The Reverend John Fluff was the pastor of a small
town in Ireland.
One day he was walking down the high street, when he
noticed a young lady of his congregation sitting in a pub drinking
beer.
The Reverend wasn't happy. He walked through the open door of the
pub and sat down next to the woman.
"Miss Fitzgerald", he said sternly. "This is no place for a member
of my congregation.
Why don't you let me take you home?"
"Sure", she said with a slur, obviously very drunk.
When Miss Fitzgerald stood up from the bar she began to weave back
and forth.
The Reverend realized that she'd had far too much to drink and
grabbed her arms to steady her.
When he did, they both lost their balance and tumbled to the floor.
After rolling around for a few moments, the Reverend wound up on
top of Miss Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.
The pub landlord looked over and said, "Oi mate, we won't have any
of that carrying on in this pub."
The Reverend looked up at the landlord and said "But you don't
understand, "I'm Pastor Fluff.
The landlord nodded and said, "Oh well, if you're that far in, you
might as well finish.
