OK, I’ll try my hand at an old “shaggy dog” story:
A preacher came to the elders of his church and tendered his resignation. When pressed for an explanation, he would only say “Mother Green”.
“Mother Green? Who’s that? What do you mean?” the elders asked, but the preacher adamently refused to elaborate. The elders asked the preacher to stay until a replacement could be found, and he did so.
The new preacher arrived, and asked the departing pastor why he was giving up his flock. “Mother Green” he said, and once again refused to elaborate.
The new preacher took over, and on one particular Sunday morning, things were going swimmingly. The collection plate was full, the choir was singing on key, and he was in fine voice, raining fire and brimstone on his mesmerized audience. Suddenly, the back doors of the church were flung open, and in strutted, no, flounced a woman, built like the proverbial brick outhouse. She sported a short-short miniskirt, and displayed cleavage nearly to her naval. She sinuously slithered to the front of the church, sat in the front pew, and threw her leg over the armrest. She wore no underwear.
The preacher looked, looked again, and then whispered to the choir director “Is that Mother Green?”
“I don’t think so, pastor,” came the reply “I think it’s just the way the sun is hitting it through the stained-glass window.”
funny