The Pope's Tweets
Sometimes, when I’m all alone, I like to put on my cassock and spin around really fast and pretend I’m a tepee.
During a papal audience, I put folks at ease by asking, “Are you gay?” Then I say, “Kidding!” Then I go, “No, seriously, are you gay?”
It’s hard to tell all the cardinals apart, so sometimes I put different dinosaur stickers on their backs.
This is so embarrassing, but whenever I see Orthodox Jews I always think they’re waiters.
If people ask, “Why does God allow war and evil?,” I ask, “Why do the high-school students on ‘Glee’ look forty?”
When I stand on my balcony and wave to the faithful and millions more via satellite, I think, Kate Middleton must hate me!
If someone questions papal infallibility, I reply, “I know one thing for sure: you shouldn’t be wearing horizontal stripes.”
When I ponder why I was elected Pope over so many others, I wonder if it’s just a popularity contest. Then I think, Gosh, I hope so.
Proof of God’s existence: St. Patrick’s is right next to Saks.
Certain Christians think that they have to attend church only on Christmas and Easter, and I have a word for those people: lucky.
Whenever people doubt that angels are real, I ask them, “Excuse me, but have you seen the Jonas Brothers in concert?”
I hate to say it, but nuns are God’s punch lines.
Michele Bachmann is not Satan. Satan doesn’t have split ends.
Someday I’d like to put on slacks, a cardigan, a little straw hat, and sunglasses, and go see “The Book of Mormon.”
I worry about tweeting a sexy photo and seeing the headline: “THE POPE’S ANKLES!”
I tell other religious leaders their version of God is as valid as mine, but then I twirl and ask, “But who’s He takin’ to prom, huh?”
I met the Dalai Lama and he was so nice, but all I could think was, Sandals? In January? Really?
Every day I offer up a special prayer for the entire Kardashian family, but the next morning they’re always still alive.
I loved that best-seller about the boy who momentarily died and went to Heaven, but all I wanted to ask was, “Did He say anything about me?”
I counsel couples who are about to marry, “If it feels good, stop.”
Nancy Grace: perfect name for a gay Pope?
Read more http://www.newyorker.com/humor/2011/07/25/110725sh_shouts_rudnick#ixzz1TrcE29QN