I've heard some variati0ons on that. Guy and girl are making out in the back seat and, panting, she says 'kiss me where it smells'. So he drove her to New Jersey.
Another with a couple in the backseat and he slides a finger inside and she asks for more, working his entire hand in. She tells him to put the other hand in - so now he's wrist deep with both and she smiles. "Now clap." He struggles, but can't and she grins wider. "Tight, huh?"
Pastor William’s wife was expecting. As soon as they knew, he asked his congregation for a raise. His salary wasn’t sufficient to support a family of soon-to-be three.
Much discussion ensued, but a vote was eventually taken. It was agreed that Pastor Willian’s salary would be adjusted each time he fathered a child. After all, the least they could do is ensure that their spiritual leader could continue leading the flock without worrying about personal finances.
Pastor William and his wife, doing the Lord’s work by being fruitful and multiplying, had six children before the congregation agreed that this could not continue. Pastor William’s salary had become an issue of concern, a burden, if you will, according to the church’s accountant. Another meeting was convened.
A great deal of level-headed discussion, then arguing and bickering ensued over the current cost and potential costs should the good pastor and his wife continue producing children.
Pastor William said nothing as the often-heated wrangling continued. But after a time, there was little left unsaid. It was then that he rose and addressed his flock. “Please, remember that children are a gift from God. And my dear Edythe and I will take as many gifts as God chooses.”
His words were met with stony silence. Hard to argue with the logic of the Good Book.
Then, from the back pew came a shaky harrumph. A small, frail figure struggled to her feet. The parishioners, recognizing the church’s eldest member, remained reverently silent.
“My dear Pastor William,” she said, her voice quivering with emotion, “Rain is also a gift from God, but when we get too much of it, we put on rubber boots.”
The Pope dies and, naturally, goes to heaven. He's met by the reception committee, and after a whirlwind tour, he is told that he can enjoy any of the myriad recreations available.
He decides to read all of the ancient original text of the Holy Scriptures, so he spends the next eon or so learning languages. After becoming a linguistic master, he sits down in the library and begins to pour over every version of the Bible, working back from the most recent "Easy Reading" to the original script.
All of a sudden his scream echoes from in the library. The Angels come running to find the Pope huddled in his chair, crying to himself and muttering, "An 'R'! The scribes left out the 'R'." A particularly concerned Angel takes him aside, offering comfort, and asks him what the problem is and what he means.
After collecting his wits, the Pope sobs again, "It's the letter 'R'. They left out the 'R'. The word was supposed to be CELEBRATE!"
Sadly, the Pope joke doesn't quite work. Priestly celibacy was first imposed by a pope in the 1100s, so the document stating the requirement was most likely in Latin and wasn't in the Holy Scriptures. I doubt there have been many popes who couldn't read Latin.
To make things worse, in Latin "celibate" is "caelibatus" and "celebrate" is "celebramus" (according to Google Translate - my Latin is essentially nonexistent). Google Translate also says that "celebamus" translates as "let's celebrate", so the missing 'r' makes a much smaller difference.
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Oh, I knew that the joke was proverbial hogwash. the first pope, Peter, according to Roman Catholic Tradition, was married. (The New Testament says he had a mother-in-law, and the Apostle Paul said Peter had a wife who went with him.) So celibate is an incorrect RC (Roman Catholic) tradition.