A
man flops down on a subway seat next to a priest. The man's tie is
stained, his face is smeared with red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle
of gin is sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opens a newspaper
and begins reading.
After a few minutes the guy turns to the priest and asks, 'Say, Father, what causes arthritis?'
'Loose
living; cheap, wicked woman; too much alcohol; and contempt for your
fellow man,' answers the priest.' I'll be damned, ' the drunk mutters,
returning to his paper.
The priest, thinking about what he said, nudges the man and apologises:
' I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. How long have you had arthritis?'
'Oh, I don't have it, Father. But it says here that the Pope does.'
