Moses, Jesus and an old man are golfing. Moses steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the fairway and lands in the water trap. Moses parts the water and chips the ball onto the green.

Jesus steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the fairway and lands in the water trap. Jesus just walks on the water and chips the ball onto the green.

The old man steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the fairway and heads for the water trap. But, just before it falls into the water, a fish jumps up and grabs the ball in its mouth. As the fish is falling back down into the water, an eagle swoops down and grabs the fish in its claws. The eagle flies over the green where a lightning bolt shoots from the sky and barely misses it. Startled, the eagle drops the fish. When the fish hits the ground, the ball pops out of its mouth and rolls into the hole for a hole-in-one.

Jesus then turns to the old man and says, “Dad, if you don’t stop fooling around, we won’t bring you next time.”

Hunter Shot to Death By a Fox, Belgrade, Associated Press

A fox shot and killed a 38-year-old hunter in central Yugoslavia, the official Yugoslav news agency Tanjug reported yesterday.

Salih Hajdur, a farmer from the village of Gornje Hrasno in the Republic of Bosnia-Hercegovina, went to a nearby forest Sunday to shoot a fox, Tanjug said.

Hajdur wounded a fox in the leg, the agency said, but to spare the skin he did not fire again. Instead, he hit the animal with his refle butt. The struggling animal triggered a shot that hit Hajdur in the chest and killed him instantly, Tanjug said. The fox died later, Tanjug added.

A girl came skipping home from school one day. “Mommy, Mommy,” she yelled, “we were counting today, and all the other kids could only count to four, but I counted to 10. See? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,7, 8, 9, 10!”

“Very good,” said her mother.

“Is it because I’m blonde, Mommy?”

“Yes, Honey, it’s because you’re blonde.”

The next day the girl came skipping home from school. “Mommy, Mommy,” She yelled, “we were saying the alphabet today, and all the other kids could only say it to D, but I said it to G. See? A,b, c, d, e, f, g!”

“Very good,” said her mother.

“Is it because I’m blonde, Mommy?”

“Yes, Honey, it’s because you’re blonde.”

The next day the girl came skipping home from school. “Mommy, Mommy,” she yelled, “we were in gym class today, and when we showered, all the other girls had flat chests, but I have these!” And she lifted her tank top to reveal a pair of 36Cs.

“Very good,” said her embarrassed mother.

“Is it because I’m blonde, mommy?”

“No, Honey, it’s because you’re 25.”

Generally, this will not be a concern until you are promoted to an executive position. But once you’ve created the illusion that you serve even the slightest purpose at your place of “business,” there’s no telling how far you’ll go. In the real working world, productivity is all a matter of appearances.

Appearance: You are furiously taking notes while conducting an important telephone marketing survey.

Reality: You are pretending to take notes while talking to your friend who has called collect from Bulgaria.

Appearance: You are on the phone with a client in New York and you have said, “Yes sirree! That stock is about to shoot through the roof, now’s a great time to buy, I tell ya!”

Reality: You are on the phone with a friend in Guam and you have said, “Yeah, this job is terrible, and my boss is such a pushy whining… Yes sirree! That stock is about to shoot through the roof, now’s a great time to buy, I tell ya!”

Appearance: You are at your computer writing a serious business memorandum to your department supervisior.

Reality: You are at your computer telling dead-baby jokes to your e-mail correspondent in Namibia.

Appearance: You are urgently plugging numbers into a complicated spreadsheet.

Reality: You are playing Tetris.

Appearance: You are tapping away on calculator keys, helping out the accounting department.

Reality: You are paying your electric bill.

Appearance: You are reading the DOS manual.

Reality: You are reading the TV guide you placed in the DOS manual.

Appearance: You are staring at an empty computer screen, absorbed in deep thought.

Reality: You have pressed “Escape” just in time, erasing a MacDraw portrait entitled “Supervisor with Pitchfork Wound Clinging to a Cliff”

A man playing on a new golf course got confused as to what hole he was on. He saw a lady playing ahead of him. He walked up to her and asked if she knew what hole he was playing. She replied, “I’m on the 7th hole, and you’re a hole behind me, so you must be on the 6th hole.” He thanked her and went back to his golf.

On the back nine, the same thing happened, and he approached the lady again with the same request. She said, “I’m on the 14th, you are a hole behind me, so you must be on the 13th.” Once again he thanked her.

He finished his round and went into the club house and saw the lady sitting at the end of the bar. He went up to her and said, “Let me buy you a drink to show my appreciation for your help.” He started a conversation and asked her what kind of work she did. She said she was in sales, and he said he was in sales also. He asked what she sold.

She replied, “If I told you, you would only laugh.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he said.

She said, “I sell tampons.”

With that he fell on the floor laughing so hard.

She said, “See, I knew you would laugh.”

“That’s not what I’m laughing at,” he replied. “I’m a toilet paper salesman, so I’m STILL one hole behind you!”