One Sunday, while counting the money in the weekly offering, the pastor of a small Florida church found a pink envelope containing $1,000. It happened again the next week. The following Sunday, he watched as the offering was collected and saw a little old lady put the distinctive pink envelope in the plate.

This went on for weeks until the pastor, overcome by curiosity, approached her. "Ma'am, I couldn't help but notice that you put $1,000 a week in the collection plate." he stated.

"Why, yes," she replied. "Every week my son sends me money and I give some of it to the church."

The pastor replied, "That's wonderful, how much does he send you?"

"$10,000 a week."

The pastor was amazed. "Your son must be very successful. What does he do for a living?"

"He's a veterinarian," she answered.

"That's an honorable profession," the pastor said. "Where does he practice?"

The old lady said proudly, "In Nevada. He has two cat houses in Las Vegas and one in Reno."

An artist, a lawyer, and a computer scientist are discussing the merits of a mistress.

An artist tells of the passion, the thrill which comes with the risk of being discovered.

A lawyer warns of the difficulties. It can lead to guilt, divorce, bankruptcy. Not worth it. Too many problems.

A computer scientist says; "It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. My wife thinks I'm with my mistress. My mistress thinks I'm home with my wife, and I can spend all night on the computer!"

Bob works hard at the plant and spends two nights each week bowling and plays golf every Saturday.

His wife thinks he's pushing himself too hard, so for his birthday she takes him to a local strip club.

The doorman at the club greets them and says, "Hey, Bob! How ya doin?"

His wife is puzzled and asks if he's been to this club before.

"Oh no," says Bob. "He's on my bowling team."

When they are seated, a waitress asks Bob if he'd like his usual and brings over a Miller Lite.

His wife is becoming increasingly uncomfortable and says, "How did she know that you drink Miller Lite?"

"I recognize her, she’s the waitress from the golf club. I always have a Lite at the end of the 1st nine, honey."

A stripper then comes over to their table, throws her arms around Bob, starts to rub herself all over him and says, "Hi Bobby, want your usual table dance, big boy?"

Bob's wife, now furious, grabs her purse and storms out of the club.

Bob follows and spots her getting into a cab.

Before she can slam the door, he jumps in beside her.

Bob tries desperately to explain how the stripper must have mistaken him for someone else, but his wife is having none of it.

She is screaming at him at the top of her lungs, calling him every four-letter word in the book.

The cabby turns around and says, "Geez, Bob, you picked up a real winner this time."

The funeral for Bob is on Friday.