Quote:
Originally posted by LessinSF
He should have tried the blood and flesh of our Savior - deelish. Although I have found that the guy in the goofy robe doesn't like it when I whip out the A-1 and ask what vintage the hemaglobin is.
|
During my short stint in Catholic school, they actually made us go to confession. If you don't know what confession is, its where you tell a priest your sins while the two of you are separated by a black curtain. Kinda like a voting booth. He then asks what you're wearing, sighs a lot, grunts and tells you to say a hail mary or three.
A friend of mine told several of us to stand outside the confessional while he loudly told a very old priest an amazing set of ludicrous sins. The laundry list of absurd sins culminated with him telling the priest that he had murdered his cat.
I believe that was the beginning of the end for me and religion. I couldn't possibly take a stitch of it seriously. I mean, here was a priest telling a kid who was clearly goofing on him to say a whole bunch of our fathers for murdering his pet. How the fuck could I respect that process?
I still think confession was something derived to give priests something to talk about...
... besides boys swimming.
