A priest hooks a huge fish
Helping him reel it in, a sailor says βWhoa, look at the size of that fucker!β.
βHey, mind your language!β says the priest.
Embarrassed, the sailor thinks quickly and blurts out, βSorry father, but thatβs what this fish is called, itβs a Fucker fishβ.
Accepting the explanation, the priest forgives the sailor and takes the fish back to church.
βLook at this huge fuckerβ says the priest, spotting the bishop.
βLanguage, please! this is Godβs house,β replies the bishop.
βNo, no thatβs what this fish is called, βsays the priest.
βOh,β says the bishop, scratching his chin βI could clean that fucker and we could have it for dinnerβ.
So the bishop takes the fish, cleans it, and brings it to the mother superior.
βCould you cook this fucker for dinner tonight?β he asks her.
βMy, what language!β she exclaims, clearly shocked.
βNo, sister thatβs what the fish is called - a fuckerβ, says the bishop.
Satisfied with the explanation, the mother superior says, βWonderful, Iβll cook that fucker tonight, The Pope is coming for dinner!β
The fish tastes just great and The Pope asks where they got it.
βWell, I caught the fucker!β says the priest.
βAnd I cleaned the fucker!β says the bishop.
βAnd I cooked the fucker!β says the mother superior.
The Pope stares at them for a minute with a steely glaze, leans back on his chair, takes off his cap, puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whiskey and says:β You know what?, You cunts are alright.β
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
kianamaiart
discoholicmusic
germansingergirl
izzy806
blakekathryn
