A DRUNK man reeking of alcohol got on a train and sat down 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, consorting with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol and a contempt for your fellow man,” the priest replied scornfully.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the drunk muttered, returning to his paper.
After sitting in silence for a while, the priest thought maybe he’d come on too strong, and apologised to the man. “I’m sorry, my son. How long have you had arthritis?” he asked.
“I don’t have it, Father,” the man said. “I was just reading here that the Pope does.”