Post by twomoons on Jul 18, 2013 13:51:38 GMT -5
A golfer playing in Ireland hooks a drive into the woods. Looking for his ball, he finds a little Leprechaun flat on his back, a big bump on his head, and the golfer's ball beside him.
Horrified, the golfer gets his water bottle from the cart and pours it over the little guy, reviving him.
“Arrgh! What happened?” the Leprechaun asks.
“I'm afraid I hit you with my golf ball,” the golfer replies.
“Oh, I see. Well, ye got me fair and square. Ye get three wishes, so whaddya want?”
“Thank God, you're all right!” the golfer answers in relief. “I don't want anything. I'm just glad you're okay, and I apologize.”
And the golfer walks off.
“What a nice guy,” the Leprechaun thinks. I have to do something for him. I'll give him the three things I would want . . . a great golf game, all the money he'll ever need, and a fantastic sex life.”
A year goes by and the golfer is back. On the same hole, he again hits a bad drive into the woods and the Leprechaun is there waiting for him.
“Twas me that made ye hit the ball here,” the little guy says. “I just want to ask ye, how's yer golf game?”
“My game is fantastic!” the golfer answers. “I'm an internationally famous golfer now.” He adds, “By the way, it's good to see you're all right.”
“Oh, I'm fine now, thankee. I did that fer yer golf game, you know. And tell me, how's yer money situation?”
“Why, it's just wonderful!” the golfer states. “When I need cash, I just reach in my pocket and pull out $100 bills I didn't even know were there!”
“I did that fer ye also,” the Leprechaun boasts. “And tell me, how's yer sex life?”
The golfer blushes, turns his head away in embarrassment, and says shyly, “It's okay.”
“C'mon, c'mon now,” urges the Leprechaun. “I'm wanting to know if I did a good job. How many times a week?”
Blushing even more, the golfer looks around then whispers, “Once, sometimes twice a week.”
“What?!?” responds the Leprechaun in shock. “That's all? Only once or twice a week?”
“Well,” says the golfer, “I figure that's not bad for a Catholic priest with no car in a small parish . . .”