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In deepest southern Ireland, a golfer drives off at the fifth, only to see his ball veer off to the left and land deep in the rough.
After a few minutes he finds his ball, but amazingly, there is a little leprechaun, with a huge bump on his head, lying beside it! Overcome, the golfer picks up the little feller, and bathes his bump, and is relieved that after a few minutes the leprechaun comes round, albeit somewhat groggy. And somewhat cross.
Says the leprechaun "I suppose that now you've found me, you'll be wanting your three wishes?"
"Oh, no", says the golfer, "I'm so pleased you came round, that is reward enough! I couldn't want for anything more!" And having ascertained that the little feller was just about OK, the golfer played out of the rough, and continued with his round.
The leprechaun was so amazed that he had not been asked to grant 3 wishes, that he decided to grant the golfer the three he, the leprechaun, would have wished for, had the circumstances been reversed. First, that all his drives would be straight down the fairway, secondly, that he would not want for money, and thirdly that he would have all the sex he could handle.
A few weeks later, the same golfer was playing at the same course. At the fifth, his drive was over 300 yards, straight down the middle of the fairway. But he was surprised to find that when he reached his ball, there was the leprechaun, waiting for him, beaming from ear to ear!
"How's your golf?" he said.
"Well, it's marvelous! I seem to hit every drive straight down the middle of the fairway!" said the golfer.
"And how's the finances?"
"Well, I can't account for it, but every time I put my hand in my pocket, I seem to find another roll of Euro notes!"
The golfer is overcome with embarrassment, goes bright red, and stammers... "w-well, I manage it maybe 3 or 4 times a week"
"Only 3 or 4 times a week!" cries the leprechaun, "I wished for you all the sex you could manage! What's going wrong?"
"Well," said the golfer