An Irish lad goes to confession.
The priest asks, “My boy, do you touch yourself at night?”
“I do Father.”
“And what do you think about when you touch yourself?”
“I wish my nose would stop itching.”
An Irish lad goes to confession.
The priest asks, “My boy, do you touch yourself at night?”
“I do Father.”
“And what do you think about when you touch yourself?”
“I wish my nose would stop itching.”