Mother Superior celebrated her 40th year of service at the Convent. The Pope called her to the Vatican to congratulate her for her faithfulness. The Pope said, “On behalf of your faithful service you may choose whether to continue working or you may choose to retire.” Mother Superior said, “I want to be a prostitute!” The Pope grabbed his chest and collapsed on the floor. His attendants rushed to his side and revived him. Shakily he regained his composure. “What did you say?” He asked nervously. “I want to be a prostitute!” She said. “Oh, thank God,” the Pope said, wiping his forehead with a towel, “I thought you said you wanted to be a Protestant!”
Didn't see that coming
- RickD
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Didn't see that coming
John 5:24
24 “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who hears My word, and believes Him who sent Me, has eternal life, and does not come into judgment, but has passed out of death into life.
“A nation of sheep will beget a government of wolves.”
-Edward R Murrow
St. Richard the Sarcastic--The Patron Saint of Irony
24 “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who hears My word, and believes Him who sent Me, has eternal life, and does not come into judgment, but has passed out of death into life.
“A nation of sheep will beget a government of wolves.”
-Edward R Murrow
St. Richard the Sarcastic--The Patron Saint of Irony
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Re: Didn't see that coming
we're talking medieval ages here, aren't we?
It would be a blessing if they missed the cairns and got lost on the way back. Or if
the Thing on the ice got them tonight.
I could only turn and stare in horror at the chief surgeon.
Death by starvation is a terrible thing, Goodsir, continued Stanley.
And with that we went below to the flame-flickering Darkness of the lower deck
and to a cold almost the equal of the Dante-esque Ninth Circle Arctic Night
without.
//johnadavid.wordpress.com
the Thing on the ice got them tonight.
I could only turn and stare in horror at the chief surgeon.
Death by starvation is a terrible thing, Goodsir, continued Stanley.
And with that we went below to the flame-flickering Darkness of the lower deck
and to a cold almost the equal of the Dante-esque Ninth Circle Arctic Night
without.
//johnadavid.wordpress.com