Michael was an extremely avid golfer with a cynical attitude and arrogance,
that when he passed away, few people shed a tear. Michael approached the
Pearly Gates where St. Peter was waiting for him. Rather than pass through
the gates as normal people had done, Michael stopped to ask a question.
"Before I agree to come in, I want to know exactly what kind of golf course
you have here," he said to St. Peter.
"That shouldn't matter to you." said St. Peter.
"But it does". And then in his arrogant manner exclaimed,
"Well if I can't see it, then I'm not coming in!"
"Very well, Michael. As you wish...look through the gates."
He looked and saw the poorest, most rundown, excuse for a golf course that
it made him sick to his stomach.
"Forget it! There is no way I'm going to spend eternity playing on that
course."
Just then, Michael heard the devil calling him over the gate.
"Come over here and see what I have to offer."
Michael peers through the gate and he is elated. There is the most
absolutely fabulous golf course he has ever seen. He turns to the devil and
says, "Yeah, I want to play that course!"
"Ok. Step on through and it's yours forever."
St. Peter pleaded with Michael as he headed off with the Devil and the gates
closed behind him. Michael walked up to the first tee and said, "I can't
wait to play! Where are my clubs and ball?
The devil roared with laughter. "Oh that. There aren't any."
++++++++++++++++++
Because of a shortage of maids, the minister's wife advertised for a
manservant. The next morning a nicely dressed young man came to the front
door. "Can you start the breakfast by seven o'clock?" asked the minister.
"I guess so," answered the man.
"Can you polish all the silver, wash all the dishes, do the laundry, take
care of the lawn, wash windows, iron clothes and keep the house neat and
tidy?"
"Say, preacher," said the young fellow rather meekly, "I came here to see
about getting married but if it's going to be as much work as all that, you
can count me out right now."
++++++++++++++++++
Too many people offer God prayers with claw marks all over them.
++++++++++++++++++
A man with a nagging secret couldn't keep it any longer. In the confessional he admitted that for years he had been stealing building supplies from the lumberyard where he worked.
"What did you take?" his priest asked.
"Enough to build my own house and enough for my son's house. And houses for our two daughters and our cottage at the lake."
"This is very serious," the priest said. "I shall have to think of a far-reaching penance. Have you ever done a retreat?"
"No, Father, I haven't," the man replied. "But if you can get the plans, I can get the lumber."
++++++++++++++++++
MINNESOTA UFFDAH THERPY
My Brother, Dan, went to a psychiatrist. I've got problems. Every time I go to bed I think there's somebody under it. I’m scared. I Think I'm going crazy. "
"Just put yourself in my hands for one year," said the shrink. "Come talk to me three times a week, and we should be able to get rid of those fears."
"How much do you charge?"
"Eighty dollars per visit, replied the doctor."
"I'll sleep on it," said Dan.
Six months later the doctor met Dan on the street. "Why didn't you ever come to see about those fears you were having?" asked the psychiatrist.
"Well eighty bucks a visit three times a week for a year is an awful lot of money! A bartender cured me for $10. I was so happy to have saved all that money I went and bought me a new sweaty-Betty pick-um-up truck!"
"Is that so! And how, may I ask, did a bartender cure you?"
++++++++++++++++++
The chairman of the board of our company called me into his office to tell me the good news. I was being promoted to Vice President of Corporate Research and Planning. Of course, I was excited, but that didn't stop me from asking for my new title to be changed to Vice President of Corporate Planning and Research.
"Why?" asked the chairman.
"Because," I said, "our organization uses abbreviated job titles, and I don't want be known as VP of CRAP."
++++++++++++++++++
Tree Problem
Last October my wife bought a magnolia tree from the local nursery,
but after only a few weeks the leaves shriveled. It appeared to be on
its last legs. My wife took some leaf samples and marched into the
nursery to demand an explanation.
"I know exactly what's wrong with your magnolia," said the manager.
"Good," said my wife. "What's it suffering from?"
"Autumn," he replied.