Why Men don't play golf with their wives

The husband reluctantly agreed to play in the couples alternate shot tournament at his club. He teed off on the first hole, a par four, and blistered a drive 300 yards down the middle of the fairway.

Upon reaching the ball, the husband said to his wife, "Just hit it toward the green, anywhere around there will be fine."

The wife proceeded to shank the ball deep into the woods.

Undaunted, the husband said "That's ok sweetheart." He then spent the next ten minutes looking for the ball. He finally found it, but in a horrible position. He played the shot of his life, and got the ball within two feet of the hole!

"Just tap it in now, honey." he said to his wife.

She then proceeded to knock the ball past the hole, off the green, and into a bunker!

Still maintaining his composure, the husband summoned all of his skill and holed the shot from the bunker ! He retrieved the ball and, while walking off the green, put his arm around his wife and said, very calmly, "Honey, that was a bogey five, and that's OK, but I think we can do better on the next hole."

To which she replied, " Listen asshole, don't bitch at me, only 2 of those 5 shots were mine ! " 

The good, the bad, and the VERY ugly!

So two weeks ago we had our RICC fall member member.

The good. Craig Fisher and myself played seven 9 hole rounds in 2 1/2 days and we won our division. Further exciting was that I won a Titelist 3w during a raffle the first night, I won a single net skin with a chip on 15 for a 3 for 2, I won money for our division, and more money for para mutual bet on  myself and two other friends.

Now the bad. The last 2 holes I had a mental breakdown... pumping ball after ball out of bounds, and crawling to the finished line.  Craig's shoulders were strong!

Now the ugly.  We came back to the club house to watch the scores get posted with a big ass Guinness.  I was still in comatose mental state. After three long days of golf I just wanted to go home.  I thanked Craig (never actually said good bye), collected my winnings, jumped in my car, and scooted home as fast as I possible could. About 5 minutes after arriving home, lying in peace on my bed, the phone rings.  Its Craig,   "David, where are you? You picked my up this morning.... remember?"

What a total douche bag move!

We are still friends...