10 Husbands, Still a Virgin A lawyer married a woman who had previously divorced ten husbands. On their wedding night, she told her new husband, "Please be gentle, I'm still a virgin." "What?" said the puzzled groom. "How can that be if you've been married ten times?" "Well, Husband #1 was a sales representative; he kept telling me how great it was going to be. Husband #2 was in software services; he was never really sure how it was supposed to function, but he said he'd look into it and get back to me. Husband #3 was from field services; he said everything checked out diagnostically but he just couldn't get the system up. Husband #4 was in telemarketing; even though he knew he had the order, he didn't know when he would be able to deliver. Husband #5 was an engineer; he understood the basic process but wanted three years to research, implement, and design a new state-of-the-art method. Husband #6 was from finance and administration; he thought he knew how, but he wasn't sure whether it was his job or not. Husband #7 was in marketing; although he had a nice product, he was never sure how to position it. Husband #8 was a psychologist; all he ever did was talk about it. Husband #9 was a gynecologist; all he did was look at it. Husband #10 was a stamp collector; all he ever did was... God! I miss him! But now that I've married you, I'm really excited!" "Good," said the new husband, "but, why?" "You're a lawyer. This time I know I'm gonna get screwed!"
I apologize ahead of time if anyone takes offense. I usually don't post things that are too off beat, but I still laughing my tail off after reading this one! Bsulli Little Mary Margaret was not the best student in Catechism class, usually dozing off periodically all through the hour. One day her teacher, a Nun, called on her while she was napping. "Tell me Mary Margaret, who created the universe?" When Mary Margaret didn't stir, little Johnny, her friend who was sitting behind her, took a pin and jabbed her in the rear. "God Almighty!" shouted Mary Margaret as she awoke with a start. The Nun with a curious tone said, "Very good" and continued teaching her class. A little later the Nun directed another question to the girl, "Mary Margaret, Who is our Lord and Savior?" But she didn't stir from her slumber. Once again, little Johnny came to the rescue and stuck Mary Margaret in the butt. Mary sat up abruptly and shouted "Jesus Christ!" and the Nun once again said, "Very good," and in a few minutes Mary Margaret went back to her napping only to be disturbed a third time by a timely jab when the teacher asked, "Who was Mary?". Looking a bit perturbed Mary Margaret made a face and erupted with "Mother of God!" Looking totally surprised, the teacher managed to stammer "Yes, Yes! Very Good!" and continued with the lesson and Mary Margaret continued with her interrupted slumber. Wrapping up the session, the nun posed a final question to the class, "What did Eve say to Adam after she had her twenty- third child?" The room was silent and once more, Johnny took pin in hand and jabbed. This time Mary Margaret jumped up shaking her fist and shouted, "Enough is enough! If you stick that damn thing in me one more time, I'll break it in half and shove it up your ass!" The Nun fainted.
Mr. Bsulli - I just returned this evening from adult catechism class, and your story will be on the schedule next week!!
Not as good as Bsulli's, but, for post Vatican-2, not bad: An intoxicated man who smelled like 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, "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 darned...son of a gun" 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. .
Her husband has been slipping in and out of a coma for several months, yet his faithful wife stayed by his bedside every single day. When he came to, he motioned for her to come nearer. As she sat by him, he said, "You know what? You have been with me all through the bad times. "When I got fired, you were there to support me. When my business failed, you were there. When I got shot, you were by my side. When we lost the house, you gave me support. When my health started failing, you were still by my side. "You know what?" "What dear?", she asked gently. "I think you're bad luck."
"Hello, Rabbi Korkuff?" "Yes." "This is John Reilly, deputy director of the Manhattan branch of the Internal Revenue Service. I'm calling about a member of your congregation, Samuel J. Prischoff, who is in the real-estate business." "Y-yes?" Mr. Prischoff has claimed a five-thousand-dollar deduction on his tax return. He says he contributed that amount, in cash, to your temple. Did he?" "Mr. Reilly," said the rabbi, "if you call back tomorrow, the answer, I assure you--will be 'Yes.'"
Harry Abramovitz wanted to join the Greenvale Country Club, a club known never to have had a Jewish member. This deterred Harry not at all. First, he went to court and had his name changed from Harry Moses Abramovitz to Howard Trevelyan Frobisher. Then he flew to a plastic surgeon in Switzerland, who transformed his Semitic profile into a Nordic one. Then he hired a tutor from England to change his Hester Street [New York Jewish] accent to the mellifluous modality of Regent Street. Then Harry worked his way into the graces of several members of the Greenvale Country Club... Two years after launching upon his project, Howard Frobisher, né Harry Abramovitz, appeared before the membership committee. The chairman said, "Please state your name." In plummy Oxonian accents, Harry said, "Howard Trevelyan Frobisher." "And where were you educated, Mr. Frobisher?" "The usual places: Eton...Oxford..." The chairman beamed. "And what is your religious affiliation?" "Goy."
A priest, a mullah and a rabbi are conversing about how powerful their gods are. The priests opens: " I was on a ship once, in the Pacific Oceans, leagues away from shore, on my way to save the heathen in the Pacific. Then suddenly, the skies turned dark, rain poured, lightning struck the mast of our ship. We cough fire, our ship started filling up with water - there was panic everywhere. We all thought that we will die. So what do I do? I turn to Jesus and pray. And so you know it, the skies brighten up, the storms over and we find a small island to which we dock and do our repairs!" The mullah replies, "That's nothing compared to what happened to me. I am flying over the deserts, making my pilgrimage to Mecca. Then suddenly, a lightning struck our engines. We catch fire. We are loosing fuel. Everyone thought we are dead. So what do I do. I turn to Allah and pray. And so you know it, the skies brighten up, and we see an abandoned airfield in the middle of the desert on which we land, and are able to call for help!" The Rabbi replies, "That's nothing! I am walking down the street from the synagogue during Sabbath, I see a fat, stuffed wallet on the ground. I know its Sabbath and I can't do any work [i.e pick up the wallet]. So what do I do? I turn to God. And guess what? For everyone its Friday and for me its Thursday!"