Golf joke....

One Sunday morning, the Monsignor wanted to play a round of golf. After several hours of asking around the parish, he finally was able to get the Mother Superior to tag along as his caddy. The Monsignor is out on the 9th hole, makes a beautiful shot, but at the last minute, the ball takes a bad hop into the woods. The Monsignor cuts loose with a profane outburst, and the Mother Superior takes him to task for it, reminding the Monsignor that it's just a game, and that as a man of the cloth, he should be ashamed. Somewhat chastened, the Monsignor apologizes.

On the 13th hole, the Monsignor's drive carries the ball a good distance, but he didn't put enough hook into the shot to clear the sand trap, and there it lands. The Monsignor's face darkens with rage, and he again cuts loose with some pretty salty remarks. The Mother Superior is appalled, and solemnly warns the Monsignor that God will surely strike him dead for such blasphemous language. Regaining control of his temper, the Monsignor apologizes again for his language. The Mother Superior reluctantly agrees to finish out the course.

Well, on the 18th hole, the Monsignor makes his best shot of the day . . . in fact, it looks like this could be a hole-in-one . . . but the ball drops short and rolls a bit, coming to rest 6 inches from the pin. Not wanting to offend the Mother Superior, the Monsignor settles for mumbling "Oh, sh!t!" under his breath. And sure enough, the skies darken rapidly, and there's an ominous looking storm cloud that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. The Monsignor is shaking and trembling when a bolt of lightning comes from the sky and blows the Mother Superior to bits. As the cloud begins to dissipate, the Monsignor hears a voice saying "Oh, sh!t!"