The communist took a deep breath and quickly said, “G-o-d.” No sooner had he finished than once again the trumpets sounded and the great choir of angels sang out. The Pearly Gates opened and the communist happily entered heaven.
The black Southern Baptist immediately threw himself on the ground, started crying and beating his chest: “Oh, Saint Peter, it is no good! I’ve been a wicked man, drinkin’ and runnin’ with loose women. But I’ve been to church every Sunday and I reads the good book!”
Saint Peter looked at the black man and smiled, “All right, brother, God is great and forgiving. To enter through these gates all you have to do is spell Engelbert Humperdinck!”
A monk from a Catholic monastery wrote to his mother, “On cold mornings I often miss the old pot under the bed.”
She wrote back, “On cold mornings you often missed it at home too!”
Third, and the last:
Sister Mary was taking tea to Mother Superior. When she reached Mother Superior’s room she bumped the tray and spilt the tea.
“Oh, shit!” Sister Mary said. “I spilt the tea…oh damn, I said shit…oh Christ, I said damn…oh fuck, I said Christ!”
Enough for today.