"My Son, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women,too much alcohol and a contempt for your fellow man, sleeping around with prostitutes and lack of bath."
"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 youhad arthritis?"
"I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does."