Strange Fish!. 29/4/06
Posted: 29 Apr 2006, 10:59
Out fishing with a sailor friend, a Priest hooks a huge Fish.
Helping him reel it in, the sailor says,"Whoa, look at the size of that f**ker!".
"Hey, mind you language!" says the Priest. Embarrassed, the Sailor thinks quickly and bursts out. "Sorry Father, but that's what type of Fish this is, it's a f**ker Fish!".
Accepting the explanation, the Priest forgives the Sailor and takes the Fish back to Church.
"Look at this huge f**ker", says the Priest, spotting the Bishop.
"Language please, this is God's House", replies the Bishop.
"No, no - that's what the fish is called, it's a f**ker Fish!", replies the Priest.
"Oh!", says the Bishop, scratching his Head. "I could clean that f**ker 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**ker for dinner tonight?", he asks her.
"My, what language!", exclaims the Mother Superior, clearly shocked.
"No Sister, that's what the Fish is called - it's a f**ker Fish!", says the Bishop.
Satisfied with the explanation, the Mother Superior says,"Wonderful, I'll cook that f**ker tonight, the Pope is coming round for Dinner!".
The Fish tastes great and the Pope asks where they got it.
"Well I caught the f**ker!", says the priest.
"And I cleaned the f**ker!", says the Bishop.
"And I cooked the f**ker!", says the Mother Superior.
The Pope stares at them for a minute with a steely gaze, leans back in his chair, takes his hat off, puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whisky, rolls a spliff and says, "You know what?, you c**t's are alright".
Helping him reel it in, the sailor says,"Whoa, look at the size of that f**ker!".
"Hey, mind you language!" says the Priest. Embarrassed, the Sailor thinks quickly and bursts out. "Sorry Father, but that's what type of Fish this is, it's a f**ker Fish!".
Accepting the explanation, the Priest forgives the Sailor and takes the Fish back to Church.
"Look at this huge f**ker", says the Priest, spotting the Bishop.
"Language please, this is God's House", replies the Bishop.
"No, no - that's what the fish is called, it's a f**ker Fish!", replies the Priest.
"Oh!", says the Bishop, scratching his Head. "I could clean that f**ker 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**ker for dinner tonight?", he asks her.
"My, what language!", exclaims the Mother Superior, clearly shocked.
"No Sister, that's what the Fish is called - it's a f**ker Fish!", says the Bishop.
Satisfied with the explanation, the Mother Superior says,"Wonderful, I'll cook that f**ker tonight, the Pope is coming round for Dinner!".
The Fish tastes great and the Pope asks where they got it.
"Well I caught the f**ker!", says the priest.
"And I cleaned the f**ker!", says the Bishop.
"And I cooked the f**ker!", says the Mother Superior.
The Pope stares at them for a minute with a steely gaze, leans back in his chair, takes his hat off, puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whisky, rolls a spliff and says, "You know what?, you c**t's are alright".
