There are many popular subjects when it comes to dirty jokes; blondes, teachers, priests, police, lewd situations – and nuns. The latter group is known for being quite prudish, but that’s seldom the case in the world of jokes.
This funny story is about 4 hilarious nuns who die and go to Heaven – and the last line made me double over with laughter!
Make sure to read all the way to the end – then share it with your friends!
Funny story
A bus full of nuns falls of a cliff and they all die. They arrive at the gates of Heaven and meet St. Peter.
St. Peter says to them, “Sisters, welcome to Heaven. In a moment I will let you all though the Pearly Gates, but before I may do that, I must ask each of you a single question. Please form a single-file line.”
And they do so.
St. Peter turns to the first nun in line, Elsa, and asks her, “Sister, have you ever seen a penis?”
Elsa replies, “Well, there was this one time… that I kinda sorta… saw one out of the corner of my eye…”
St. Peter says, “I see. Okay sister, now dip your head in the Holy Water with your eyes open, and you may be admitted.”
She does so, and is let into Heaven.
St. Peter now turns to the second nun, Aurora, and says, “Sister, have you ever touched a penis?”
“Well…. there was this one time… that I held one for a moment…”
“Alright sister, now just wash your hands in the Holy Water, and you may be admitted.”
She does so, and is let into Heaven.
Cuts in line
Now at this, there is a noise, a jostling in the line. It seems that one nun is trying to cut in front of another!
St. Peter sees this and asks the nun, “Sister Maria, what is this? There’s no rush!”
Sister Maria replies, “Well, if I’m going to have to gargle this stuff, I’d rather do it before Sister Susan sticks her ass in it!”
Don’t be shy, press the share button if you smiled – I’m sure you have a friend who could use a laugh today!
BONUS STORY
l had to share this, it made me laugh out loud
“Why Women Are Crabby!”
We started to ‘bud’ in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find that anything that came in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurt so bad it brought us to tears. So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.
Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got the hormone crankies, had to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn’t even know we had.
Our next little rite of passage was having sex for the first time which was about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it right and didn’t end up with his little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.
Then it was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry crackers and water for a few months so we didn’t spend the entire day leaning over Brother John. Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have Rosemary’s Baby.
Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a whole watermelon and we pee’d our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and we had to waddle, with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain, all the way to the ER.
Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says, ‘Please stop screaming, Mrs. Hearmeroar. Calm down and push. ‘Just one more good push’ (more like 10), warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the %$#*@*#!* hubby and doctor square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10 pound bowling ball through a keyhole.
After that, it was time to raise those angels, only to find that when all that ‘cute’ wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.
Then come their ‘Teen Years.’ Need I say more?
When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our early 40’s – while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday.
So we progress into the grand finale: ‘The Menopause,’ the Grandmother of all womanhood. It’s either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned ‘buds’ or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.
Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when men get off so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life’s cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks…
So, while I love being a woman, ‘Womanhood’ would make the Great Gandhi a tad crabby. You think women are the ‘weaker sex?’ Yeah right. Bite me.
Don’t be shy, press the share button if you smiled – I’m sure you have a friend who could use a laugh today!
