The Reverend John Fuzz was pastor of a small congregation in a little
Pennsylvania town. One day he was walking down Main Street and he happened
to notice a female member of his congregation sitting in the town bar,
drinking beer.
The reverend thought this was sinful and not something a member of his
congregation should do, so he walked through the open door of the bar and
sat down next to the woman.
"Mrs. Fitzgerald," the reverend said sternly. "This is no place for a member
of my congregation. Why don't you let me take you home?"
"Shure," she said with a slur, obviously very drunk.
When Mrs. Fitzgerald stood up from the bar, she began to weave back and
forth. The reverend realized that she had had too much to drink and he
grabbed hold of her arms to steady her. When he did, they both lost their
balance and tumbled to the floor.
After rolling around for a few seconds, the reverend wound up lying on top
of Mrs. Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.
The bartender looked over the bar and said, "Here, here, buddy, we won't
have any of that carrying on in this bar!"
The reverend looked up at the bartender and said, "But you don't
understand, I'm Pastor Fuzz."
The bartender nodded, "Hell then, if you're that far in you might as well
finish up."
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