A man, who smelled like a distillery, flopped down on a subway seat next to a priest. The mans tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opened his newspaper and began reading.

After a few minutes the disheveled man turned to the priest and said, Say, Father, what causes arthritis?

Mister, its caused by loose living, being with cheap wicked women, too much alcohol, and a contempt for your fellow man.

Well, Ill be, the drunk muttered, returning to his paper.

The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologized. Im very sorry, I didnt mean to come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?

I dont have it, Father. I was just reading that the Pope does.