A man who smelled like a distillery flopped 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 guy turned to the priest and asked, Say, Father, what causes
arthritis?

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

Well, Ill be damned, 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 here that the Pope does.