I was playing golf with my doctor friend one day. He ALWAYS hit his drives right down the middle of the fairway. My problem was that I ALWAYS hooked my ball completely off the fairway.
I asked him for help and he offered to give me a physical to see if he could determine the problem. Sure enough, he said that my penis was three times that of the average male, and that is what caused an anomaly in my swing which created my hook. I asked him to help me, and he agreed to do surgery -- provided that I didn't play golf for four weeks. I agreed because golf is just that important to me.
Four weeks later, new body and all, I teed off on the first hole and drove the ball 270 yards right down the middle. Feeling elated, I thanked the doctor. Then I asked him what had become of the "rest" of me. He just smiled, teed his ball, then hit it and watched it duck hook two fairways left.
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Three dead bodies turn up at the mortuary, all with very big smiles on their faces. The coroner calls the police to tell them what has happened.
"First body: Frenchman, 60, died of heart failure while making love to his mistress. Hence the enormous smile, Inspector," says the Coroner.
"Second body: Scotsman, 25, won a thousand pounds on the lottery, spent it all on whiskey. Died of alcohol poisoning, hence the smile."
The Inspector asked, "What of the third body?"
"Ah," says the coroner, "this is the most unusual one. Billy- Bob the redneck from Oklahoma, 30, struck by lightning."
"Why is he smiling then?" inquires the Inspector.
"Thought he was having his picture taken."
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