My psychiatrist prescribed a game of golf as an antidote to the feelings of euphoria I experience from time to time.
I'll always remember the day I broke ninety. I had a few beers in the clubhouse and was so excited I forgot to play the back nine.
In Minnesota it's so cold some nights you have to wear two condoms.
You always nag the one you love
The only thing in my bag that works is the bug spray.
What's the point of washing off your ball when teeing off on a water hole?