The Cabbie And The Nun

A cabbie picks up a Nun.

She gets into the cab, and notices that the VERY handsome cab driver won’t stop staring at her.

She asks him why he is staring. He replies: ‘I have a question to ask, but I don’t want to offend you.’

She answers, ‘ My son, you cannot offend me. When you’re as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I’m sure that there’s nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive.’ 

‘Well, I’ve always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me.’

She responds, ‘Well, let’s see what we can do about that: #1, you have to be single and #2, you must be Catholic.’

The cab driver is very excited and says, ‘Yes, I’m single and Catholic!’

‘OK’ the nun says. ‘Pull into the next alley.’

The nun fulfills his fantasy with a kiss that would make a hooker blush, but when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.

‘My dear child,’ said the nun, ‘Why are you crying?’

‘Forgive me but I’ve have sinned. I lied and I must confess; I’m married and I’m Jewish.’

The nun says, ‘That’s OK. My name is Kevin and I’m going to a Halloween Party.’

Making A Baby.

There is not one dirty word in this!

The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, ‘Well, I’m off now. The man should be here soon.’

Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. ‘Good morning, Ma’am’, he said, ‘I’ve come to…’

‘Oh, no need to explain,’ Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, ‘I’ve been expecting you.’

‘Have you really?’ said the photographer. ‘Well, that’s good. Did you know babies are my specialty?’

‘Well that’s what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat’.

After a moment she asked, blushing, ‘Well, where do we start?’

‘Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there.’

‘Bathtub, couch, living room floor? No wonder it didn’t work out for Harry and me!’

‘Well, Ma’am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the results.’

‘My, that’s a lot!’, gasped Mrs. Smith.

‘Ma’am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I’d love to be in and out in five minutes, but I’m sure you’d be disappointed wiith that.’

‘Don’t I know it,’ said Mrs. Smith quietly.

The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. ‘This was done on the top of a bus,’ he said.

‘Oh, my word!’ Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.

‘And these twins turned out exceptionally well – when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with.’

‘She was difficult?’ asked Mrs. Smith.

‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look’.

‘Four and five deep?’ said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.

‘Yes’, the photographer replied. ‘And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling – I could hardly concentrate, and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in.’

Mrs. Smith leaned forward. ‘Do you mean they actually chewed on your, uh…equipment?’

‘It’s true, Ma’am, yes.. Well, if you’re ready, I’ll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away.’


‘Oh yes, Ma’am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It’s much too big to be held in the hand very long.’

Mrs. Smith fainted!

Religion In The Deep

Far away in the tropical waters of the Caribbean, two prawns were swimming around in the sea. One called Justin and the other called Christian.

The prawns were constantly being harassed and threatened by sharks that inhabited the area. Finally, one day Justin said to Christian, ‘I’m fed up with being a prawn; I wish I was a shark, and then I wouldn’t have any worries about being eaten.’

A large mysterious cod appeared and said, ‘Your wish is granted’. 

Lo and behold, Justin turned into a shark.

Horrified, Christian immediately swam away, afraid of being eaten by his old mate.

Time passed (as it does) and Justin found life as a shark boring and lonely. All his old mates simply swam away whenever he came close to them.

Justin didn’t realize that his new menacing appearance was the cause of his sad plight.

While swimming alone one day he saw the mysterious cod again and he thought perhaps the mysterious fish could change him back into a prawn.

He approached the cod and begged to be changed back, and, lo and behold, he found himself turned back into a prawn.

With tears of joy in his tiny little eyes Justin swam back to his friends and bought them all a cocktail.

(Don’t worry the punch line doesn’t involve a prawn cocktail – it’s much worse).

Looking around the gathering at the reef he realized he couldn’t see his old pal. ‘Where’s Christian?’ he asked.

‘He’s at home, still distraught that his best friend changed sides to the enemy & became a shark’, came the reply.

Eager to put things right again and end the mutual pain and torture, he set off to Christian’s abode. 

As he opened the coral gate, memories came flooding back. He banged on the door and shouted, ‘It’s me, Justin, your old friend, come out and see me again.’

Christian replied, ‘No way man, you’ll eat me. You’re now a shark, the enemy, and I’ll not be tricked into being your dinner.’

