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Golf & religion a heavenly mix of jokes


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St Francis

Back at the nineteenth, in a vile mood, he delivered his bitter tale of woe.

"Nothing could stop me winning. I had a putt of about eleven inches, hardly more than a tap-in, to clinch it. The green was dead flat, perfectly true, a real billiard table. Not a breath of wind.

"My ball was heading for the cup, on rails. Then a raven swooped down, snatched it up, and circled the flag stick, twice. The raven then passed the ball to a vulture, which flapped over to Paradise Brook, opened its talons and .........splash. End of story."

St. Peter sighed deeply and vowed, "Last time I play St.Francis of Assisi."


 






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