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March 14, 2007

Blasphemy

A nun walks into Mother Superior’s office and plunks down 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 freaking (sorry I had to clean this word up) putt, didn’t you?”

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