| 
				
				Making a Sister Balaspheme
			 
 A nun walks into Mother Superior's office and plunksdown into a chair. She lets out a sigh heavy with
 frustration.
 
 "What troubles you, Sister?" asks 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 yard Par 5, with a nasty dogleg
 left and a hidden green...and I hit the drive of my
 life. I creamed it. The sweetest swing I ever made.
 And it's flying straight and true, right along the
 line I wanted...and it hits a bird in mid-flight not
 100 yards off the tee!"
 
 "Oh my!" commiserated the Mother. "How unfortunate!
 But surely that didn't make you blaspheme, Sister!"
 
 "No, that wasn't it," admitted Sister. "While I was
 still trying to fathom what had happened, this
 squirrel runs out of the woods, grabs my ball and runs
 off down the fairway!"
 
 "Oh, that would have made me blaspheme!" sympathized
 Mother.
 
 "But I didn't, Mother Superior!" sobbed the Sister.
 "And I was so proud of myself! And while I was
 pondering whether this was a sign from God, this hawk
 swoops out of the sky and grabs the squirrel
 and flies off, with my ball still clutched in his paws!"
 
 "So that's when you cursed," said the Mother with a
 knowing smile.
 
 "Nope, 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 the Sister with a baleful
 stare and said...
 
 "You missed the *&^%ing putt, didn't you?"
 |