Cafeoutdoors.com: Were All Going To Hell Anyway

A priest took a vacation to a fishing lodge. On the last day of his trip, he hooked a monster fish and began fighting it. A few minutes later the guide, holding a landing net, yelled, "look at the size of that Son of a biatch!"

"Please, my son, I'm a priest. Your language is uncalled for." "No, Father, you don't understand" explained the guide, "That's the species of fish you have on; it's called a 'Son of a biatch' fish!" "Really?" asked the surprised priest, "Well then, would you please net the Son of a biatch?"

Once the fish was aboard, the guide marveled at its size. "Father, that's the biggest Son of a biatch I've ever seen!"

"It really IS a big Son of a biatch" the priest beamed, "What should I do with it?" "Why, eat it of course. I promise, you've never tasted anything as good as one of these Sons of Bitches!"

Elated, the priest headed home. While unloading his fishing tackle and prize catch at the church's back door, Sister Mary appeared and inquired about his trip.

"Take a look at this huge Son of a biatch I caught!" the priest gushed, opening his ice chest. Sister Mary gasped and clutched her rosary, "Father, such language from a priest!"

"It's Okay, Sister. According to my guide, that's the species of fish this one is: it's called a Son of a biatch fish."

"Oh, well then...what are you going to do with that huge Son of a biatch?"

"Eat it! My guide said they're great!"

Sister Mary then informed the priest that the Pope was scheduled to visit in a few days. "Why don't I clean that Son of a biatch for you, and we'll cook it for this special occasion", she volunteered.

On the night of the Pope's visit, everything went perfectly. The wine was fine, the fish excellent.

The Pope leaned back from his plate and said, "This is absolutely marvelous fish, where did you buy it?"

"We didn't buy it, Your Holiness; I caught that Son of a biatch!" proclaimed the proud priest.

The Pope's eyes opened wide, but he said nothing. "And I cleaned and cooked the Son of a biatch!", exclaimed the Sister.

The Pope looked silently at each of them. Glancing around the dining room, he saw they were alone. A big grin spread across his face as he leaned across the table and whispered, "Go get us some more wine. You motherfckers are my kind of people!"

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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."

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