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The Reverend John Fuzz was a pastor of a small congregation in a little Pennsylvania town. One day, he was walking down Main Street and he happened to notice a female member of his congregation sitting in the town bar, drinking beer. The reverend thoght this was sinful and not something a member of his congregation should do. He walked through the open door of the bar and sat down next to the woman.
"Mrs. Fitzgerald," the reverend said sternly. "This is no place for a member of my congregation. Why don't you let me take you home?"
"Sure," she said with a slur. Obviously very drunk. When Mrs. Fitzgerald stood up from the bar, she began to weave back and forth. The reverend realized that she had had too much to drink and he grabbed hold of her arms to steady her. When he did, they both lost their balance and tumbled to the floor. After rolling around for a few seconds, the reverend wound up lying on top of Mrs. Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.
The bartender looked over the bar and said, "Here, here, buddy, we won't have any of that carrying on this bar."
The reverend looked up at the bartender and said, "But you don't understand, I'm Pastor Fuzz."
The bartender nodded, "Well if you're that far into the game, you may as well finish!"
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Does it mean the reverend is practicing what he preaches? After all, he's human. Abi?
___________________ "We are where we are in large part at the moment, because our self-identified leaders of thought have put us there."----Ukpabi Asika Posts: 321 | From: Athens, Ohio USA | Registered: Mar 2001
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Ambrose, if I crack my ribs you'll pay for it! You had me falling off my chair, tears of laughter rolling down my face, and everyone thinking that I've lost it.
Haba, our right Reverend should have let the woman wallow in her sins. He won't have end up on that missionary position. Chei! The handshake don pass elbow.
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