And yet another joke...

In English please:

A drunk man who smelled like beer sat 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 man turned to the priest and asked," Say, Father, what causes arthritis?"




"My Son, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol, a contempt for your fellow man, sleeping around with prostitutes and lack of bath." "Well, I'll be damned," the drunk muttered, returning to his paper.


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


"I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does..."

--
Marry your Son when you will, but your Daughter when you can. B.F 1734

It is fools who marry on whim and folly, for the road of divorce is not very jolly. Ricky Saunders 2007
--


According to research at an english university, it doesn't matter in what order the letters
in a word are, the only important thing is that the first and last letter is at the right place.
The rest can be a total mess and you can still read it without problem.
This is because we do not read every letter by it self but the word as a whole.

in Gobbledygook please:

A dnurk man who slemeld like beer sat dwon on a sbuway saet nxet to a pirest. The man's tie was stanied, his fcae was plsaeterd wtih red lspiitck, and a hlaf empty bttole of gin was sitikcng out of his tron coat pkcoet. He oepend his nsweapepr and beagn rdaenig. Atfer a few mitunes the man truend to the pirest and aksed," Say, Faehtr, waht cuases arrhtitis?"




"My Son, it's csuaed by losoe liivng, benig wtih caehp, wkcied women, too much alocohl, a cnotepmt for yuor fellow man, selpenig aorund wtih prosttietus and lack of bath." "Wlel, I'll be danmed," the dnurk mtuetred, retruning to his ppaer.


The pirest, tnihnikg abuot waht he had siad, ngdued the man and aploigoezd. "I'm vrey sorry. I ddin't maen to cmoe on so sortng. How lnog hvae you had arhttiris?"


"I don't have it, Ftaher. I was jsut raeding hree that the Ppoe does..."

--
Mrary your Son when you will, but yuor Daguhetr wehn you can. B.F 1374

It is fools who mrray on whim and folly, for the raod of dviroce is not vrey jolly. Rkciy Sadnuers 2007
--