Fish on Friday
Posted: Wed Jul 18, 2012 6:54 pm
On a fishing trip............
A priest hooks a huge fish. Helping him reel it in, an angler says
"Whoa, look at the size of that f*cker!"
"Hey, mind your language!" says the priest.
Embarrassed, the angler thinks quickly and blurts out,
"Sorry father, but that's what this fish is called - it's a F*cker fish"
Accepting the explanation, the priest forgives the angler and takes the
fish back to church.
"Look at this huge f*cker" says the priest, spotting the bishop.
"Language please! This is god's house," replies the bishop.
"No, no - that's what this fish is called," says the priest.
"Oh," says the bishop, scratching his chin
"I could clean that f*cker and we could have it for dinner"..
So the bishop takes the fish, cleans it, and brings it to the mother
superior.
"Could you cook this f*cker for dinner tonight?" he asks her.
"My, what language!" she exclaims, clearly shocked.
"No, sister that's what the fish is called - a f*cker" says the bishop.
Satisfied with the explanation, the mother superior says,
"Wonderful, I'll cook that f*cker tonight, the pope is coming for dinner!"
The fish tastes just great and the pope asks where they got it.
"Well, I caught the f*cker!" says the priest.
"And I cleaned the f*cker!" says the bishop.
"And I cooked the f*cker!" says the mother superior.
The pope stares at them for a minute with a steely glaze,
leans back on his chair, takes off his cap,
puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whiskey and says
"You know what? You c*nts are alright."
A priest hooks a huge fish. Helping him reel it in, an angler says
"Whoa, look at the size of that f*cker!"
"Hey, mind your language!" says the priest.
Embarrassed, the angler thinks quickly and blurts out,
"Sorry father, but that's what this fish is called - it's a F*cker fish"
Accepting the explanation, the priest forgives the angler and takes the
fish back to church.
"Look at this huge f*cker" says the priest, spotting the bishop.
"Language please! This is god's house," replies the bishop.
"No, no - that's what this fish is called," says the priest.
"Oh," says the bishop, scratching his chin
"I could clean that f*cker and we could have it for dinner"..
So the bishop takes the fish, cleans it, and brings it to the mother
superior.
"Could you cook this f*cker for dinner tonight?" he asks her.
"My, what language!" she exclaims, clearly shocked.
"No, sister that's what the fish is called - a f*cker" says the bishop.
Satisfied with the explanation, the mother superior says,
"Wonderful, I'll cook that f*cker tonight, the pope is coming for dinner!"
The fish tastes just great and the pope asks where they got it.
"Well, I caught the f*cker!" says the priest.
"And I cleaned the f*cker!" says the bishop.
"And I cooked the f*cker!" says the mother superior.
The pope stares at them for a minute with a steely glaze,
leans back on his chair, takes off his cap,
puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whiskey and says
"You know what? You c*nts are alright."
