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A drunk man who smelled like whiskey sat down on a bench in a subway
station, next to a priest.
The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick,
and a half empty bottle of Jim Beam was sticking out of his torn coat
pocket.
He opened his newspaper and began reading. After a few minutes the
man turned to the priest and asked, 'Say Father, what causes
arthritis?'
The priest replies, 'My Son, it's caused by loose living, being with
cheap wicked women, too much alcohol, contempt for your fellow man,
sleeping around with prostitutes, and lack of a bath.'
The drunk muttered in response, 'Well, I'll be damned,' then returned
to his paper.
The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and
apologized.
'I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strong. How long have
you had arthritis?'
The drunk answered, 'I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here
that the Pope does.'
station, next to a priest.
The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick,
and a half empty bottle of Jim Beam was sticking out of his torn coat
pocket.
He opened his newspaper and began reading. After a few minutes the
man turned to the priest and asked, 'Say Father, what causes
arthritis?'
The priest replies, 'My Son, it's caused by loose living, being with
cheap wicked women, too much alcohol, contempt for your fellow man,
sleeping around with prostitutes, and lack of a bath.'
The drunk muttered in response, 'Well, I'll be damned,' then returned
to his paper.
The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and
apologized.
'I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strong. How long have
you had arthritis?'
The drunk answered, 'I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here
that the Pope does.'