Marks Just Jokes A Muslim At The Pearly Gates

A Muslim at The Pearly Gates

A Muslim dies and finds himself before the Pearly Gates..
He is very excited, as all his life he has longed to meet the Prophet Mohammed.
Having arrived at the Gates of Heaven, he meets a man with a beard.

'Are you Mohammed?' he asks.

'No, my son. I am Peter. Mohammed is higher up.
And he points to a ladder that rises into the clouds.

Delighted that Mohammed should be higher than Peter.
he climbs the ladder in great strides,
climbs through the clouds coming to a room
where he meets another bearded man.

He asks again, 'Are you Mohammed?
'No, I am Moses. Mohammed is higher still.

Exhausted, but with a heart full of joy.
he continues to climb the ladder and, yet again,
he discovers an even larger room
where he meets another man with a beard.

Full of hope, he asks again, 'Are you Mohammed?
'No, I am Jesus...You will find Mohammed higher up.

Mohammed higher than Jesus!
The poor man can hardly contain his delight and climbs and climbs,
ever higher. Once again, he reaches a larger room
where he meets a man with a beard and repeats his question:

'Are you Mohammed?' he gasps,
as he is, by now, totally out of breath from all his climbing.
'No, my son...I am God. But you look exhausted.
Would you like a coffee?'

'Yes, please, my Lord'

God looks behind him, claps his hands and calls out:
'Hey, Mohammed, two coffees!'



Keep your trust in God;
The government has failed you miserably!

Marks Just Jokes

Middle East Sons

Two Middle East mothers are sitting in a cafe chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint of goat's milk. The older of the two pulls a bag out of her purse and starts flipping through photos.

They start reminiscing.

'This is my oldest son Mohammed. He would have been 24 years old now.'

'Yes, I remember him as a baby' says the other mother cheerfully. He's a martyr now though'

mum confides. 'Oh, so sad dear' says the other. And this is my second son Kalid. He would have been 21.'

'Oh, I remember him,' says the other happily, 'he had such curly hair when he was born'. 'He's a martyr too' says mum quietly. 'Oh, gracious me ...' Says the other.

'And this is my third son. My baby. My beautiful Ahmed. He would have been 18, she whispers.

'Yes' says the friend enthusiastically, 'I remember when he first started school' 'He's a martyr also,' says mum, with tears in her eyes. After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim mother looks wistfully at the photographs and says...

'They blow up so fast, don't they...'