A drunken biker staggered down from his motorcycle and managed to make it up the stairs to a cathedral and into the entrance, where he crashed from pew to pew, finally making his way to a side aisle and into a confessional.
A priest had observed all this, and figured the fellow needed some help, so he entered his side of the confessional.
After the priest sat there in deathly silence, he finally asked, “May I help you, my son?” “I dunno,” came the biker’s voice from behind the partition. “You got any paper on your side?”