Golfer's Leprechaun (PG)
One fine day in Ireland, a guy is out golfing and gets up to the 16th hole. He tees up and cranks one. Unfortunately, it goes into the woods on the side of the fairway.
He goes looking for his ball and comes across this little guy with this huge knot on his head, and the golf ball lying right beside him. 'Goodness,' says the golfer, and proceeds to revive the poor little guy.
Upon awaking, the little guy says, 'Well, you caught me fair and square. I am a leprechaun. I will grant you three wishes.'
The man says, 'I can't take anything from you, I'm just glad I didn't hurt you too badly,' and walks away.
Watching the golfer depart, the leprechaun thinks, 'Well, he was a nice enough guy, and he did catch me, so I have to do something for him. I'll give him the three things that I would want. I'll give him unlimited money, a great golf game, and a great sex life.'
Well, a year goes past (as they often do in jokes like this) and the same golfer is out golfing on the same course at the 16th hole. He gets up and hits one into the same woods and goes off looking for his ball. When he finds the ball he sees the same little guy and asks how he is doing.
The leprechaun says, 'I'm fine, and might I ask how your golf game is?'
The golfer says, 'It's great! I hit under par every time.'
The leprechaun says, 'I did that for you. And might I ask how your money is holding out?'
The golfer says, 'Well, now that you mention it, every time I put my hand in my pocket, I pull out a ten pound note.'
The leprechaun smiles and says, 'I did that for you. And might I ask how your sex life is?'
The golfer looks at him a little shyly and says, 'Well, maybe once or twice a week.'
The leprechaun is floored and stammers, 'Once or twice a week?!'
The golfer, a little embarrassed, looks at him and says, 'Well, that's not too bad for a Catholic priest in a small parish.'
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begins with Interstate 80. Not the most engaging topic, I know, but when you think about it, I-80 runs all the way across the North American continent linking San Francisco and New York. It's not just a ribbon of asphalt, it's a portal to far away, almost magical places.
My visits to major cities like Tokyo, London and Washington DC have been business affairs. I haven't rode a lot of roller coasters or ridden in open air buses, but I have visited with senators, bought yams from the back of a truck and barely escaped complete embarrassment when I was introduced to Matt Wiener in Vegas.
As I wrote the book I realized that over the years exotic, distant places have become more like the mundane places I've called home. But, as it turns out, there really aren't any mundane places, only mundane ways of looking at things.
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