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The Pope had just finished a tour of the Napa Valley and
was taking a limousine to San Francisco. Having never
driven a limo, he asks the chauffeur if he can drive for a
while. Well, the chauffeur doesn't have much of a choice,
so he climbs in the back of the limo and the Pope takes
the wheel.
The Pope proceeds down Silverado, and starts accelerating
to see what the limo can do. He gets to about 90 mph, and
suddenly he sees the red & blue lights of a CHiP in his
mirror. He pulls over and the trooper comes to his window.
The trooper, seeing who it is, says, "Just a moment please,
I need to call in."
The trooper calls in and asks for the chief. He tells the chief
that he's got a REALLY important person pulled over, and
asks how to handle it.
"Is it the Governor?"
"No! Even more important!"
"Is it the PRESIDENT???"
"No sir! Even *more* important!"
"Well WHO THE HECK is it?" screams the chief.
"I don't know sir," replies the trooper, "but he's got the Pope
as his chauffeur."
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"The Pope, Jerry Falwell and Jimmy Swaggart were out fishing in a boat.
The Pope ran out of
bait, so he said: "I'm going for worms.' He stepped out of the boat,
walked across the water, went
up on shore, dug some worms, and came back into the boat, again walking on
the water. A little
later, Jerry Falwell did the same thing.
Swaggart was watching this all in absolute wordless amazement. Finally, he
told himself that since
he was the "man of faith and power", he must be able to walk on water,
too. So, he screwed up
his faith, and stepped out of the boat. Blooooop! Went right under. Came
up sputtering to the
laughter of Falwell and the Pope. Finally Jerry said: 'If you want to walk
on the water, you have to
know where the rocks are!'"
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A man who smelled like a distillery flopped 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.
The bum opened his newspaper and began reading. After a few minutes the
disheveled guy turned to the priest and asked, "Say, Father, what causes
arthritis?"
"Mister," begins the obviously agitated priest, "it's caused by loose
living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol and a contempt for
your fellow man."
"Well I'll be damned," the drunk muttered, returning to his paper.A few
minutes passed by and 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," said the bum. "I was just reading here that the
Pope does.
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