A drunk man who smelled like beer sat down on
the London Underground 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 and a contempt for your fellow man,
sleeping around with prostitutes and lack of bath."
"Well, I'll be
damned," the drunk 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".
