Dr. Rich
Arrested Development
Old Michael was at his barber’s getting her hair cut for a trip to Rome
with Beemerdon. (You know those Irish Catholics have to make a pilgrimage once in their lifetime)
He mentioned the trip to his barber, who responded: " Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go to Rome.
So, how are you getting there?"
"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "Don and I got a great rate!"
"Continental?" exclaimed the barber. "That's a terrible airline.
Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late.
So, where are you staying in Rome?"
"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome 's Tiber River called Teste."
"Don't go any further said the barber. I know that place. Everybody thinks its gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."
"Don and I are going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope."
"That's rich," laughed the barber. You and a million other people
trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant.
Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."
A month later, Old Michael went back in for a trim. The barber asked about his the trip to Rome.
"It was wonderful," explained Old Michael, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a gorgeous 28-year-old stewardess who waited on Don and me hand and foot.
And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"
"Well," muttered the barber, "that's all well and good, but I know you
didn't get to see the Pope."
"Actually, we were quite lucky, because as Don and I toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet Irish Catholics and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet us.
"Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."
"Oh, really! What'd he say?"
He said: "Who ****** up your hair?"
with Beemerdon. (You know those Irish Catholics have to make a pilgrimage once in their lifetime)
He mentioned the trip to his barber, who responded: " Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go to Rome.
So, how are you getting there?"
"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "Don and I got a great rate!"
"Continental?" exclaimed the barber. "That's a terrible airline.
Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late.
So, where are you staying in Rome?"
"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome 's Tiber River called Teste."
"Don't go any further said the barber. I know that place. Everybody thinks its gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."
"Don and I are going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope."
"That's rich," laughed the barber. You and a million other people
trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant.
Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."
A month later, Old Michael went back in for a trim. The barber asked about his the trip to Rome.
"It was wonderful," explained Old Michael, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a gorgeous 28-year-old stewardess who waited on Don and me hand and foot.
And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"
"Well," muttered the barber, "that's all well and good, but I know you
didn't get to see the Pope."
"Actually, we were quite lucky, because as Don and I toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet Irish Catholics and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet us.
"Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."
"Oh, really! What'd he say?"
He said: "Who ****** up your hair?"
