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"A d*unk man who smelled like beer sat down on a subway seat next to a priest. The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half empty bottle of gin 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?" "My Son, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol, a contempt for your fellow man, sleeping around with prostitutes and lack of bath." "Well, I'll be damned," the d*unk muttered, returning 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?" "I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does." " This made me laugh out loud proper ![]() ![]() ![]() | |||
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