Madame President

The President of the United States, inadvertently briefed on the personal lives of her predecessors by the Secretary of State, discovered that most of her antecedents had played golf.

From her perspective, chasing a tiny ball around a manicured golf course was a socialist and probably pansy comedown from wasting a wild animal with an automatic weapon from Marine One, the Presidential helicopter.

Madame President nevertheless decided something had to be done because other world leaders declined politely to play with her, out of deference to the gravitas of her office. Plus, they didn't like her.

After six weeks of lessons--this was just prior to the invasion of Mexico--Madame President could still barely get the ball off the tee.

The Presidential pro, at the end of his tether and needing results badly or else, finally blurted: "Madame President, there's only one technique that I can think of that will improve your game beyond the level of excellence you have already achieved. But please, Madame President, no matter how strange my instructions may sound, if you follow this method I can guarantee even greater improvement."

"I want you to hold the club like your husband's penis and hit the ball. I hope you are not offended."

"No problem, Frank" replied Madame President, who subliminally realized her game was not exactly, as it were, up to par.

She followed the pro's instructions exactly and, lo and behold, the ball screamed straight and true 300 yards straight down the fairway.

Madame President was ecstatic.

"I knew it would work," said the pro. "That was awesome!"

He stared dumbstruck as the ball rolled to a stop, perfectly placed.

"Now let's try it taking the club out of your mouth."

.

Defeating Mouth From The Victory of Snatch

On the approach to the 18th hole, Mailer sliced the ball into the woods and finally found it in a patch of prodigious yellow buttercups.

Trying to get the ball back onto the fairway, he ended up thrashing just about every buttercup in the patch.

All of a sudden--POOF!!

In a flash and puff of smoke, a little old lady appeared.

She said: "I'm Mother Nature! Do you know how long it took me to design those buttercups? Just for doing what you have done, you won't have any butter for your popcorn for the rest of your life. Better yet, you also won't have any butter for your toast for the rest of your life. Come to think of it, you sonofabitch, you'll never have any butter on ANYTHING AT ALL for the rest of your goddamned life!!!"

Then POOF! She was gone!

After Mailer had recovered from the shock, he hollered to his friend: "Ed, where are you?"

Ed: "I'm over here!! In the pussy willows!!"

Mailer: "DON'T SWING, ED!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON'T SWING!!!"

First Do No Harm

Three medicos were playing golf on the most exclusive of all Hot Springs Village courses, discussing the apexes of their respective surgical careers.

The first said, "No doubt about it, I am the best fucking surgeon in Arkansas. In my favorite case, a concert pianist lost seven fingers in a cucumber slicing accident. I reattached them and eight months later he performed a private concert for the Queen of England."

The second surgeon immediately rejoined: "That's pathetic, you lummox. Why, in my practice I had a young man who lost an arm and both legs in an encounter with a wood chipper. I reattached them and two years later he won a gold medal in the 100 yard dash at the Olympics."

The third surgeon smiled then shook his head.

"You people are meshuggah, not to mention deluded and I'll tell you why. In my practice, quite a few years ago now, I had a woman who'd been so ripped on coke and hash that she rode her horse head-on into a train traveling 80 miles an hour."

"All I had left to work with," he continued, "was the woman's blonde hair and the horse's ass."

"You may find it difficult to believe--and I was sworn to secrecy by a couple of gorillas--but I was able to put them together."

"And now she's running for President."

This Sporting Life

The post ap- pearing below illuminates why the UN Security Council, Al-Fatah, the BBC, The National Socialist Party of Canada, the Lincoln Brigade, MADD, Kim Il Jung, the Committee to Re-elect Hillary, Jews for Jesus, NAACP, the European Community and Nelson Mandela have submitted a new petition to Hamas PLC™ demanding that Padraic O'Cossett, pictured above in rampant pre-incarceration mode, continue in custody a further eighteen (240) months without food, water or sildenafil citrate.

A young woman decided to learn to play the game of golf.

She'd just started playing her first round when she suffered a bee sting. The pain was so intense she had to run back to the clubhouse.

The golf pro saw her rushing through the door, running toward the locker room.

"Why are you back in so early? What's wrong?" inquired the old pro.

"I was stung by a bee", she moaned.

"Where?" he asked.

"Between the first and second hole," she replied.

The golf pro nodded knowingly.

"Your stance is too wide."

Wedding Bell Blues

Unbeknownst to his numerous hagiographers, Hugh Jorgen was a virgin until the summer of 1996 when he accidentally stumbled into the Kuala Lumpur branch of Supercuts. He emerged an hour later, a convert to Islam with a smile on his face that, today, most closely resembles the Commander-in-Chief's choked rictus during those psychoactively suspect episodes of mid-sentence oratorical chuckles.

Hugh and Fatima joyously celebrated their 23rd anniversary last August during a conjugal visit at the Gonzales, California branch of Al-anon.


A roué with gambling debts is out on the links where, out of the blue, he takes a near supersonic 3-wood shot right in the crotch.

Writhing in agony, he falls to the ground.

As soon as he can manage, he stumbles to the clubhouse parking lot and drives himself to the doctor’s office.

“How bad is it doc?” he inquires in near panic. "I'm going on my honeymoon next week and my fiancee is still a virgin—in every possible way."

“That’s rich. You were in here just last Christmas with another case of the Santo Domingo Drip.”

“Yeah, I know, Doc, but for chrissake keep it on the QT, if the missus-to-be hears about it, I’m history. She’s beautiful. And rich.”

“Hippocratic, schmippocratic," mumbles the medico. “I'll have to put your schwanz in a splint to let it heal and keep it straight. It should be okay by next week," advises the physician. "But you need to shape up, boychik."

“Sure, doc—anything you say.”

