. . . a young girl talked to a Priest after one Sunday
School.

" Father, I called a man a son-of-a-bitch yesterday. "

" Why did you call him a son-of-a-bitch ? ? " the priest
asked.

" Because, Father, he touched me on my arm without
permission. "

" Do you mean like this ? ? " he touches her arm.

" Yes Father. "

" That's no reason for calling him a son-of-a-bitch. "

" But Father he also touched my breasts. "

" You mean like this ? ? " the priest touches her breasts.

" Yes Father. "

" That's no reason to call him a son-of-a-bitch. "

" But Father he took off my clothes. "

" Like this ? ? " he took off her clothes.

" Yes Father. "

" That's no reason to call him son-of-a-bitch. "

" But Father he then put his You-Know-What in my
You-Know-Where. "

" Like this ? ? " , he then put his you-know-waht into her
you-know-where. "

" . . . . . . . . . . Yyeesss . . . . Father, " she said later.

" But that's no reason to call him a son-of-a-bitch. "

" But Father, he has got AIDS. "

" THAT SON-OF-A-BITCH . . ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! "