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Spanglefish Gold Status Expired 08/05/2012.

Bowls Jokes & Stories

In this section we intend to provide jokes, cartoons, humorous stories, (true, false or apocryphal), and anything that will make you smile. We really need contributors for this so we will welcome any stories from members (or even about members) and guests Worldwide. Send them in by clicking on Feedback on the Navigation Bar.

Note: stories that are a wee bit risque are fine but remember that this is a family site.

This is one told by my friend bigbass6...

Rose and Barb
Two 90-year-old women, Rose and Barb had been friends all of their lives, and they especially liked a guy named Des. 
When it was clear that Rose was dying, Barb visited her every day. 
One day Barb said, 'Rose, we both loved lawnbowling all our lives, and we played all through  School. Please do me one favor: when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there's women's lawnbowling there. 
Rose looked up at Barb from her deathbed and said, 'Barb, you've been my best friend for many years. If it's at all possible, I'll do this favour for you.' 
Shortly after that, Rose passed on. 
A few nights later, Barb was awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to her, 'Barb, Barb.' 
'Who is it?', asked Barb, sitting up suddenly. 'Who is it?' 
'Barb -- it's me, Rose.' 
'You're not Rose. Rose just died.' 
'I'm telling you, it's me, Rose,' insisted the voice. 
'Rose! Where are you?' 
'In Heaven,' replied Rose. 'I have some really good news and a little bad news.' 
'Tell me the good news first,' said Barb. 
'The good news,' Rose said, 'is that there's lawnbowls in Heaven. Better yet all of our old buddies who died before us are here, too.. Better than that, we're all young again. Better still, it's always springtime, and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can bowl all all we want, and we never get tired.' 
'That's fantastic,' said Barb. 'It's beyond my wildest dreams! So what's the bad news?' 
'You have been picked to Skip next Tuesday.' 
Life is uncertain - eat dessert first.

Blessed are they who can play sport
Blessed are they who can still be taught
Blessed are they who accept with grace
To play in any selected place.

" If your Skip wants an opinion, He'll give it to you".

Up and down, walking walking,
Often measuring, sometimes chalking;
Shifting mats - keeping score,
thirty ends, maybe more;
Aching back - tired of limb,
Cheers for others, none for him,
Night draws on, darker, darker,
No one cares for he's the marker!

What do you do with someone who can't draw, can't roll the jack, can't set the mat, can't keep score and won't listen

Make them skip.

The “Hopie” Bowling Club


It micht be just a “but an’ ben”

Oor clubhoose is nae sae braw

But whit it lacks in luxury

In freenship it beats them a’


We’ve got quite a lot o’ members

A mixed lot, some may add

Wi’ experience on the one side

Though oor learners are nae sae bad!


We a’ git on weel the gither

O’ that there is nae doot

Nae mony fechts or squabbles

We jist pit the offenders oot!


Ye can be sure o’ guid cuppie

And oor price is really fair

Fir we’ve got oor regular clientel

That aye come back fir mair


Oor ladies are a dab hand

Bakin’ shorties an’ fairy cakes

They slave awa oo’r hot ovens

Jist fir oor members sakes


They run an annual coffee mornin’

An mony a raffle dae they sell

Fund raisin’ is their forte

An’ it maks the coffers swell


Hiv ye seen oor zimmers?

They’re the envy o’ a’ the toon!

Nae mair corns an callouses fir us

Kickin’ bools back up an doon!


Oor ladies handle them sae deftly

On the green they work a treat

They’re sae awfie licht an manageable

Sic a blessin’ fir oor feet



Mind ye, oor men are nae sae expert

Pushin the zimmers up an’ doon

But then, they nivver had tae

Push prams a’ roon’ the toon


We hiv quite a lot o’ competitions

An’ we a’ like tae tak part

Ye should see us in oor greys an’ whites

We a’ look sae really smart


There’s nithin’ like a game o’ bools

Tae keep ye young at heart an’ fit

An’ if sometimes we canna “get them up”

We dinna really mind a bit!


That’s when ye hear yer partner shout

Yer bool’s far ower “ticht”

An’ there’s you  usin’ a’ yer muscles

An’ tryin’ wi’ a’ yer micht


But it’s really a braw feelin’

When yer bool jist tak’s the jack

An’ ye get an’ “exy owy” on it

We a wee bit score o’ chalk


Some days ye get quite frustrated

When ye canna “catch the grass”

But at least yer in there tryin’

An’ no sittin’ on yer a*** (bum?)


It’s sad at the end o’ the season

When oor bools we store away

We thole the lang lang winter

Jist waitin’ fir the openin’ day


Then we a’ gither at the clubhouse

Greet oor auld friends, jist the same

Git oot the bools, the mats an jacks

Tae play oor favourite game


 Hopie Poem  ( from Olive Leven)



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