The Pope
Posted by: root <root@...>
suit and a clip-on tie, holding a hand-lettered sign that says "Pope"
After getting all his luggage loaded in the limo -- and His Holiness doesn't
travel light -- the driver notices that the Pope is still standing on the
curb.
"Hey, Mr. Pope," says the driver in accented English, "why have you not
seated yourself in the excellent limo?"
"Well, to tell you the truth," says the Pope, "they never let me drive at
the Vatican, and I'd really like to drive."
"That is very much against the rules!", protested the driver, wishing he'd
never left Calcutta.
"There might be something extra in it for you," said the Pope.
Reluctantly, the driver got in the back as the Pope got in behind the wheel.
He quickly regretted his decision when, after clearing the airport, the Pope
accelerated the limo to105 mph.
"Please be driving not so rapidly, Mr. Pope," pleaded the worried driver,
but the Pope kept the pedal to the medal.
Then they heard the siren.
"Oh, good grief, now I am surely losing my license," moaned the driver.
The Pope pulled over and rolled down the window as the patrolman approached,
but the cop took one look at him, went back to his motorcycle, and got on
the radio.
"I need to talk to the Chief," he said to the dispatch.
When the Chief got on the radio, the cop told him that he'd stopped a limo
going a hundred and five.
"So bust him," said the Chief.
"I think the guy's a big shot," said the cop.
"All the more reason."
"No, I mean really a big shot," said the cop.
"What'd ya got there, the Mayor?"
"Bigger."
"Governor."
"Bigger."
"Well," said the Chief, "who is it?"
"I don't know," said the cop. "But he's got the Pope driving for him."
____________________________________________________
SUSIE PAINTS HER KITCHEN
==========================
It was a hot and humid July afternoon, when I decided to visit my
girlfriend, Susie. Susie may be blonde and beautiful, but sometimes she is,
shall we say, lacking in other areas. Well, Susie had decided her kitchen
needed painting, and instead of hiring a professional, she decided to do it
herself. I thought she might appreciate a break and brought over some cold
Pepsi and some sandwiches.
When I arrived, I found Susie working hard painting the kitchen walls. But
instead of wearing old clothes, she was wearing her fur coat and her ski
parka. I asked her why she was dressed that way on such a hot day. She
brought me the paint bucket and told me to read the instructions. I did. It
said,
"For best results, put on two coats."