attended the 2002 US Senior Open at Caves Valley Golf Course in Maryland. While standing in a large crowd behind the 11^th green, I saw Arnold Palmer and his army round the corner of the fairway. He proceeded to hit his second shot onto the green about 30 feet from the hole.  As he reached the green and surveyed his putt, a spectator yelled, “it’s good, Arnie, pick it up.” 

Short putts are the Bermuda Triangle of golf. Just ask Scott Hoch who missed a 2 foot putt to lose the 1989 Masters. Missing a short putt is like fumbling at the goal line, dropping a pop up for the final out, or driving across the country to discover Wally World is closed. It is devastating.

Fortunately, amateur golfers have a vaccine for these blown putts, a get out of jail free card, it’s called a “gimmie”. It works like this. You are standing over a three foot putt to save par. Sweat is running down your back into your Tommy Johns and dread is creeping into your fragile psyche. You are agonizing over the proverbial question, “Do I ease it in or ram it home?” Then suddenly you hear those magic words, “That’s good, pick it up.” 

Accepting a gimmie is easy. Before your conscience sets in, quickly pick up your ball and slink off the green like a shoplifter exiting a convenience store. 

On the other hand, conceding a putt is more complicated than judging figure skating. Is the golfer worthy? Is the ball within the so called circle of friendship or just a distant cousin? What is a reasonable distance? An arms-length? A size 12 golf shoe? The height of your average circus midget?  There is no definitive rule. It is an art.

Some guys are generous and hand out gimmies like after dinner mints, sometimes even before the lag putt has stopped rolling. I love these guys. They are the Mother Theresa’s of golf.   

The other mothers of golf are the players who would rather donate a kidney than concede a putt. These are the guys who keep score in ink, who use a pocket calculator to split the lunch tab, and who believe a gimmie is an assault on the integrity of the game. Keep in mind, this is a game typically played by hackers in baggy shorts who have already taken two mulligans and several foot wedges just to survive the front nine. What integrity? 

So, if you struggle with administering a gimmie, here are some helpful guidelines:

Daylight Savings Time

The foursome waiting in the fairway has been watching your group blast from one greenside bunker to another, chunk chips, plumb bob, and debate who putts next. This is more frustrating than waiting for a senior citizen to back out of a parking space at Walmart or watching Joe Biden trying to complete a sentence. Just grab your balls and get off the green. All putts are good.

Code Blue

Your playing partner is on life support. He has landed in every bunker, splashed in every pond, and bounced off more trees than a squirrel on crack. You cannot bear to see him take another stroke. It is your civic duty to stop the bleeding and administer the Kevorkian gimmie. No range limitations in this case. If his ball is closer to the hole than to Akron Ohio, it’s good. Knock it away before he tries to hit it again.

Nothing at Stake

Pros putt out because they are playing for big money, coveted trophies, and trophy wives. For the average golfer, missing or making a short putt is more meaningless than a cup of decaf coffee or a political campaign promise. Give him the putt. There is no good reason not to.

Reward

The guy has stroked a winding 125 foot putt from just off the green to within three feet of the hole. Reward him. Let him pick it up. He earned it. It is better than watching him lip out, melt down, and try to disembowel himself with his putter. 

Human Kindness

Your buddy helps you tune up your car, mows your lawn when you are on vacation, and laughs at all your dumbass jokes. You owe him that testy three footer as a gesture of friendship. It is golf’s version of sending a fruit basket. 

No Mercy

If you are embroiled in a highly competitive match and your opponent has been talking smack, there is no such thing as a gimmie. Make him putt every putt. It’s Cobra Kai time, it’s time to sweep the knee.

Retribution

If the player is an obnoxious blowhard, an arrogant know-it-all, a despicable cheat, or a relative of Governor Cuomo, there are no gimmies. The circle of friendship only extends to the rim of the cup. 

Gimmies have been prevalent throughout history and occur every day of our lives. The Ruler of Greece once told famed sculptor, Calamitous, that his Venus di Milo statue was so beautiful there was no need to finish the arms. True. A gimmie is when a traffic cop pulls you over and only gives you a warning or when the grocery store clerk honors your expired coupon without price checking your Adult Depends over the store microphone. 

However, let the record show that not all gimmies are desirable. Last night, in the middle of a rare but passionate love making session, just as I was about to enter the launch cycle, just as I was pondering the proverbial question, just as I was about to ecstatically self-proclaim “you da man”, my wife stopped me and said, “That’s good, dear, pick it up.”

