Array ( [sid] => 115621 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => A bad day for golf [time] => 2006-03-01 09:39:51 [hometext] => This is a fictional poem [bodytext] => I used to play golf because it was my favorite game.
But after playing on a course in Nashville, things would never again be the same.
I played against a doctor who was tall and lean.
When he loses, he gets pretty mean.
The first hole we played was a Par 4.
My eagle beat his birdie and he was pretty sore.
On the next hole I got a birdie and he got a par.
He hit me in the head with his club and you can still see my scar.
After playing all eighteen holes, I won.
My opponent got so mad, he pulled out a gun.
I was scared until I saw that the gun only shot BB's.
I laughed and said that his BB gun couldn't possibly hurt me.
He pulled the trigger and put a small hole in my wiener.
It hurt like hell but he wasn't done. He got even meaner.
He went to my car and siphoned out all of my gas.
Then he took one of his clubs and shoved it up my ***.
I was furious so I broke his nose with my fist.
A few hours later I had the club removed by a proctologist.
If you're planning on playing golf, I have a bit of news.
Never play against someone who has a short fuse. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 661 [topic] => 7 [informant] => randyjohnson [notes] => Edited due to the use of an innappropriate word. Please remember this is a family site and children may be reading. - Moderator_16 [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - A bad day for golf


A bad day for golf
Date: Wednesday, 1st March 2006 @ 09:39:51 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: randyjohnson
I used to play golf because it was my favorite game.
But after playing on a course in Nashville, things would never again be the same.
I played against a doctor who was tall and lean.
When he loses, he gets pretty mean.
The first hole we played was a Par 4.
My eagle beat his birdie and he was pretty sore.
On the next hole I got a birdie and he got a par.
He hit me in the head with his club and you can still see my scar.
After playing all eighteen holes, I won.
My opponent got so mad, he pulled out a gun.
I was scared until I saw that the gun only shot BB's.
I laughed and said that his BB gun couldn't possibly hurt me.
He pulled the trigger and put a small hole in my wiener.
It hurt like hell but he wasn't done. He got even meaner.
He went to my car and siphoned out all of my gas.
Then he took one of his clubs and shoved it up my ***.
I was furious so I broke his nose with my fist.
A few hours later I had the club removed by a proctologist.
If you're planning on playing golf, I have a bit of news.
Never play against someone who has a short fuse.

This poem is Copyright © randyjohnson


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