A drunk man who smelled like rum sat down on a subway seat next to a
priest. The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half bottle of Bacardi 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, d'ya know what causes arthritis?"
"Yes, my son, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked
women, drinking too much alcohol, having contempt for your fellow
men, sleeping around with prostitutes, lack of bath, and things like
"Well, I'll be!," the drunk muttered returning to his paper.
The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologised saying:
"I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strongly. How long have you
had arthritis?"
"I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does..."


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