When Honesty, Flatulence, and Faith Collide — You’ll Laugh Out Loud! - NewzTimes21.com

When Honesty, Flatulence, and Faith Collide — You’ll Laugh Out Loud!

On a flight back from Switzerland, an elegant woman sat beside a kind-looking priest. After some polite conversation, she leaned over and whispered, “Father, would you mind helping me with something a bit… delicate?” The priest smiled and replied, “Of course, my child. How can I assist?” She explained that she had purchased an expensive hair removal device over the customs allowance and asked if he could hide it under his robe. The priest agreed but warned, “I can carry it, but I must tell you—I cannot tell a lie.” Confident in his trustworthy appearance, she laughed and assured him no one would question him.

Later, at customs, the officer asked, “Anything to declare, Father?” The priest calmly replied, “From my head down to my waist, nothing to declare.” Intrigued, the officer pressed, “And from your waist down?” The priest answered, “Well, there’s something quite special down there. It’s a small device made for ladies, never before used.” Flustered, the officer turned red, laughed, and waved him through, saying, “Move along, Father… and good luck.”

Little Johnny was dragging a heavily loaded red wagon to his dad’s house, struggling up a steep hill. Frustrated, he grumbled, “Ugh! This stupid thing is heavy!” A nearby priest scolded him, “Johnny, mind your language. The Lord hears everything—He’s everywhere.” Johnny wiped his brow and asked, “Everywhere?” The priest nodded, “Yes, in the church, the trees, even walking beside you.” Johnny glanced back at his wagon and said, “Is He in my wagon too?” The priest chuckled, “Yes, Johnny. He’s there too.” Without hesitation, Johnny shouted, “Well, tell Him to get out and help push already!”

I was on a bus when a stylish woman, drenched in luxurious perfume, sat beside me. Curious, I asked, “Excuse me, your perfume is amazing—what is it?” She smiled, “It’s Chanel. Straight from Paris.” We rode in silence until I discreetly passed gas. She winced and waved her hand, exclaiming, “Oh my heavens! What is that smell?” Unfazed, I replied, “Garlic. I’m from Gilroy, California—the garlic capital of the world.”

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