A pastor asked if anyone in the congregation would like to express Praise for answered prayers.
A lady stood and walked to the podium. She said, "I have a praise: Two months ago my husband, Jim, had a terrible bicycle wreck and his Scrotum was smashed. The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn't know If they could help him."
She continued, "Jim was unable to hold me or the children and every move caused him terrible pain. We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate operation. They were able to piece together the crushed remnants of Jim's scrotum and wrap wire around it to hold it in place."
The men in the congregation squirmed uncomfortably.
She continued, "Now Jim is out of the hospital and the doctors say that, with time, his scrotum should recover completely."
All the men sighed with relief. The pastor rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had anything to say.
A man rose and walked to the podium. He said, "Good morning, I'm Jim and I want to tell my wife ONCE AGAIN that the word is STERNUM."
10/31/2008
10/21/2008
Drinking With Jesus
The three men kept looking at this other man, for he seemed terribly familiar.
They stared and stared, wondering where they had seen him before, when suddenly the Irishman cried out 'My God, I know who that man is. It's Jesus!'
The others looked again and, sure enough, it was Jesus himself, sitting alone at a table.
The Irishman calls out, 'Hey! You!!! Are you Jesus?'
The man looks over at him, smiles a small smile and nods his head. 'Yes, I am Jesus' he says.
The Irishman calls the bartender over and says to him 'I'd like you to give Jesus over there a pint of Guinness from me.'
So the bartender pours Jesus a Guinness and takes it over to his table.
Jesus looks over, raises his glass, smiles thank you and drinks.
The Englishman then calls out, 'Errr, excuse me Sir but would you be Jesus?'
Jesus smiles and says, 'Yes, I am Jesus.'
The Englishman beckons the bartender and tells him to send over a Pint of Newcastle Brown Ale for Jesus This the bartender duly does.
As before, Jesus accepts the drink and smiles over at the men.
Then the Australian calls out, 'Oi, you! D'ya reckon you're Jesus, or what?'
Jesus nods and says, 'Yes, I am Jesus.'
The Australian is mighty impressed and has the bartender send over Pot of Victoria Bitter for Jesus, this he accepts with pleasure. Some time later, after finishing the drinks, Jesus leaves his seat and approaches the three men.
He reaches for the hand of the Irishman and shakes it, thanking him for the Guinness.
When he lets go, the Irishman gives a cry of amazement. Oh God, the arthritis is gone,' he says. 'The arthritis I've had for years is gone. It's a miracle!'
Jesus then shakes the hand of the Englishman, thanking him for the Newcastle Brown Ale. Upon letting go, the Englishman's eyes widen in shock. By Jove', he exclaims, 'The migraine I've had for over 40 years is completely gone. It's a Miracle!'
Jesus then approaches the Australian, who has a terrified look on his face.
The Aussie whispers.'Piss off mate, I'm on Workers Comp'
They stared and stared, wondering where they had seen him before, when suddenly the Irishman cried out 'My God, I know who that man is. It's Jesus!'
The others looked again and, sure enough, it was Jesus himself, sitting alone at a table.
The Irishman calls out, 'Hey! You!!! Are you Jesus?'
The man looks over at him, smiles a small smile and nods his head. 'Yes, I am Jesus' he says.
The Irishman calls the bartender over and says to him 'I'd like you to give Jesus over there a pint of Guinness from me.'
So the bartender pours Jesus a Guinness and takes it over to his table.
Jesus looks over, raises his glass, smiles thank you and drinks.
The Englishman then calls out, 'Errr, excuse me Sir but would you be Jesus?'
Jesus smiles and says, 'Yes, I am Jesus.'
The Englishman beckons the bartender and tells him to send over a Pint of Newcastle Brown Ale for Jesus This the bartender duly does.
As before, Jesus accepts the drink and smiles over at the men.
Then the Australian calls out, 'Oi, you! D'ya reckon you're Jesus, or what?'
Jesus nods and says, 'Yes, I am Jesus.'
The Australian is mighty impressed and has the bartender send over Pot of Victoria Bitter for Jesus, this he accepts with pleasure. Some time later, after finishing the drinks, Jesus leaves his seat and approaches the three men.
He reaches for the hand of the Irishman and shakes it, thanking him for the Guinness.
When he lets go, the Irishman gives a cry of amazement. Oh God, the arthritis is gone,' he says. 'The arthritis I've had for years is gone. It's a miracle!'
Jesus then shakes the hand of the Englishman, thanking him for the Newcastle Brown Ale. Upon letting go, the Englishman's eyes widen in shock. By Jove', he exclaims, 'The migraine I've had for over 40 years is completely gone. It's a Miracle!'
Jesus then approaches the Australian, who has a terrified look on his face.
The Aussie whispers.'Piss off mate, I'm on Workers Comp'
10/17/2008
Phantom Dumper
I had a very boozy night out with some mates, and met up with a couple of girls who stayed over at mine with us. I did the gentlemanly thing by letting them stay in my bed, whilst I wasn't in it, without even vaguely pestering them to play hide the sausage with me.
Next morning we get up. Hungover to the point of being the critical list. All of us. I go to the bathroom and see shitty fingerprints on the wall by the bog. Evidence of someone in distress gripping for purchase. I found these smears rather disturbing. No one admits to them.
The girls leave, commenting that the flat smells of shit. Not the best impression. I have no sense of smell having imbibed all of the world's evils on the previous night. I set my friends on the task of locating the offending area.
Eventually we found it. A large black liquid dump on top of a bin bag by the front door of my flat.
Drunk and incoherent one of my mates had got up in the night, not found the bog, squatted and shat on a bin bag full of rubbish in my hall *then* realised what a mess he was in, staggered to and located the toilet, smeared shit up the walls, attempted to sort himself out and eventually returned to bed.
Neither of my mates admitted to it, but we had our suspicions. It was black and practically had a head on it, and one guy had been drinking guinness all night immediately after flying home from LA. The last thing I saw of him that night was him sat on the bed, vomiting into my favourite mug.
Instead of dragging admissions out of people, we did the honourable thing and we all dealt with it, in the manner a Hollywood moview where college kids commit some terrible murder and swear to never speak of it again.
Oops.
Next morning we get up. Hungover to the point of being the critical list. All of us. I go to the bathroom and see shitty fingerprints on the wall by the bog. Evidence of someone in distress gripping for purchase. I found these smears rather disturbing. No one admits to them.
The girls leave, commenting that the flat smells of shit. Not the best impression. I have no sense of smell having imbibed all of the world's evils on the previous night. I set my friends on the task of locating the offending area.
Eventually we found it. A large black liquid dump on top of a bin bag by the front door of my flat.
Drunk and incoherent one of my mates had got up in the night, not found the bog, squatted and shat on a bin bag full of rubbish in my hall *then* realised what a mess he was in, staggered to and located the toilet, smeared shit up the walls, attempted to sort himself out and eventually returned to bed.
Neither of my mates admitted to it, but we had our suspicions. It was black and practically had a head on it, and one guy had been drinking guinness all night immediately after flying home from LA. The last thing I saw of him that night was him sat on the bed, vomiting into my favourite mug.
Instead of dragging admissions out of people, we did the honourable thing and we all dealt with it, in the manner a Hollywood moview where college kids commit some terrible murder and swear to never speak of it again.
Oops.
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