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An Irish priest decides to take a walk to the pier near his church. He walks for a bit then stops to watch a fisherman loading up his boat. The priest notices and asks him if he would like to join him for a while. The priest agrees. The fisherman asks if he's ever fished before, to which he replies, "No".
He baits the hook for the priest and then says, "Give it a shot, Father". After a short while the priest hooks a big fish and the father struggles to get it into the boat. The fisherman catches a glimpse of it and says, "Whoa, look at the size of that fucker!". The priest says, "Uh, would you please mind your language, the Lord is watching". "I'm sorry," says the fisherman, thinking quickly, "but that's what this fish is called - a fucker." "Oh, I didn't know, I'm sorry", the priest replies.
After the trip the priest brings the fish home to the Church and runs into the Bishop. "Look at this big fucker, Bishop!" Shocked the Bishop says "Please mind your language, this is a house of God." "No, you don't understand," the priest explains. "This fish is called a fucker. I caught this fucker!" "Ohhh, well I could clean this fucker and we could have it for dinner," exclaims the Bishop.
So the Bishop takes the fish, cleans it up and takes it to the Mother Superior. "Would you cook this fucker for dinner tonight?" She too complains about the language. "No Sister," he says. "This fish is a fucker. Father caught the fucker, I cleaned the fucker, and we'd like you to cook the fucker." Relieved, the Mother Superior says "Sure, I'll cook that fucker tonight."
That night the pope stops by for dinner and he thinks the fish is superb and asks where they got it. "I caught the fucker," the priest cries proudly. "I cleaned the fucker," the Bishop cries. "And I cooked the fucker," finished the Mother Superior.
There is absolute silence as the pope stares at them. Then he lets rip a huge fart, throws his hat off, pours a whiskey, lights a spliff, puts his feet up on the table and says, "You know, you cunts are alright!"