A minister dies and is waiting in line at the Pearly Gates. Ahead of him is a man who’s dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket, and jeans.

Saint Peter addresses this guy, “Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?” The man replies, “I’m Joey Shasta, retired airline pilot.”

Saint Peter consults his list. He smiles and says to the pilot, “Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom.”

The pilot goes into Heaven with his robe and staff.

Next it’s the minister’s turn. He stands erect and booms out, “I am Joseph Snow, pastor of Saint Mary’s for the last 43 years.” Saint Peter consults his list. He says to the minister, “Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom.”

“Just a minute,” says the minister. “That man was a pilot and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. How can this be?”

…

..

.

“Up here, we work by results,” says Saint Peter. “While you preached, people slept; while he flew, people prayed.”

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A trio of old veterans were bragging and jokes

about the heroic exploits of their ancestors one afternoon down at the VFW hall.

“My great grandfather, at age 13,” one declared proudly, “was a drummer boy at Shiloh.”

“Mine,” boasts another, “went down with Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn.”

“I’m the only soldier in my family,” confessed vet number three, “but if my great grandfather was living today he’d be the most famous man in the world.”

“Really? What’d he do?” his friends wanted to know.

“Nothing much… But he would be 165 years old.”

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A well dressed lawyer went into a bar for a martini and found himself beside a scrungy-looking drunk who kept mumbling and studying something in his hand.

The attorney leaned closer while the drunk held the tiny object up to the light, slurring, “Well, it looks like plastic.”

Then he rolled it between his fingers adding, “But it feels like rubber.”

Curious, the lawyer asked, “What do you have there mister?”

The drunk stammered, “Damn if I know, but it looks like plastic and feels like rubber.”

The lawyer said, “Let me take a look.”

And the drunk handed it over. The attorney rolled it between his thumb and fingers, then examined it closely.

“Yeah, it does look like plastic and feel like rubber, but I don’t know what it is. Where did you get it anyway?”

The drunk replied, “Out of my nose.”