So, remember, if someone does not graciously accept a gimmie, do not be offended. Understand that sometimes in the game of golf and in life, to derive a full sense of satisfaction, a man needs to hear the rattle of the ball at the bottom of the cup. Sometimes, you just need to putt out.

Two older women were outside their nursing home, having a smoke, when it started to rain.

One of the ladies pulled out a condom, cut off the end, put it over her cigarette, and continued smoking.

First Lady: What’s that?

Second Lady: A condom. This way my cigarette doesn’t get wet.

First Lady: Where did you get it?

Second Lady: You can get them at any drugstore.

The next day, Lady 1 hobbles herself into the local drugstore and announces to the pharmacist that she wants a box of condoms.

The guy, obviously embarrassed, looks at her strangely (she is, after all, over 80 years old), but very delicately asks what brand she prefers.

Doesn’t matter son, as long as it fits a Camel.

The room was full of pregnant women with their husbands. The instructor said, “Ladies, remember that exercise is good for you. Walking is especially beneficial. It strengthens the pelvic muscles and will make delivery that much easier. Just pace yourself, make plenty of stops and try to stay on a soft surface like grass or a path.”

“Gentlemen, remember — you’re in this together. It wouldn’t hurt you to go walking with her. In fact, that shared experience would be good for you both.”

The room suddenly became very quiet as the men absorbed this information.

After a few moments a man, name unknown, at the back of the room, slowly raised his hand.

“Yes?” said the Instructor.

“I was just wondering if it would be all right if she carries a golf bag while we walk?”

Brings a tear to your eye doesn’t it? This kind of sensitivity just can’t be taught.

The only way to pull off a Sunday afternoon “quickie” with their 8-year-old son in the apartment was to send him out on the balcony with a Popsicle and tell him to report on all the neighborhood activities.

“There’s a car being towed from the parking lot,” he shouted. He began his commentary as his parents put their plan into operation:

“An ambulance just drove by!”

“Looks like the Andersons have company,” he called out.

“Matt’s riding a new bike!”

“Looks like the Sanders are moving!”

“Jason is on his skate board!”

After a few moments he announced, “The Coopers are having sex!!”

Startled, his mother and dad shot up in bed. Dad cautiously called out, “How do you know they’re having sex?”

“Jimmy Cooper is standing out on his balcony with a Popsicle.”

Quickie #1 One day, Bob came got home from work, and was greeted at the door by his wife who was dressed in a very sexy nightie. “Tie me up,” she purred, “and you can do anything you want.” So he tied her up, and went fishing.

Quickie #2 A woman came home, screeching! her car into the driveway, and ran into the house. She slammed the door, and shouted at the top of her lungs, “Honey, pack your bags. I won the lottery!” The husband said, “Oh, my God! What should I pack, beach stuff or mountain stuff?” “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Just get out.”

Quickie # 3 Marriage is a relationship in which one person is always right, and the other person is a husband.

Quickie #4 A recent Polish immigrant went to the DMV to apply for a driver’s license. First, of course, he had to take an eye test. The optician showed him a card with the letters: ‘C Z W I X N O S T A Z.’ “Can you read this?” the optician asked. “Read it?” the Polish guy replied. “I know the guy.”

Quickie #5 Mother Superior called all the nuns together and said to them, “I must tell you all something. We have a case of gonorrhea in the convent.” “Thank God,” said an elderly nun at the back of the room. “I’m so tired of chardonnay.”

Quickie #6 A wife was making a breakfast of fried eggs for her husband. Suddenly, her husband burst into the kitchen. “Careful,” he said, “CAREFUL! Put in some more butter! Oh my GOD! You’re cooking too many at once. TOO MANY! Turn them! TURN THEM NOW! We need more butter. Oh my GOD! WHERE are we going to get MORE BUTTER? They’re going to STICK! Careful…CAREFUL! Oh, I said be CAREFUL! You NEVER listen to me when you’re cooking! Never! Turn them! Hurry up! Are you CRAZY? Have you LOST your mind? Don’t forget to salt them. You know you always forget to salt them. Use the salt. USE THE SALT! THE SALT!!! THE SALT!!!” The wife stared at him. “What in the world is wrong with you? You think I don’t know how to fry a couple of eggs?” The husband calmly replied, “I wanted to show you what it feels like when I’m driving.”

Quickie #7 Fifty years ago, Fred , a Michigan mountain man, was drafted by the Army. On his first day in basic training, the Army issued him a comb. That afternoon, the Army barber sheared off all his hair. On his second day, the Army issued Herman a toothbrush. That afternoon the Army dentist yanked seven of his teeth. On the third day, the Army issued him a jock strap. The Army has been looking for Fred ever since.