The Reverend John Fuzz was a pastor of a small congregation in a little
Pennsylvania town. One day, walking down Main St., he noticed a female
member of his congregation sitting in the town bar, drinking beer. The
reverend thought this was sinful and not something a member of his
congregation should do. He walked through the open door of the bar and sat
down next to the woman. "Mrs. Fitzgerald," the reverend said sternly. "This
is no place for a member of my congregation. Why don't you let me take you
"Sure," she said with a slur, obviously very drunk. When Mrs.
Fitzgerald stood up from the bar, she began to weave back and forth. The
reverend realized that she had had too much to drink 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 seconds, the reverend wound up laying
on top of Mrs. Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.
The bartender looked over the bar and said, "Here, here buddy, we won't
have any of that carrying around in this bar!"
The reverend looked up at the bartender and said, "But you don't
understand, I'm Pastor Fuzz."
The bartender nodded and said, "Hell then, if you're that far in, you
might as well finish up."