The pope and a lawyer die at precisely the same moment and arrive before the pearly gates. Looking at his book, Saint Peter welcomes them both to heaven and asks if it would alright if they shared a ride to their eternal resting places. Agreeing, they get into a golf cart with Saint Peter and drive off down the streets of heaven. Driving through a neighborhood of the most spectacular mansions, Saint Peter stops the cart in front of the largest one in the area. Massive, with guilded gold trim around the windows, a manicured lawn with gorgeous statues and a fountain, magnificent in every way. Saint Peter said to the lawyer, “This is where you will be spending eternity, welcome.” He thanked Saint Peter and walked into his home. “Oh my,” thought the Pope, “If that is where a lawyer lives, imagine where I’ll be.” Saint Peter drives off and after a few turns, stops in front of a non-descript, little row house in the middle of a block and says to the Pope, “And this is where you will be spending the afterlife.” Stunned, the Pope says, “Saint Peter, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but in my life I was Pope. I dedicated my life to serving God and leading his flock. After that, I get this house and a lawyer gets that one?” Saint Peter looks at him and says, “Up here in heaven, we’ve got plenty of Popes, but lawyers?”
A man was getting a haircut prior to a trip to Rome. He mentioned the trip to the barber who responded, “Rome? Why would anyone want to go there?
It’s crowded & dirty and full of Italians. You’re crazy to go to Rome.
So, how are you getting there?”
“We’re taking Delta,” was the reply. “We got a great rate!”
“Delta?” exclaimed the barber. “That’s a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they’re always late.
So, where are you staying in Rome?”
“We’ll be at the downtown International Marriott.”
“That dump! That’s the worst hotel in the city. The rooms are small, the service is surly and they’re overpriced. So, whatcha doing when you get there?”
“We’re going to go to see the Vatican and we hope to see the Pope.”
“That’s rich,” laughed the barber. “You and a million other people trying to see him. He’ll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You’re going to need it.”
A month later, the man again came in for his regular haircut. The barber asked him about his trip to Rome.
“It was wonderful,” explained the man, “not only were we on time in one of Delta’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a beautiful 28 year old stewardess who waited on me hand and foot.
And the hotel-it was great! They’d just finished a $25 million remodeling job and now it’s the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us the presidential suite at no extra charge!”
“Well,” muttered the barber, “I know you didn’t get to see the pope.”
“Actually, we were quite lucky, for as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the pope likes to personally meet some of the visitors, and if I’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait the pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, five minutes later the pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down as he spoke a few words to me.”
“Really?” asked the Barber. “What’d he say?”
He said, “Where’d you get the lousy haircut?
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[PHOTO by sydbaldwinco on photobucket.com]