A priest appears at the gate to hell. Surprised, because priests were rare in hell, a demon gets curious and jumps into the priest's path.
"How'd you die?" he thunders at him.
The priest replied, "I had a heart attack."
Demon: "Alright, what happened?"
Priest: "Someone broke my windows, popped the tire on my Harley, and stole all my tools out of my shed."
Demon: "Well that'd give some a heart attack alright. But you're a priest! Why are you in hell?"
Priest: "Well, I was receiving confessionals when a boy walked in and said "Forgive me father, for I have sinned." I asked what he did. He said "I broke someone's windows, popped a tire on his Harley, and stole all his tools."
I had a heart attack while I was wringing that little bastard's neck."
The preacher, in his Sunday sermon, used "Forgive Your Enemies" as his subject.
After a long sermon, he asked how many were willing to forgive their enemies.
About half held up their hands.
Not satisfied he harangued for another twenty minutes and repeated his question.
This time he received a response of about 80 percent.
Still unsatisfied, he lectured for another 15 minutes and repeated his question.
With all thoughts now on Sunday dinner, all responded except one elderly lady in the rear.
"Mrs. Jones, are you not willing to forgive your enemies?" asked the preacher.
"I don't have any." Said the old lady.
"Mrs. Jones, that is very unusual. How old are you?"
"That is incredible! Mrs. Jones, please come down in front and tell the congregation how a person can live to be 97, and not have an enemy in the world."
The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, very slowly turned around and said:
"It's easy, I just outlived the bastards."
Fred was about to tee off on the first hole when a second golfer (George) approached and asked if he could join him. Fred said that he usually played alone, but agreed to the twosome. They were even after the first few holes.
George said, "We're about evenly matched, how about playing for five bucks a hole?" Fred said that he wasn't much for betting, but agreed.
George easily won the remaining 16 holes. They walked off number eighteen while George counted his $80.00. He then confessed that he was the pro at a neighboring course and “liked to pick on suckers.”
Fred, shocked, revealed that he was the Parish Priest.
The pro was flustered and apologetic and offered to return the money. The Priest said, "You won fair and square I was foolish to bet with you. Keep your winnings."
The embarrassed pro asked, "Please, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
The Priest said, "Well, you could come to Mass on Sunday and make a donation. And, if you want to bring your Mother and Father along, I'll marry them.”
Ten Catholic priests all die in a bus accident. When they arrive at the pearly gates, St. Peter acknowledges them. He sees that they’re all priests and immediately says "If any of you are molesters, there’s no point waiting here. You might as well eff off straight to hell right now!” Nine of the priests turn around and begin to walk away.
One day a blond walks into a doctors office with both of her ears burnt. The doctor asked her what had happened. She says, "well... when I was ironing my work suit the phone rang and I picked up the iron instead of the phone by mistake. "Well that explains one ear, but what about the other?" "The bastard called again."
The Big Bastard
A priest goes on a fishing trip with a few others and some sailors to help them. A few hours in, he suddenly hooks a very big fish.
Helping him reel it in, a sailor says "Whoa, look at the size of that Bastard!".
"Hey, mind your language!" says the priest.
Embarrassed, the sailor thinks quickly and blurts out, "Sorry father, but that's what this fish is called, it's a Bastard fish".
Accepting the explanation, the priest forgives the sailor and takes the fish back to church.
"Look at this huge Bastard!" says the priest, spotting the bishop.
"Language, please! this is God's house," replies the bishop.
"No, no that's what this fish is called," says the priest.
"Oh," says the bishop, scratching his chin "I could clean that bastard and we could have it for dinner."
So the bishop takes the fish, cleans it, and brings it to the mother superior.
"Could you cook this bastard for dinner tonight?" he asks her.
"My, what language!" she exclaims, clearly shocked.
"No, sister that's what the fish is called - a bastard", says the bishop.
Satisfied with the explanation, the mother superior says, "Wonderful, I'll cook that bastard tonight, The Pope is coming for dinner!"
The fish tastes just great and The Pope asks where they got it.
"Well, I caught the bastard!" says the priest.
"And I cleaned the bastard!" says the bishop.
"And I cooked the bastard!" says the mother superior.
The Pope stares at them for a long moment with a steely gaze, leans back in his chair, takes off his cap, puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whiskey and says:" You know what? You schmucks are alright."
One day, a gentleman's wife is planning on hosting a dinner party and wants to class it up a bit, so she sends her husband out to pick up some snails for escargot. He picks up the snails and starts heading home, but on the way, the gentleman runs into an old friend and stops to chat for a minute.
The two get to chatting and the friend suggests, "Wanna grab a pint?" To which the man replies, "No, I should really be getting back, my wife'll be pissed if I'm late for her dinner." So after some more minor prodding the man, of course, goes out for the one, snails in hand. The fellas get to drinking and lose track of time, drinking into the night until the man looks up at the clock and realizes, "Oops! I'm 4 hours late for the darn dinner!" So he snatches up his bag of snails and tears down the street to home.
As the man starts up his walk, stumbling and plastered, he trips on the front steps, raising a cacophony of sound and alerting his wife to his beleaguered presence. She slams open the door, looks down at the drunk, and darn near explodes.
"Where the hell have you been?! You're four hours late for dinner! Explain yourself, ya drunk bastard!"
The man, knowing he's screwed and looking down at his sad state and the snails scattered all about, decides to take the chance. Raising his fist and adopting a motivational tone, he says with a dare, "Five feet more lads, we're almost there!"