= = = A Good Catholic Joke = = = WOODEN NICKEL

A Good Catholic Joke

Two priests decided to go to Hawaii on vacation. They were determined to make this a real vacation by not wearing anything that would identify them as clergy. As soon as the plane landed, they headed for a store and bought shorts, shirts, sandals, sunglasses, etc.

The next morning, they went to the beach, dressed in their "tourist" garb. They were sitting on beach chairs, enjoying a drink, the sunshine and the scenery when a "drop dead gorgeous" blonde in a thong bikini came walking straight towards them.

They couldn't help but stare. As the blonde passed them, she smiled and said, "Good morning, Father, good morning, Father," nodding and addressing each of them individually, then passed on by. They were both stunned.

How in the world did she know they were priests? So the next day, they went back to the store &bought even more outrageous outfits. These were so loud you could hear them before you even saw them.

Once again the two priests in mufti settled on the beach in their chairs to enjoy the sunshine. After a while, the same gorgeous blonde, wearing a string bikini, taking her sweet time, came walking toward them. Again she nodded at each of them, said, "Good morning, Father" and started to walk away.

One of the priests couldn't stand it any longer and said, "Just a minute young lady." Yes," she replied. "We are priests, and proud of it, but I have to know, how in the world did you know we are priests, dressed as we are?" The blonde turned around and replied, "Father, it's me, Sister Angela."

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The students in my third grade class were bombarding me with questions about my newly pierced ears. "Does the hole go all the way through?" "Yes." "Did it hurt?" "Just a little." "Did they stick a needle through your ears?" "No, they used a special gun." Silence followed, and then one solemn voice called out, "How far away did they stand?"

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A man walks into his doctor's office and sits down in the waiting room. While he is waiting his turn to be seen, a casual acquaintance walks in and sits down next to him. The newcomer asks "W w what are yyy you ddd doing here?" The man replies, " I am waiting to see the doctor." "W wwhy dd do yyy you wwant to sss see hhim?" The man replies, "Well, if you must know, I have a prostate problem. " A pp prostate ppp problem, wwhat's ttthat?" "Well, if you must know. I pee like you talk."

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A man walks into a pet shop to buy his mother a birthday present. He selects a beautiful parrot. Two weeks later, he calls his mom. "How's the bird I got you?" "Oh, it was delicious," she replied. Her son, in disbelief, says, "What?? You ate that parrot? He cost me $600.00 and could speak six languages!" "Well," she replied, "he should have said something!"

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Most of you have read the scare-mail about the person whose kidneys were stolen while he was passed out. While that was an "urban legend," this one is NOT. It's happening every day. I'm sending this "warning" only to a few of my closest friends. You too may have been a victim ... read on.

My thighs were stolen from me during the night of August 3rd a few years ago. It was just that quick. I went to sleep in my body and woke up with someone else's thighs. The new ones had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Who would have done such a cruel thing to legs that had been wholly, if imperfectly, mine for years? Whose thighs were these? What happened to mine?

I spent the entire summer looking for them. I searched, in vain, at pools and beaches, anywhere I might find female limbs exposed. I became obsessed. I had nightmares filled with cellulite and flesh that turns to bumps in the night. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans and Sheer Energy pantyhose. Then, just when my guard was down, the thieves struck again. My rear end was next.

I knew it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new rear end (although badly attached at least three inches lower than the original) to the thighs they had stuck me with earlier. Now my rear complemented my legs, lump for lump. Frantic, I prayed that long skirts would stay in fashion. Two years ago I realized my arms had been switched. One morning while fixing my hair, I watched, horrified but fascinated, as the flesh of my upper arms swung to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush.

This was really getting scary. My body was being replaced, cleverly and fiendishly, one section at a time. In the end, in deepening despair, I gave up my T-shirts. What could they do to me next? Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age was supposed to creep up, unnoticed and intangible, something like maturity.

NO, I was being attacked, repeatedly and without warning. That's why I've decided to share my story. I can't take on the medical profession by myself. Women of America, wake up and smell the coffee!

That isn't really "plastic" those surgeons are using. You know where they're getting those replacement parts, don't you? The next time you suspect someone has had a face "lifted," look again! Was it lifted from you? Check out those tummy tucks and buttocks raisings. Look familiar? Are those your eyelids on that movie star? I think I finally may have found my thighs...and I hope that Cindy Crawford paid a really good price for them!

This is NOT a hoax! This is happening to women in every town every night........Warn your friends!!!!!!!

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