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Archiver > Scotch-Irish > 1998-02 > 0886775962


From: gwen koda <>
Subject: [Fwd: I hate to admit I laughed!]
Date: Fri, 06 Feb 1998 08:39:22 -0600


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Date: Fri, 06 Feb 1998 07:52:43 -0600
From: poettennis <>
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To: Diana M Tennis <>
CC: , "Koda, Gwen" <>, ,
"Gasser, Ann" <>,
"Galbreath, Twyla" <>,
"Downen, Karen" <>
Subject: I hate to admit I laughed!
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The bartender was washing his glasses, and an elderly
Irishman came in and, with great difficulty, hoisted
his bad leg over the barstool, pulled himself up
painfully, and asked for a sip of Irish whiskey. The
Irishman looked down the bar and said, "Is that Jesus
down there?" The bartender nodded, and the Irishman
told him to give Jesus an Irish whiskey also.

The next patron was an ailing Italian with a hunched
back and slowness of movement. He shuffled up to the
barstool and asked for a glass of Chianti. He also
looked down the bar and asked if that was Jesus sitting
down there. The bartender nodded, and the Italian said
to give Him a glass of Chianti, also.

The third patron, an Alabaman, swaggered in dragging his
knuckles on the floor and hollered, "Barkeep, set me up a
cold one. Hey, is that God's Boy down there?" The barkeep
nodded, and the redneck told him to give Jesus a cold one,
too.

As Jesus got up to leave, he walked over to the Irishman
and touched him and said, "For your kindness, you are
healed!" The Irishman felt the strength come back to his
leg, and he got up and danced a jig out the door.

Jesus touched the Italian and said, "For your kindness,
you are healed!" The Italian felt his back straighten,
and he raised his hands above his head and did a flip out
the door.

Jesus walked toward the Alabaman, and the Alabaman jumped
back and exclaimed, "Don't touch me! I'm drawin' disability!"

***********************

Is it better or worse that this was dreamed up by
an Alabaman?? Love ya, Donna

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