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A golfer is in Dublin, enjoying a round of golf on one of the
famous courses there. On the 16th hole he smacks the ball, the
wind takes it, and it heads into the woods. After about ten
minutes of looking he finds a leprechaun sitting on the ground
rubbing a knot on his head.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry," the man said.

But the leprechaun waved him off, "Don't ye worry, 'tis the
wind's fault."

"Well is there anything I can help you with?" the man asked.

"Naw. But since you were so kind to offer, I'm going to give you
three wishes of your choice."

The man laughed, "No, I couldn't take those. I gave you that
knot on the head. It was my fault and my duty to help you."

With that the man walked off and resumed playing.

The leprechaun hmmed, "Well, he certainly was a nice fellow. I'd
hate to see him go to all that trouble for nothing. I know what
I'll do; I'll give him the three wishes I would want--enough
money for the rest of his life, a great golf game, and great sex
for life."

The next year the same golfer is out, hitting around the course.
Again he comes to the 16th hole and smacks the ball, but the
wind takes it into the woods again. Once again he hunts down the
ball and finds the same leprechaun rubbing his head.

"Oh my, I'm sorry," said the man.

"Don't ye worry; 'tis the wind's fault. Say? Aren't you the same
lad who was here last year?"

The man nodded.

"Excellent . . . say . . . how's your financial situation?"

The man looked surprised. "Funny you should ask. Every time I
reach into my pocket I pull out a hundred dollar bill!"

The leprechaun smiled, "That's good . . . and your golf game?"

"Excellent! I've played every round under par this year!"

"Ah. . . 'tis a wonderful thing. And how's your sex life?"

"Well . . . great. I'm having sex at least one or two times a
week."

It was the leprechaun's time to look surprised. "Only one or two
times a week?"

"Well, for an Irish Catholic priest in a small parish, that's
pretty darn good!

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