On an aircraft coming from Switzerland was a highly prominent woman.
When she was sitting next to a kind priest, she said, “Pardon me, may I ask you for a favor?”
“My child, of course. What can I do for you?”
The issue is that I spent a significant amount of money on a new, advanced hair removal device for myself. I fear that it will be seized at customs because I have truly over the declaration restrictions. Do you think you could hide it under your cassock?”
“Of course I could, my kid, but you have to understand that I’m not capable of lying.”
She handed him the “hair remover” after saying, “You have such an honest face, Father, I am sure they will not ask you any questions.”
The aircraft arrived at its destination. When the priest presented himself to customs he was asked, “Father, do you have anything to declare?”
“From the top of my head to my sash, I have nothing to declare, my son”, he replied.
Finding this reply strange, the customs officer asked, “And from the sash down, what do you have?”
The priest replied, “I have there a marvelous little instrument designed for use by women, but which has never been used.”
Breaking out in laughter, the customs officer said, “Go ahead Father. Next!”
One day, little Johnny was packing everything in his room and loading it into his small red wagon in preparation for his trip to his father’s house.
When he reached this hill, he was strolling with his wagon in tow. He began climbing the slope, but he couldn’t stop cursing, “This damn thing is so heavy.”
After hearing him, a priest emerged. The priest remarked, “You shouldn’t be using profanity.” “God hears you. He’s everywhere. He’s in the church. He’s on the pavement. He’s everywhere.”
Then Little Johnny says: “Oh is he in my Wagon?”
The priest replies: “Yes Johnny, God is in your Wagon.”
Little Johnny says: “Well tell him to get the hell out and start pulling.”
A pleasant, well-respected woman with a pleasant perfume scent boarded the bus and took a seat next to me.
After a few moments, I ventured to question her: “Pardon me, lady. Would you mind telling me the name of this perfume and where you purchased it? I’d like to get my wife one.
In response, the woman said, “It is Chanel and from Paris.”
After ten minutes or so, I felt a strong wind in my stomach, which I gradually pushed out.
She cried out, “Offf…what is this smell, my God,” a few seconds later.
I said: “Garlic and I am from Gilroy, California.”