There was a boy standing on a corner selling fish. He was saying, “Dam fish for sale, dam fish for sale.”
A preacher walked up and asked why he was calling them dam fish.
The kid said, “I caught them at the dam, so they’re dam fish.”
The preacher bought some, took them home and asked his wife to cook the dam fish.
His wife looked at him in bewilderment and said, “Preachers aren’t supposed to talk like that.”
The preacher explained why they were dam fish, and she agreed to cook them.
When dinner was ready and everyone was sitting down, the preacher asked his son to pass him the dam fish.
His son replied, “That’s the spirit dad. Pass the feckin’ potatoes!”
The Meenister’s Log
When I was a divinity student, during University holidays, I would often take Sunday Services in Churches whose ministers had either left or retired – it’s known as “pulpit supply”
On one particular Sunday, I arrived at the steps of this Church at the same time as an elderly lady who was walking with a stick.
(I should point out that being a student, I wasn’t entitled to wear a clerical collar and instead was in mufti)
“May I help you up the steps?” I asked her.
“How kind, thank you”
Half way up, we stopped for a moment’s rest.
“Tell me, young man, who is the preacher today?”
“Why, it’s myself; I was here a couple of weeks ago, if you remember”
“I wonder,” she replied, “if you would help me back down the steps!”