A man goes up to the minister in a local church. "Reverend," he said, we have a problem. My wife keeps falling asleep during your sermons. It's very embarrassing, not to mention disrespectful. What should I do?"
I've noticed this and have an idea if you're up to the task," said the minister. "Take this hatpin with you. I will be able to tell when Mrs. Jones is sleeping, and I will motion to you at specific times. When I motion, you give her a good poke in the leg."
In church the following Sunday, Mrs. Jones dozed off. Noticing this, the preacher put his plan to work. "And who made the ultimate sacrifice for you?" he said, nodding to Mr. Jones.
Jesus!" Mrs. Jones cried out as her husband jabbed her in the leg with the sharp object.
Yes, you are correct, Mrs. Jones!" came the minister's quick reply.
Soon, Mrs. Jones nodded off again. And again, the minister noticed.
"Who is your Redeemer?" he asked the congregation, motioning toward Mr. Jones.
"My God!" howled Mrs. Jones as she was stuck again with the pin.
"Right again!" bellowed the minister, a slight grin on his face.
Before long, Mrs. Jones nodded off again. However, this time the minister did not notice. As he picked up the tempo of his sermon, he made a few hand gestures that Mr. Jones mistook as signals to bayonet his wife with the hatpin yet again.
The minister asked, "And what did Eve say to Adam after she bore him his 99th son?"
As Mr. Jones enthusiastically poked his wife's thigh with the hatpin piercing her skin she screamed, "You stick that thing in me one more time and I'll break it in half and shove it up your ass!"
"Amen!" replied all the women in the congregation.



There was an old priest who got sick of all the people in his parish confessing to adultery.
One Sunday, in the pulpit, he said, "If I hear one more person confess to adultery, I'll quit!"
Well, everyone liked him, so they came up with a code word. Someone who had committed adultery would say instead that they had 'fallen.'
This seemed to satisfy the old priest and things went well until the priest passed away at a ripe old age.
A few days after the new priest arrived, he visited the mayor of the town and seemed very concerned.
"Mayor, you have to do something about the sidewalks in town. When people come into the confessional, they keep telling me they've fallen."
The mayor started to laugh, realizing that no one had told the new priest about the code word. But, before he could explain, the priest shook an accusing finger at him and shouted, "I don't know what you're laughing about, because your wife has fallen three times this week!"



The Beer Prayer
Our lager,
Which art in barrels,
Hallowed be thy drink,
Thy will be drunk,
(I will be drunk),
At home as I am in the tavern.
Give us this day our foamy head,
And forgive us our spillages,
As we forgive those who spill against us,
And lead us not to incarceration,
But deliver us from hangovers,
for thine is the beer,
The bitter and the lager,
Forever and ever,
Barmen


During a sermon, the preacher says to his congregation, "The Bible covers everything. I challenge anyone to name a subject I can't find in the Good Book."
A woman in a back pew raised her hand and asks, "What about PMS?" Caught by surprise, the preacher nervously thumbs through the Bible before exclaiming, "Oh here it is: 'And Mary rode Joseph's ass all the way to Bethlehem.'"



New IRS auditor, eager to make a name for himself, decided to review the tax returns of the local synagogue. He proceeded to interrogate the Rabbi, asking him what the Synagogue did with the wax drippings from the Shabbat, Havdallah and Chanukah candles.
The Rabbi, pleased to show the auditor that nothing went to waste, responded that the used wax is collected and sent to a candle factory and they send the Temple new candles.
What about the crumbs from the matzah you eat at Passover? Asked the IRS auditor.
Simple, the Rabbi responded. We collect all the crumbs, send them to the matzah bakery and they send us matzah meal.
All right, said the auditor, refusing to give up. I know that you`re a moyel as well as a Rabbi. What do you do with the leftovers from the circumcisions?
Easy, said the Rabbi. We send them to Washington, DC and they send us little pricks like you.