THE F-WORD
A man goes to confession and says, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The priest asks if he wants to confess his sins, and the man explains he used the “F-word” over the weekend.
The priest responds, “Oh, okay, just say three Hail Marys and try to watch your language.” But the man insists on explaining why he swore.
With a sigh, the priest tells him to continue.
“Well, Father, I played golf on Sunday with my buddies instead of going to church.”
The priest asks, “And you got upset over that?”
The man shakes his head and replies, “No, that wasn’t why I swore. On the first tee, I duck-hooked my drive way left into the trees.”
The priest says, “Ah, so that made you use the F-word.”
The man replies, “No, not yet. Then, when I went to hit my second shot, I hit a tree and the ball bounced back right between my feet.”
The priest, now understanding, says, “That must have been when you swore.”
“No, Father, not even then. But when a squirrel ran off with my ball, that’s when I lost it.”
