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.”<>
“Wow,” 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.”<>
