Wednesday, September 04, 2013
A drunk staggers into church and wanders up the aisle moaning to himself.
“Help me, help me, it’s bloody agony.”
Eventually, he makes it into the confessional and all goes quiet.
After a few minutes the priest decides he’d better find out if everything is alright so he says, “May I help you my son?”
“I don’t know” comes the reply, “it depends on whether you have any paper in there.”