At the local golf club, the pro was bragging how he could beat any one, even if he had to give strokes per hole, just after he opened his big mouth and old fellow said I will bet a free steak dinner at the restaurant here that I can beat you. The pro looked at the old fellow who had a beat up set of clubs in a beat up golf bag and said to him your on, how many strokes per hole do you want? The old fellow said none, but spot me three gotcha's, the pro said sure anything you say old man.
At the first hole, the pro out drove the old fellow by 50 yards, but the old fellow hit his second shot on the green about 8 to 10 feet from the hole, the pro hit his second shot on to the green about 12 to 14 feet away. So the old fellow pulled the pin as the pro began his putting ritual, so as the pro was getting ready to stroke the ball the old fellow came up behind him and grabbed his butt with both hands and squeezed hard and yelled in his ear gotcha. The pro proceeded to putt the ball past the hole by ten feet or so, the old fellow made his birdie putt and the pro could do no better than a bogey.
At each of the next 8 holes the pro was so shaken he could hardly stand still to putt the ball.
Back at the club house the folks gathered around the pro, all wanted to know how bad he beat the old fellow. The pro said to all with a bright red face he lost to the old fellow, when they asked why, he said he could not get his putting stroke back because he was shaking so much waiting for the next gotcha.
A young man went in to get his yearly check up, the Doctor gave him a good going over and sent him down for lab work and a few xrays as well. After he was done he went home. A few days later the doctors office called for him to come in again to run a few more tests, so he was sitting in the doctors office when the doctor came in, the doctor said I am afraid I have bad news, he continued with you have a very rare disease of which there is no known cure, I give you 4 to 6 months, I suggest you go and try to get all your affairs in order. So the young man being visibly shaken left and went home, he talked with his friends and family and asked if they could help him understand the meaning of life. Their reply was to seek help from his priest, so he went to see Father O'Reiley, as he explained what had happened he asked the Father what he thought might be the meaning of life? Father O'Reiley said he had no idea whatsoever, however perhaps you could consult with the Rabbi down the street he is a lot older and wiser. So he called the office of the Rabbi and explained his problem, they informed him that the Rabbi was in the Holy land doing research for a book. He is scheduled to be back in a month, if he would like they will set up an appointment ASAP. So he agreed.
After the Rabbi returned the young fellow was called to meet with him, after he explaind to he Rabbi about his illness, he asked the Rabbi what he thought the meaning of life was? The Rabbi had a blank look on his face and told the young fellow he could not advise him because he was not Jewish and that he should seek his answers elsewhere, perhaps he should try the Bishop or some one higher up like the Pope.
Now the young fellow was very upset, so he said to himself I do not have time to waste so I will see if I can contact the office of the Pope for an audience, after explaining his illness and what he has tried so far to do they told him that they can schedule him to see the Pope in a few weeks after he arrives in Italy. So he went home and sold all his things and bought a plane ticket to Italy to leave the next day.
After he arrived, he called the Pope's office and asked to schedule his appointment, so they told him the date which was a few weeks later than he thought, so to make a long story a little shorter the Pope blessed the young fellow but could offer no real guidance. He did however suggest that he go see the Dahli Lama in Tibet because he being much older would know the answer to the meaning of Life.
Now the young fellow was down to only 2 or 3 months prior to his end, so he got a flight out of Italy to Tibet and upon landing went straight to the mountain temple of the Dahli Lama, after hiring guides and spending 10 days climbing the mountain he finally arrived at the gate. The guards told him that he was unfit to see the Dahli Lama and that he would need to join the clan of priest prior to ever seening him. They told the young fellow it would take several years of various hardships, also they would need to shave his head and he must grow a beard, he sat and cried, then he told them he had about a month to live can they please help him, after talking it over they agreed to assisst him as much as possible and after three weeks of all types of hardships, he was granted an audience with the Dahli Lama.
So now picture the young fellow, clothes are tattered, no hair, long beard, skinny as a rail, only a few days of life to cling to, so he tell the Dahli Lama his situation, then he ask if the Dahli Lama can explain the meaning of life.
So the Dahli Lama gives him that have I got the answer for you look, he proceeds to say “That wet birds do not fly at night” The young fellow looks at him with a look that could kill and says to him that is your answer wet birds do not fly at night! The Dahli Lama looks back kind of puzzled and says you mean they do?
To all this is a time joke, meant to kill time, you can add or subtract as you wish, please do not blame me for this, I was told this one day while at a meeting waiting for the group leader to give his talk on computer systems work, which cost me a $125 a day.
