|A drunk, who smelled of 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, "Tell me, Father, what causes arthritis?"
The priest replied, "My Son, it is caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol and a contempt for your fellow man, sleeping around with women and a lack of personal hygiene."
The drunk muttered in response, "Well, I'll be darned," and returned to his paper.
The priest, thinking about what he had said, put his hand gently on the man's arm and apologized. "I'm sorry. I should not have come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?"
"I don't have arthritis, Father," the drunk replied. "I was just reading here that the Pope does.
|I boarded the train and took my seat. The seat next to me was empty, but not for long. A young mother boarded with her 5-year- old daughter and Mom sat down in the seat beside me. I offered my seat to the little girl but Mom said no, she'd sit the young one on her lap. So here I am holding my roses, now with a little lady straining to see what I was holding.|
"What ya got, mister?" she asked.
(Mom is getting a bit flustered and tells her to mind her own business.)
I leaned the "package" over a bit and she looks and says loudly, "Ohhhh, ROSES!, who are they for?"
(Now, Mom is embarrassed and tapping her on the rear telling her to sit down.)
I said, "They're for my girlfriend."
She says again with a loud voice, "WOW, pretty RED ones, and a lot of them, too! Man, you really must have fucked up!"
Needless to say, nearly everyone on the train was in stitches, except Mom who was now trying to crawl between the seats!
|The following supposedly a true story.|
This guy walked into a little corner store with a shot gun and demanded all the cash from the cash drawer. After the cashier put the cash in a bag, the robber saw a bottle of scotch that he wanted behind the counter on the shelf.
He told the cashier to put it in the bag as well, but the cashier refused and said, "Because I don't believe you are over 21."
The robber said he was, but the clerk still refused to give the scotch to him because he didn't believe him. At this point the robber took his drivers license out of his wallet and gave it to the clerk.
The clerk looked it over, and agreed that the man was in fact over 21 and he put the scotch in the bag. The robber then ran from the store with his loot.
The cashier promptly called the police and gave the name and address of the robber that he got off of the license. They arrested the robber two hours later.
|It was a case of attempted murder, in which the prisoner was accused of having fired twice at his intended victim. One of the witnesses for the prosecution was being severely cross-examined by the defending counsel.|
"You say that you heard both shots fired?" he asked sternly.
"How near were you to the scene of the affair?"
"At the time the first shot was fired I was about twenty feet from the prisoner."
"Twenty feet. Humph! Now tell the court how far you were off when you heard the second shot."
"Well, sir," replied the witness slowly, "I didn't exactly measure the distance; but, speaking approximately, I should say about half a mile."