Arthritis

     A man, who smelled like a distillery, flopped down on a subway seat 
next to a priest. The man's 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, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap wicked women, 
too much alcohol, and a contempt for your fellow man."

     "Well, I'll be damned," the drunk muttered, returning to his paper.

     The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and 
apologized.  "I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to come on so strong. How long 
have you had arthritis?"

     "I don't have it, Father. I was just reading that the Pope does."