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👇 THE JOKE 👇
In a quaint little church, there was a talented organist named Karen, renowned for her impressive musical skills and, well, equally impressive assets.
As she played the organ, her ample bosom seemed to have a mind of its own, drawing more attention than the hymns themselves.
This became quite the topic of discussion among the more conservative members of the congregation.
They felt it necessary to address the matter discreetly, fearing it might disrupt the sanctity of their services.
So, one concerned church lady approached Karen with a solution involving green persimmons known for their astringent properties.
She suggested Karen rub them on her, um, breasts to reduce their size.
But she warned Karen not to taste any of the green persimmons because they are so sour they would make her mouth pucker up, and she wouldn’t be able to talk properly for a while.
The voluptuous organist reluctantly agreed to try it.
The following Sunday morning the priest climbed into the pulpit and said,
“Dew to thircumstanthis bewond my contwol, we will not haf a thermon tewday.”
