Slay.me

There were two Catholic boys, Timothy Murphy and Antonio Secola, whose lives parallel each other in amazing ways. In the  same year  Timothy was born in Ireland , Antonio was born in Italy.

Faithfully they attended parochial School from kindergarten through their senior year in high school. They took their vows to enter the priesthood early in college, and upon graduation, became priests.

Their careers had come to amaze the world, but it was generally acknowledged that Antonio Secola was just a cut above Timothy Murphy in all respects.

Their rise through the ranks of Bishop, Archbishop and finally Cardinal was swift to say the least, and the Catholic world knew that when  the present Pope died, it would be one of the two who would become the Next  Pope.

In time the Pope did die, and the College of Cardinals went to work.

In less time than anyone had expected, white smoke rose from the chimney and the world waited to see whom they had chosen.

The world, Catholic, Protestant and secular, was surprised to learn that Timothy Murphy had been elected Pope!

Antonio Secola was beyond surprise. He was devastated, because even with all of Timothy’s gifts, Antonio knew he was the better qualified.

With gall that shocked the Cardinals, Antonio Secola asked for a private session with them in which he candidly asked, “Why Timothy?”

After a long silence, an old Cardinal took pity on the bewildered man and rose to reply.

“We knew you were the better of the two, but we just  could not bear the thought of the leader of the Roman Catholic Church being called POPE SECOLA.

A guy is sitting at a bar just staring at his drink for half an hour when this big, trouble-making biker steps next to him, grabs his drink, gulps it down in one swig and then turns to the guy with a menacing stare as if to say, ‘

What’cha gonna do about it?”

The poor little guy starts crying.

“Come on man, I was just giving you a hard time,” the biker says. “I didn’t think you’d  CRY. I can’t stand to see a man crying.”

“This is the worst day of my life,” says the little guy between sobs. “I can’t do anything right. I overslept and was late to an important meeting, so my boss fired me. When I went to the parking lot, I found my car was stolen and I don’t have any insurance. I left my wallet in  the cab I took home.”  He continues, crying even harder. “Then I found my wife in bed with the gardener and my dog bit me. So, I came to this bar trying to work up the courage to put an end to my life, and then you show up and drank the damn poison.”

No matter what this husband did in bed, his wife never achieved an orgasm..

Since a Jewish wife is entitled to sexual pleasure, they decide to consult their Rabbi. The Rabbi listens to their story, strokes his beard, and makes the following suggestion:

‘Hire a strapping young man. While the two of you are making love, have the young man wave a towel over you.

That will help your wife fantasize and should bring on an orgasm..’

They go home and follow the Rabbi’s advice. They hire a handsome young man and he waves a towel over them as they make love. It does not help and the wife is still unsatisfied. Perplexed, they go back to the Rabbi.

‘Okay,’ he says to the husband, ‘Try it reversed. Have the young man make love to your wife and you wave the towel over them.’

Once again, they follow the Rabbi’s advice. They go home and hire, the same strapping young man. The young man gets into bed with the wife and the husband waves the towel.

The young man gets to work with great enthusiasm and soon she has an enormous, room-shaking, ear-splitting screaming orgasm. The husband smiles, looks at the young man and says to him triumphantly,

‘See that, you schmuck? THAT’S how you wave a towel!!