Oilfield Trash, Part 2

If you’re not having fun, you’re doing it wrong.

Need Golf Jokes

Posted by Oil Field Trash on April 6th, 2006

I know some good golf, jokes but need more. Please flee free to tell one, click on comment.

8 Responses to “Need Golf Jokes”

  1. Oil Field Trash Says:

    Bob Hope told me this one, I like playing Golf with president Ford in Palm Springs (over 40 courses) because you never know what course you are playing on until he tees off.

  2. Archie Clement Says:

    Man goes to emergency room with 5 iron wrapped around his neck. Doctor asks what happened. Man said he was playing golf with his wife. Wife hit drive ob into a pasture with cows. Man jumped fence to retreive ball, noticed something white stuck in cow’s rear end. Man picks up cow’s tail and say’s “Here honey, this looks like yours!”"

  3. Oil Field Trash Says:

    Two gas company landmen where talking while playing golf, one says just shut up and putt I know you are lying!.. The other say’s yes but hear me out first.

  4. Janie Says:

    A rugged cowboy from Brokeback Mountain, Wyoming, goes into the doctor’s office and has some tests run. The doctor comes back and says, “I am not going to beat around the bush, You have AIDS.”

    The cowboy tugs at his Stetson and sets his jaw and says, “Doc, what can I do?”

    The doctor says, “I want you to go home and eat 5 pounds of spicy sausage, a head of cabbage, 20 un-peeled carrots drenched in hot sauce, 10 Jalapeno peppers, 40 walnuts and 40 peanuts, 1/2 box of Grapenuts cereal, and top it off with a gallon of prune juice.”

    The cowboy squares his rugged shoulders and asks, “Will that cure me, Doc?”

    “No, but it should leave you with a better understanding of what your butt is for.”

  5. Janie Says:

    Oops…you said GOLF jokes. Sorry!!

  6. Oil Field Trash Says:

    You know that Brokeback did not win a oscar for best picture but they did find out it’s ok to “Come in #2″

  7. TP Says:

    A woman goes to the local newspaper office to see that the obituary for her recently deceased husband is published.

    The obit editor informs her that there is a charge of 50 cents per word.

    She pauses, reflects, and then she says, well then, let it read “Fred Brown died.”

    Amused at the woman’s thrift, the editor tells her that there is a seven-word minimum for all obituaries.

    She thinks it over and in a few seconds says, “In that case, let it read, “Fred Brown died: golf clubs for sale.”

  8. Oil Field Trash Says:

    Did you know that Arnold Palmers wife for good luck would kiss his balls before each match.

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