The Pope and Hillary Rodham Clinton are on the same stage in front of a huge crowd.
The senator and His Holiness, however, have seen it all before. To make it a little more interesting,
the senator says to the Pope, "Did you know that with just one little wave of my hand I can make every Democrat in the crowd go wild?"
He doubts it, so she shows him. Sure enough, the wave elicits rapture and cheering from every Democrat
in the crowd. Gradually, the cheering subsides.
The Pope, not wanting to be outdone by such a level of arrogance, considers what he could do. "That was impressive, the Pope says, "but did you know that with just one little wave of MY hand I can make EVERY person in the crowd go crazy with joy? This joy will not be a momentary display like that of your subjects,
but will go deep into their hearts, and they will forever speak of this day and rejoice."
The senator seriously doubts this, and says so. "One little wave of your hand and all people will rejoice forever? Show me."
So the Pope slapped her.
__________________
Now
THAT'S gold!
A catholic priest, a pedophile and a homosexual walk into a bar, and he orders a drink.
EDIT* From UCP (2ndclasscitizen)
When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialled it. A man answered, saying "Hello."
I Politely said, "This is David. Could I please speak with Robert Campbell?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f*kin number!" and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robert's correct number to call him, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
After hanging up with him, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're a C*nt!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'C*nt' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer.
Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell,
"You're a C*nt!"
It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'C*nt' calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from BT. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"
He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're a C*nt!"
One day I was at Lakeside Shopping Centre, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a gunmetal grey Land Rover cut me up and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me.
I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first C*nt (I had his number on speed dial), I thought that I'd better call the Land Rover C*nt, too. I said, "Is this the man with the gunmetal grey Land Rover for sale?"
Yes, it is", he said.
"Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked.
"Yes, I live at 129 Alice Street, in Ilford. It's a terraced house, and the car's parked right out in front."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"My name is Steve Hansen," he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Steve?"
"I'm home most days as I'm currently unemployed."
"Listen, Steve, can I tell you something?"
"Yes?"
"Steve, you're a C*nt!"
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two *a@!%hole* to call. Then I came up with an idea.
I called C*nt#1.
Hello." "You're a C*nt!" (But I didn't hang up.)
"Are you still there?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Stop calling me," he screamed.
"Make me," I said.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Steve Hansen."
"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"I live at 129 Alice Street, Ilford, a terraced house, with my gunmetal grey Land Rover parked out the front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Steve.
And you had better start saying your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, C*nt," and hung up.
Then I called C*nt#2.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hello, C*nt," I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
"You'll do what?" I said.
"I'll kick your a**e," he exclaimed.
I answered, "Well, C*nt, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 129 Alice Street, Ilford ,and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 5 News about the hoodiewar going down in Alice Street, Ilford .
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Alice Street.
I got there just in time to watch two C*nts beating the crap out of each other in front of six police cars, an overhead police helicopter and a News crew.
NOW I feel much better.
Anger management really works...
