old age

Arthur, 90, is depressed. "That's it," he tells his wife, "I'm giving
up golf. My eyesight is so bad, I can't see where my ball goes."

She suggests, "Why not take my brother with you. He could use the
exercise."

"Your brother's 103 years old, for crying out loud He can't help"

"He may be 103," she retorts, "but his eyesight is perfect!"

So the next day, Arthur heads off to the golf course with his
brother-in-law. He tees up, slams the ball down the fairway, turns to
his brother-in-law and says, "Did you see the ball?"

"Of course I did!"

"Great. Where did it go?" asks Arthur.


"Buggared if I can remember now."