Pacific Lure
Active member
Late one Saturday night, after a long and difficult day of visiting hospitals, nursing homes and elderly members of the congregation, a Southern Baptist preacher was making his weary way home. As he traveled the hilly, curving country road, he overtook a car. The slow moving car was weaving from one side of the road to the other in a most disturbing manner. Being familiar with most residents of the area he recognized the car as belonging to a member of his congregation.
"Oh no," said the preacher to himself, "Frank Johnson has fallen off the wagon again. The way that car is weaving, he must be really plastered. I better pull up beside him and get him to stop before he hurts himself."
Putting thought to action, the preacher pulled along side Frank's car just in time for the next swerve to run him off the road. Over the shoulder, down a steep bank, the preacher's car rolled over twice and came to rest against a large pine tree. Not completely senseless to the world, Frank stopped his car and staggered back to a point above the preacher's car.
Fortunately, the preacher had been using a seat belt. That and the relatively slow speed had prevented any injury. When Frank saw someone struggling out of the wrecked car, he yelled, "Who the hell are you?"
The preacher yelled back, "Frank Johnson, don't you talk to me like that."
"My God preacher, that you?"
"Yes Frank, it is, and I'll thank you not to take the Lord's name in vain. It's already bad enough that you're drunk."
"You OK preacher?"
"Yes Frank, fortunately the Lord was with me."
"You better let him ride with me. Way you drive, you gonna kill him."
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[FONT=Verdana,]The Pope arrives at the JFK airport and he's met at the baggage claim area by a driver in a bad suit and a clip-on tie, holding a hand-lettered sign that says, "Pope."
After getting all the Pope's luggage loaded in the limo (and His Holiness doesn't travel light), the driver notices that the Pope is still standing on the curb.
"Hey, Mr. Pope," says the driver in accented English, "Why have you not seated yourself in the excellent limo?"
"Well, to tell you the truth," says the Pope, "They never let me drive at the Vatican, and I'd really like to drive."
"That is very much against the rules!" protested the driver, wishing he'd never left Calcutta.
"There might be something extra in it for you," said the Pope.
Reluctantly, the driver got in the back seat as the Pope got in the front behind the wheel. The driver quickly regretted his decision when, after clearing the airport, the Pope accelerated the limo to 105 mph.
"Please be driving not so rapidly, Mr. Pope," pleaded the worried driver, but the Pope kept the pedal to the metal. Then they heard the siren.
"Oh, my God, now I am surely losing my license," moaned the driver.
The Pope pulled over and rolled down the window as the patrolman approached, but the cop took one look at him, quickly went back to his motorcycle, and got on the radio.
"I need to talk to the Chief," he said to the dispatch.
When the Chief got on the radio, the cop told him that he'd stopped a limo going a hundred and five.
"So bust him," said the Chief.
"I think the guy's a big shot," said the cop.
"All the more reason."
"No, I mean really a big shot," said the cop.
"What'd ya got there, the Mayor?"
"Bigger."
"Governor."
"Bigger."
"Well," said the Chief, "Who is it?"
"I don't know," said the cop. "But he's got the Pope driving for him."
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"Oh no," said the preacher to himself, "Frank Johnson has fallen off the wagon again. The way that car is weaving, he must be really plastered. I better pull up beside him and get him to stop before he hurts himself."
Putting thought to action, the preacher pulled along side Frank's car just in time for the next swerve to run him off the road. Over the shoulder, down a steep bank, the preacher's car rolled over twice and came to rest against a large pine tree. Not completely senseless to the world, Frank stopped his car and staggered back to a point above the preacher's car.
Fortunately, the preacher had been using a seat belt. That and the relatively slow speed had prevented any injury. When Frank saw someone struggling out of the wrecked car, he yelled, "Who the hell are you?"
The preacher yelled back, "Frank Johnson, don't you talk to me like that."
"My God preacher, that you?"
"Yes Frank, it is, and I'll thank you not to take the Lord's name in vain. It's already bad enough that you're drunk."
"You OK preacher?"
"Yes Frank, fortunately the Lord was with me."
"You better let him ride with me. Way you drive, you gonna kill him."
[FONT=Verdana,][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,]The Pope arrives at the JFK airport and he's met at the baggage claim area by a driver in a bad suit and a clip-on tie, holding a hand-lettered sign that says, "Pope."
After getting all the Pope's luggage loaded in the limo (and His Holiness doesn't travel light), the driver notices that the Pope is still standing on the curb.
"Hey, Mr. Pope," says the driver in accented English, "Why have you not seated yourself in the excellent limo?"
"Well, to tell you the truth," says the Pope, "They never let me drive at the Vatican, and I'd really like to drive."
"That is very much against the rules!" protested the driver, wishing he'd never left Calcutta.
"There might be something extra in it for you," said the Pope.
Reluctantly, the driver got in the back seat as the Pope got in the front behind the wheel. The driver quickly regretted his decision when, after clearing the airport, the Pope accelerated the limo to 105 mph.
"Please be driving not so rapidly, Mr. Pope," pleaded the worried driver, but the Pope kept the pedal to the metal. Then they heard the siren.
"Oh, my God, now I am surely losing my license," moaned the driver.
The Pope pulled over and rolled down the window as the patrolman approached, but the cop took one look at him, quickly went back to his motorcycle, and got on the radio.
"I need to talk to the Chief," he said to the dispatch.
When the Chief got on the radio, the cop told him that he'd stopped a limo going a hundred and five.
"So bust him," said the Chief.
"I think the guy's a big shot," said the cop.
"All the more reason."
"No, I mean really a big shot," said the cop.
"What'd ya got there, the Mayor?"
"Bigger."
"Governor."
"Bigger."
"Well," said the Chief, "Who is it?"
"I don't know," said the cop. "But he's got the Pope driving for him."
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