A man, who smelled like a distillery, flopped down on a subway seat next to a priest.  The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket.

He opened his newspaper and began reading.  After a few minutes the disheveled man turned to the priest and said, "Say, Father, do you know what causes arthritis?"

Seizing the opportunity to make a point, the padre announced, "Mister, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap wicked women, too much alcohol, and a brazen contempt for your fellow man!"

"Well, I'll be darned," the drunk muttered, returning to his paper.

The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologized. "I'm very sorry, please forgive me.  I didn't mean to come on so strong.  How long have you had arthritis?"

"Oh, no. You see, I don't have it, Father. I was just reading that the Pope does."

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