> > 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.
> >
> > He 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, 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.
> >
> > 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."
> m