Justin cried back ‘No, I’m not. That was the old me. I’ve changed.’……….

(You’re going to love this…)

‘I’ve found Cod. I’m a Prawn again, Christian’.

This Year’s Best Joke?

I dialed a number and got the following recording:
I am not available right now, but
Thank you for caring enough to call.
I am making some changes in my life.
Please leave a message after the
Beep. If I do not return your call,
You are one of the changes.”
A small Boy wrote to Santa Claus,” send me a brother.”
Santa wrote back, “SEND ME YOUR MOTHER.”
What is the definition of Mistress?
Someone between the Mister and Mattress.
What’s the difference between stress, tension and panic?*
Stress is when wife is pregnant,*
Tension is when girlfriend is pregnant,*
And Panic is when both are pregnant.*
A woman asks man who is traveling with six children,
“Are all these kids yours?”*
The man replies, “No, I work in a condom factory and these
Are customer complaints”.
A young boy asks his Dad, “What is the difference between confident and confidential?”*
Dad says, “You are my son, I’m confident about that.
Your friend over there, is also my son, that’s confidential.”
Nominated as the best short joke this year…
A three-year-old boy was examining his testicles while taking a bath.
Mom” he asked, “are these my brains?”
“Not yet,” she replied.

David Cameron could regret his anti-alcohol crusade

It is a tradition almost as old as Christmas itself – that moment when, bloated with turkey and soggy with wine, we resolve to treat our bodies a bit more kindly in the new year. Normally, such pledges are strictly personal (not to mention ephemeral). But David Cameron wants to inflict upon the nation the political equivalent of compulsory gym membership: he is insisting that the Government’s forthcoming alcohol strategy be substantially strengthened, which will probably involve the imposition of minimum prices per unit of alcohol. The project – inspired by a similar scheme in Scotland, which bans the sale of alcohol at less than 45p per unit – will be in the spirit of Labour’s smoking ban: a “big bang” assault on a social evil. It has the full backing of the medical profession, which has done elaborate research to prove how many lives will be saved. Yet it still makes us deeply uneasy.

What is there to object to? First, it is unclear how the scheme will be implemented. The most radical option would see alcohol taxes increased sharply; but a more likely option is that the minimum price per unit will be set so as to restrict the sale of cheap booze in supermarkets, while leaving working-class pubs and middle-class dinner parties relatively unaffected. More….

Doctors and Guns

Aren’t statistics wonderful???              

(A) The number of physicians in the U.S. Is 700,000.

(B) Accidental deaths caused by Physicians Per year are  120,000.

(C) Accidental deaths per physician Is 0.171

Statistics courtesy of U.S. Dept. Of Health and Human Services.

Now think about this:      

(A) The number of gun owners in the U.S. Is 80,000,000. (Yes, that’s 80 million)

(B) The number of accidental gun deaths Per year, all age groups, Is 1,500.

(C) The number of accidental deaths Per gun owner Is .0000188

Statistics courtesy of FBI

So, statistically, doctors are approximately 9,000 times more dangerous than gun owners.
Remember, ‘Guns don’t kill people, doctors do.’

Almost everyone has at least one doctor. This means you are over 9,000 times more likely to be killed by a doctor as by a gun owner!!!
Please alert your friends To this Alarming threat. We must ban doctors Before this gets completely out of hand!!!!!
Out of concern for the public at large, We withheld the statistics on Lawyers For fear the shock would cause People to panic and seek medical attention!

Military Wives’ Choir tunes into our highest ideals

Rarely has a song that’s hit the top of the charts provoked more tears and admiration than today’s runaway winner, Wherever You Are.

This charity single is sung by the Military Wives Choir, the wives and girlfriends of British servicemen fighting in Afghanistan who were brought together by choirmaster Gareth Malone for the BBC2 series The Choir.

Having sold 556,000 copies in just over a week, the song has become a phenomenon – the fastest-selling single since 2008, outselling the rest of the Top 20 combined. And it’s outsold by six to one the song originally tipped to top the charts by The X Factor winners Little Mix.

