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A man is struck by a bus on a busy street in New York City.
He lies dying on the sidewalk as a crowd of on-lookers
gathersaround. "A priest. Somebody get me a priest!" the man
gasps. A policeman checks the crowd----no priest, no
minister, no man of God of anykind. "A PRIEST, PLEASE!" the
dying man says again. Then out of the crowd steps a little
old man dressed shabbily and of at least eighty years of
age.
"Mr. Policeman," says the man, "I'm not a priest. I'm not
even a Catholic. But for fifty years now I've been living
behind St. Elizabeth's Catholic Church on First Avenue, and
every night I'm listening to the Catholic litany. Maybe I
can be of some comfort tothis man."
The policeman agrees and brings the octogenarian over to
where the dying man lay.
He kneels down, leans over the injured man and says slowly
in a solemn voice:"B-4. I-19. N-38. G-54. O-72..."
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Jokes are from my database at http://www.johnsjokepage.com
No guarantee that they'll be funny. No guarantee you haven't heard them.
If you don't like them, just filter out my name. Don't complain to me.
If you have one you like, come to my page and add it. The only purpose
of these jokes is my own enjoyment but I hope you like them anyhow.
Oh yeah. One more thing. Since these come out of the database randomly, if
you posted a joke on Tuesday and I post the same on on Thursday, it's just coincidence.
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