A small church had a very attractive big-busted organist named Susan, and her breasts were so large that they bounced and jiggled while she played the organ.

Unfortunately, she distracted the male part of the congregation considerably. The very proper church ladies were appalled.

They said something had to be done about this or they would have to get another organist.

So one of the ladies approached Susan very discreetly about the problem, & told her to mash up some green persimmons & rub them on her nipples and all over her breasts, which should cause them to shrink in size, but warned her not to taste any of the green persimmons, because they are so sour they will make your mouth pucker up & you won't be able to talk properly for a while.

The voluptuous organist reluctantly agreed to try it.

The following Sunday morning the minister walked up to the pulpit and said,

“Dew to thircumsthanthis bewond my contwol, we will not hab a thermon tewday.

Oh Brother Johnathan where goest though?

To hell I believe. . . . .

Well, they say that the path is paved with good intentions.