Really, how could it not have done so? Wherever You Are is composed from letters between these wives and their men – Britain’s heroes – as they served on the battlefield. By comparison, Little Mix’s Cannonball – of all titles! — seems quite exquisitely tasteless and inappropriate.

This triumph of The Choir over The X Factor represents the victory of courage over celebrity and endurance over inanity.

The X-Factor song stands for wannabes – however winsome – dazzled by the prospect of fame and money. The Choir’s song stands for courage, patriotism and true, enduring love.


Murder of Christianity in the Muslim World

Frequently, I write about the dwindling number of Christians (and increasing attacks on them by the Muslim-dominated population) throughout every country in the Middle East, except the one where they can practice freely (Israel). It’s not just the Muslim bombing attack on Christian Church services today at two churches in Nigeria. *** UPDATE: It’s now FIVE churches bombed by Muslims in Nigeria, today for Christmas. *** The same goes for “liberated, democratic” Iraq, where, last year, Christians were forced to cancel their Christmas, including Mass, because of violence against them by Muslims. I’ve written about the fewer and fewer Christians in Gaza, where hatred and intolerance against them is the order of the day, and the Palestinian Authority, where, today, there are three Muslims to every one Christian in Jesus’ birthplace of Bethlehem, where Christians are persecuted and live in fear. Christian pilgrims who go there are giving mucho dinero to Muslims if they buy food or trinkets there, as the vast majority of vendors are Muslims who support the Fatah, HAMAS, or both. This is a business for them and they tolerate Christianity only insofar as that generates dollars for them. On every other day and in every other part of the Palestinian Authority and Gaza, they persecute Christians, even murdering them for broadcasting Christian sermons or owning Christian bookstores. This year, it’s been worse–no surprise, as it gets worse each year. HAMAS canceled Christmas.


via “Tolerance”: After HAMAS Canceled Christmas; Murder of Christianity in the Muslim World.

Has The Bishop of London Lost The Plot?

Maybe they could commission it from Tracey Emin, this “memorial tent” they’re thinking of putting on permanent display inside St Paul’s Cathedral in honour of the Occupy protesters. Or, if that sounds too obvious, maybe they could get Jake and Dinos Chapman to do a diorama of 10,000 bankers having their arms and legs ripped off in ironic homage to Goya’s Disasters of War. Or how about a gigantic, jewel-encrusted dog-on-a-rope from Damian Hirst? Or an installation by Chris Offili of dirty needles, condoms and unsold copies of the Socialist Worker sitting on a pile of elephant poo?

Whatever they decide on, this much is clear: something must be done to honour the defiance, tenacity and heroic soap-shunning of the protesters who’ve spent the past few weeks camped outside St Paul’s. We learn this from no less an authority than the Bishop of London himself, speaking on Christmas Day as he presented some of the protesters with a big box of chocolates: “The canons have been very imaginative and consulting with the protesters about how to leave a legacy of the protests. We are looking for ways of honouring what has been said when the camp moves on.”

Thus Dr Richard Chartres, third most senior clergyman in the Church of England (after the Archbishops of Canterbury and York), doing a bravura impression of Peter Simple’s barmily progressive Bishop of Bevindon, Dr Spacely-Trellis. The only giveaway is that Chartres forgot to slip in the phrase “in a very real sense”. Otherwise, the impression would have been note perfect.

What’s particularly depressing about this episode is that Chartres is supposedly one of the Church’s more traditional senior clerics. If this is the line the Church’s reactionary old school is taking, imagine what insanities its more progressive elements are yearning to impose on us. Presumably they won’t really feel that justice has been done until St Paul’s has been razed to the ground and replaced by a permanent Anti-Capitalist Peace Camp.

As Time magazine claimed, 2011 may have been the Year of the Protester. But it was also the Year When The Church Of England Lost The Plot Completely. All the signs were there in October when, instead of seeking immediately to evict the rabble that had forced St Paul’s to close for longer than it did even during the Blitz, the Church instead decided to cosy up to the protesters and “feel their pain” – and thus prolong the occupation. But even by the modern C of E’s dismally inept standards, the Bishop of London’s yuletide surrender-monkey offering really does plumb stygian new depths of abject inanity. More…

via Has the Bishop of London lost the plot? – Telegraph.