Nun Jokes

Tricking Nun

A hippie gets onto a bus and sits next to a nun in the front seat. The hippie looks over and asks the nun if she would have sex with him.

The nun, surprised by the question, politely declines and gets off at the next stop. When the bus starts again, the bus driver says to the hippie, "If you want, I can tell you how you can get that nun to have sex with you."

The hippie of course says that he'd love to know, so the bus driver tells him that every Tuesday evening at midnight the nun goes to the cemetery to pray to the lord. "If you went dressed in robes and some glowing powder," says the bus driver, "You could tell her you were God and command her to have sex with you."

The hippie decides to try this out. That Tuesday, he goes to the cemetery and waits for the nun. Right on schedule, the nun shows up. While she's in the middle of praying, the hippie walks out from hiding, in robes and glowing with a mask of god. "I am God, I have heard your prayers and I will answer them but you must have sex with me first," he says.

The nun agrees but asks for anal sex so she might keep her virginity. The hippie agrees to this and quickly sets about having sex with the nun.

After the hippie finishes, he rips off his mask and shouts out, "Ha ha, I'm the hippie! "

The nun replies by whipping off her mask and shouting, "Ha ha, I'm the bus driver!"

The Christmas Carol of the Birds by Mrs. G. Hall

Do you know, when we are having such good times at Christmas, what sweet music they have in Norway, that cold country across the sea? One day in the year the simple peasants who live there make the birds very happy, so that they sing, of their own free-will, a glad, joyous carol on Christmas morning.

And this is why they sing on that morning more than on any other. After the birds have found shelter from the north wind on Christmas-eve, and the night is still and bright with stars, or even if the storm be ever so severe, the good people bring out sheaves of corn and wheat from their storehouses. Tying them on slender poles, they raise them from every spire, barn, gatepost, and gable; then, when the Christmas sun rises over the hills, every spire and gable bursts forth into joyous song.

You can well believe that these songs of the birds make the people of Norway very happy. They echo, with all their hearts, their living, grateful anthem, "Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good-will to men!"

Top 10 signs your partner needs a vacation

1) He keeps handcuffing himself by accident.

2) He is starting to develop a crush on one of the transvestite hookers he arrested.

3) He wants to transfer to a K-9 unit because he thinks he'd look good in a collar.

4) He talks to himself. Half of him is the "good cop", and the other half is the "bad cop."

5) He wants you to call him "Judge Dredd", and he insists that all suspects should be executed right there on the spot.

6) He keeps asking you if his bullet proof vest makes him look fat.

7) He is exchanging donut recipes with complete strangers.

8) The perpetrators beg him to stop talking about his hemorrhoids.

9) Every Tuesday he insists it's his turn to be the siren.

10) He wants to hear less talk and more music on the police channel.

THE BLACK PARADE

BLACK PARADE

When I was
A young boy,
My father
Took me into the city
To see a marching band.
He said,
“Son when
You grow up,
Would you be
The savior of the broken,
The beaten and the damned?”
He said
“Will you
Defeat them,
You demons,
And all the non believers,
The plans that they have made?
Because one day
I’ll leave you,
A phantom
To lead you in the summer,
To join the black parade.”

When I was,
A young boy
My father, took me into the city
To see a marching band
He said, “Son when you grow up,
will you be the savior of the broken,
the beaten and the damned?”

Sometimes I get the feeling, she’s watching over me
And other times I feel like I should go
Went through it all, the rise and fall
The bodies in the streets
And when you’re gone we want you all to know

We’ll carry on, We’ll carry on
And though you’re all dead and gone believe me
Your memory will carry on
We’ll carry on
And in my heart I can’t contain it
The anthem won’t explain it

A woman sends you reeling from decimated dreams
Your misery and hate will kill us all
So paint it black and take it back
Let’s shout out loud and clear
Defiant to the end we hear the call