Well, baseball season has ended in a grand flourish for Atlanta fans, though perhaps “ignominious” would describe it better for Houston adherents. Anyway, with normalcy returning to the stands, those wacky clerics are at it again:
A priest, a minister, and a rabbu all go to the blood bank to donate. “What’s your blood type?” the clerk asks the priest.
“Why, I’m type A,” the Holy Father replies.
Addressing the minister, the clerk asks, “And your blood type?”
Well, baseball season has ended in a grand flourish for Atlanta fans, though perhaps “ignominious” would describe it better for Houston adherents. Anyway, with normalcy returning to the stands, those wacky clerics are at it again:
A priest, a minister, and a rabbu all go to the blood bank to donate. “What’s your blood type?” the clerk asks the priest.
“Why, I’m type A,” the Holy Father replies.
Addressing the minister, the clerk asks, “And your blood type?”
“I’m an AB,” says the preacher.
And your blood type, Sir?”
The rabbu replies, “I’m a type O, of course.”