The doctor takes four tongue depressors and forms a neat four-sided splint completely surrounding the wounded appendage, taping it skillfully together. He stands back admiring his handiwork, then shakes his head, telling the patient to take off.

The groom-to-be mentions none of this to his girl. They marry the following week and jet off to Maui for the honeymoon.

That night in the motel room, she rips open her blouse to reveal breasts to make you kill for.

"You're the first!” she cries in total passion. “No one has EVER touched these."

He immediately drops his pants.

“And look at this treasure, my Bouboulina! Still in the CRATE!"

The Fairway Sex

For the record, our Left Coast Bureau Chief, Hugh Jorgen, would like it to be known he does not now nor has he ever played the game of golf. He has other things to do with his balls.

A man staggered into a hospital with a concussion, multiple bruises, two black eyes and a five iron wrapped tightly around his throat.

Naturally, the Emergency Room doctor asked him, "What happened to you?"

"Well, I was having a quiet round of golf with my wife when, at a difficult hole, we both sliced our balls into a cow pasture."

"We went to look for them and, while I was searching, I noticed one of the cows had something white in its, er, rear end."

"I walked over, lifted its tail, and sure enough, there was a golf ball with my wife's monogram on it--stuck right in the middle of the cow's butt!"

"Still holding the cow's tail up, I yelled to my wife: 'Hey, Marge! This looks just like yours!'"

"After that, it's pretty much blank--"

The Competition

A David Marvin Mailer Production. Gird your loins.


A man takes a week off and decides to play a round of golf every day.

First thing Monday he sets off on his first round and soon catches up to the person in front. He sees that this is a woman and as he gets closer to her on the Par 3, he sees that she is a stunner. He's interested and suggests that they play the rest of the round together.

She agrees and a very close match ensues. She turns out also to be a very talented golfer and she wins their little match on the last hole. He congratulates her in the car park then offers to give her a lift when he sees she doesn't have a car. All in all it's been a highly enjoyable morning.

On the way to her place, she thanks him for the morning's company and competition and says she hasn't enjoyed herself so much on the course for a long time. "In fact," she says, "I'd like you to pull over so I can show you how much I appreciate everything." He pulls over, they kiss and she ends up giving him a blow job.

The next morning he spies her at the first tee and suggests they play together again. He's actually quite competitive and somewhat peeved that she beat him the previous day. Again they have a magnificent day, enjoying each other's company and playing a tight round of golf. Again she pips him at the last and again he drives her home and once again she goes down on him in appreciation.

This goes on all week, with her beating him narrowly every day. This is a sore point for his male ego but nevertheless in the car home on Friday he tells her that he's had such a fine week that he has a surprise planned--dinner for two at a candle-lit restaurant followed by a night of passion in the penthouse apartment of a city hotel.

Surprisingly, she bursts into tears and says she can't agree to this. He can't work out what the fuss is about but eventually she admits the truth.

"You see," she says, "I'm a transvestite."

He is aghast. He swerves violently off the road, pulls the car to a screeching halt and curses madly, overcome with emotion.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs.

"You bastard!" he screams, his face crimson. "Goddamn you, you cheating fucking bastard! You've been playing off the ladies' tee all week!"

A Nun's Story

Sent in by Padraic O'Cossett. Bipolar and loving it.

A nun is sitting with her Mother Superior chatting, and confesses; "I used some horrible language this week and feel absolutely terrible about it."

"When did you use this awful language?" asks the elder.

"Well, I was golfing and hit an incredible drive that looked like it was going to sail over 250 yards, but it struck a phone line that was hanging over the fairway, and then fell straight down to the ground after going only about 100 yards."

"Is that when you swore?" asked Mother Superior.

"No, Mother," says the nun. "After that, a squirrel ran out of the bushes and grabbed my ball in its mouth, and began to run away."

"Is that when you swore?" asks the Mother Superior again.

"Well, no." says the nun. "You see, as the squirrel was running, an eagle came down out of the sky, grabbed the squirrel in his talons and began to fly away!"

"Is that when you swore?" asks the amazed elder nun.

"No, Mother. Oh no, not yet. As the eagle carried the squirrel away in its claws, it flew near the green and the squirrel dropped my ball."

"Did you swear then?" asked Mother Superior.

"Oh no, Mother. My ball fell on a big rock, bounced over the sand trap, rolled onto the green, and stopped about six inches from the hole."

The two nuns were silent for a moment.

Then Mother Superior sighed and sank back into her chair in total resignation: "You missed the fucking putt, didn't you?"

Personal Best

A man was at the country club for his weekly round of golf. He began his round with an eagle on the first hole and a birdie the second. On the third hole he had just scored his first ever hole-in -one when his cell phone rang. It was a doctor notifying him that his wife had just been in a terrible accident and was in critical condition and in the ICU.

The man told the doctor to inform his wife where he was and that the he'd be there as soon as possible. As he hung up he realized he was leaving what was shaping up to be his best ever round of golf. He decided to get in a couple of more holes before heading to the hospital. He ended up finishing all eighteen. He finished his round shooting a personal best 61 shattering the club record by five strokes and beating his previous best game by more than 10.

He was jubilant, then he remembered his wife. Feeling guilty he dashed to the hospital. He saw the doctor in the corridor and asked about his wife's condition. The doctor glared at him and shouted, "You went ahead and finished your round of golf didn't you! I hope you're proud of yourself! While you were out for the past four hours enjoying yourself at the country club your wife has been languishing in the ICU! Its just as well you went ahead and finished that round because it will be more than likely your last! For the rest of her life she will require 'round the clock care. And you'll be her care giver!"

The man was feeling so guilty he broke down and sobbed.

The doctor started to snicker and said, "Just kidding! She died more than two hours ago. What'd you shoot?"