A man smelling of booze and cigarettes sat down on a subway next to a priest.
His tie was stained, there was red lipstick on his collar and face 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, "Tell me Father, do you happen to know what causes arthritis?"
...
The priest replies, "My son, it's caused by loose living, consorting 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 apologised. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strong.
How long have you had arthritis?"
The man answered, "I don't have it, Father.
I was just reading here that the Pope suffers from it."
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Possum; AKA:- Ali El-Aziz Mohamed Gundawiathan
Sent from my imperial66 typewriter using carrier pigeon, message sticks and smoke signals.
