A golfer arrives in heaven. St Peter meets him at the gate. “We usually don’t get golfers here you know, they swear too much,” he says to the golfer.
“I’ve only ever used foul language once, Sir,” the golfer replies.
“Tell me about it,” St. Peter says.
“Well, I hit my tee shot badly. It hooked deep into the woods.”
“And that’s when you swore?” St. Peter asks.
“No, the ball hit a tree and bounced out towards the center of the fairway but it ended up in the fairway trap.”
“And that’s when you swore?” St. Peter asks again.
“No, I hit a great sand shot, but it caught a branch and fell twenty yards short of the green.”
“And then you swore?” St. Peter asks impatiently.
“No, I chipped it and it stopped 6 inches from the cup.”
To this St. Peter exclaims, “Don’t tell me you missed the fuckin’ six-inch putt.”