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."

A man walks up to the counter. "Two pairs of underwear please." The man behind the counter looks at him in disbelief. "Only two pairs of underwear?" "Yup. I wear one while the other is in the wash." The man behind the counter looks at him in disgust, then rings out his order. A second man walks in. "5 pairs of underwear please." "Only 5 eh?" "Yeah, I wear one for every weekday, then go commando all the weekend." The man behind the counter shakes his head. "Well, you're better then the last guy!" A third man walks in. "7 pairs of underwear please." "Finally, a man who knows hygiene!" "Yes, I do try. One for every day, and I do my laundry on Sunday." At the end of the day, a fourth man walks into the underwear store. "12 pairs of underwear please." "Wow! You must be really clean!" The man smiles. "Yup, that's me! Err, hang on, let me see if I counted right. January, February, March, April..."