A pastor explains to his congregation that the church is badly in need of some money to repair its roof, and he would appreciate their being more generous than usual in their donations. He adds that whoever donates most generously will have the honor of selecting three hymns.

After the collection plates have been passed, the pastor sees that someone has graciously offered a $1,000 bill. He is so excited that he immediately shares his joy with the congregation, saying that he’d like to personally thank the godly individual who placed such a generous sum into the plate.

A very prim, elderly, saintly lady in the back of the church shyly raises her hand. The pastor asks her to come to the front, and after protesting, she finally, slowly makes her way toward him. The pastor thanks her warmly and asks her to pick out three hymns, as promised. Her eyes brighten as she looks over the congregation. She points to the three most handsome men present and says, ‘’I’ll take him….him….and him.’’


A married man goes to confession and says to the priest, ‘’Father, I had an affair with a woman….almost.’’

‘’What do you mean ‘almost’?’’ asks the priest.

‘’Well, we got undressed and rubbed together, but then I stopped.’’

‘’Rubbing together is the same as putting it in,’’ explains the priest. ‘’You’re not to go near that woman again. Now, say five Hail Marys and put fifty dollars in the poor box.’’

The man leaves the confessional, says his prayers, and walks over to the poor box. He pauses for a moment and then decides to leave. The priest quickly runs over to the man and exclaims, ‘’I saw that! You didn’t put any money in the poor box!’’

‘’Well, Father, I rubbed up against it and, like you said, it’s the same as putting it in!’’

 


 

One night, an eighty-seven-year-old woman comes home from bingo to find her husband in bed with another woman. She becomes violent and ends up pushing him off the balcony of their twentieth-floor apartment, killing him instantly.

Brought before the court on the charge of murder, she is asked if she has anything to say in her own defence.

‘’Your Honor,’’ she begins coolly, ‘’I figured that, at ninety-two, if he could screw, he could fly.’’

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