One day Terry decided to retire…
He booked himself on a Mexican Riviera cruise and proceeded to have the time of his life, that is, until the ship sank.
He soon found himself on an island with no other people, no supplies, nothing, only bananas and coconuts.
After about four months, he is lying on the beach one day when the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen rows up to the shore.
In disbelief, he asks, “Where did you come from? How did you get here?”
She replies, “I rowed over from the other side of the island where I landed when my cruise ship sank.”
“Amazing,” he notes. “You were really lucky to have a row boat wash up with you.”
“Oh, this thing?” explains the woman. “I made the boat out of some raw material I found on the island.
The oars were whittled from gum tree branches. I wove the bottom from palm tree branches, and the sides and stern came from a Eucalyptus tree.”
“But, where did you get the tools?”
“Oh, that was no problem,” replied the woman. “On the south side of the island, a very unusual stratum of alluvial rock is exposed. I found that if I fired it to a certain temperature in my kiln, it melted into
ductile iron I used that to make tools and used the tools to make the hardware.”
Naturally our man is stunned beyond words.
“Let’s row over to my place,” she says. So, after a short time of rowing, she soon docks the boat at a small wharf.
As Terry looks to shore, he nearly falls off the boat. Before him is a long stone walk leading to a cabin and treehouse.
While the woman ties up the rowboat with an expertly woven hemp rope, he can only stare ahead, dumb struck. As they walk into the house, she says casually, “It’s not much, but I call it home. Sit down, please.”
“Would you like a drink?”
“No! No thank you,” Terry blurts out, still dazed. “I can’t take another drop of coconut juice.”
“It’s not coconut juice,” winks the woman. “I have a still. How would you like a Tropical Spritz?”
Trying to hide his continued amazement, his head spinning, he accepts, and they sit down on her couch to talk.
After they exchange their individual survival stories, the woman announces, “I’m going to slip into something more comfortable. Would you like to take a shower and shave? There’s a razor in the bathroom cabinet upstairs.”
No longer questioning anything, Terry goes upstairs into the bathroom. There, in the cabinet is a razor made from a piece of tortoise bone. Two shells honed to a hollow ground edge are fastened on to its end inside a swivel mechanism.
“This woman is amazing,” he says to himself. “What the hell could be next?”
When he returns, she greets him wearing nothing but some small flowers on tiny vines, each strategically positioned, she smelled faintly of gardenias.
She then beckons for him to sit down next to her.”Tell me,” she begins suggestively, slithering closer to him,
“We’ve both been out here for many months.You must have been lonely. There’s something I’m certain you feel like doing right now, something you’ve been longing for, right?” She stares into his eyes.
He can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You mean…” he swallows excitedly as tears start to form in his eyes,
“Holy Crap, you’ve built a Golf Course haven’t you?”
A nun walks into Mother Superior’s office and plunks down into a chair. She lets out a sigh heavy with frustration.
‘What troubles you, Sister?’ asked the Mother Superior. ‘I thought this was the day you spent with your family.’
‘It was,’ sighed the Sister. ‘And I went to play golf with my brother. We try to play golf as often as we can. You know I was quite a talented golfer before I devoted my life to Christ.’
‘I seem to recall that,’ the Mother Superior agreed. ‘So I take it your day of recreation was not relaxing?
Far from it, snorted the Sister. ‘In fact, I even took the Lord’s name in vain today!
‘Goodness, Sister!’ gasped the Mother Superior, astonished. ‘You must tell me all about it!
‘Well, we were on the fifth tee… and this hole is a monster, Mother – 540 yards, par 5 -with a nasty dogleg right and a hidden green… and I hit the drive of my life. I creamed it. The sweetest swing I ever made. And it was flying straight and true, right along the line I wanted… and it hit a bird in mid-flight.
‘Oh my!’ commiserated the Mother. ‘How unfortunate! But surely that didn’t make you blaspheme, Sister!’
To fathom what had happened, a squirrel ran out of the woods, grabbed my ball and ran off down the fairway!
‘Oh, that would have made me blaspheme!’ sympathized the Mother
‘But I didn’t, Mother!’ sobbed the Sister. ‘And I was so proud of myself! And while I was pondering whether this was a sign from God, a hawk swooped out of the sky, grabbed the squirrel and flew off, with my ball still clutched
in his paws!’
‘So that’s when you cursed,’ said the Mother with a knowing smile.
‘No, that wasn’t it either,’ cried the Sister, anguished, ‘because as the hawk started to fly out of sight, the squirrel started struggling, and the hawk dropped him right there on the green, and the ball popped out of his paws and rolled to about 18 inches from the cup!
Mother Superior sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest,fixed on the Sister with a baleful stare and said…
‘You missed the fucking putt, didn’t you?’