Me, My Catholic Guilt, and an Elderly Priest
I now have a biblically cringe worthy story to tell. It involves me, my catholic guilt, and an elderly priest.

I am not religious in the slightest. However I was brought up to be Roman Catholic, which entailed me going to religious schools, serving as an alter boy, in the choir before they yo-yoed (yes, they went back up for a while after they first dropped. No, me neither, but they’re down now), and even receiving religious instruction at my house by a nun.

I thought it was all a load of tosh after I was about 14 and finally rebelled about 15, when I refused point blank to get out of bed to go to church on a Sunday. However that did leave an unfortunate window, whereby I had been to Confession probably every month until I was 13. The window being me starting my continued and frenzied onanism and dealing with the Catholic guilt, and finally not believing in God and thinking nothing of it.

I remember finally working out how to polish my lighthouse when I was in the bath. Then everything was a furious blur from then onwards. At least until, I stopped to think about what I was doing, and reconciling this with the adolescent propaganda that the Vatican pumps out regarding relationships, masturbation, and the prohibition of prophylactics made me feel extremely guilty.

I was racked with remorse. The Lord was watching me think of Charlene from Neighbours, and watched when my hands wandered into my inhabited crotch. I stopped doing it. I had to do something.

So I went to Confession before Church. My parents were thrilled, as they thought that my enthusiasm was finally sparking for the one true church. They didn’t guess my dark, vile secret (well, I am sure the guessed eventually, but not then).

I went into the darkened Church, and lit a candle for my redemption whilst I waited for the previous occupant of the Confession booth to finish. It was my church friend, Dale. “Alright Dale, what did you get?” “two Hail Marys and an Our Father” “sweet, catch ya later”.

Dale went to kneel to say his penance, and I went into the booth. I was really nervous, and I kept on thinking I could just make something up, like lying or stealing sweets as I usually did.

“Ignosce mihi, Pater, quia peccavi.” I said into the hatch. Bless me Father, for I have sinned.

He muttered back in Latin and asked me to tell him his sins so he could absolve them for me.

I said that I had had impure thoughts. He asked me to clarify was I meant. I wanted to chicken out and I had become as crimson as the red part of a radish but I was committed.

I told him about Charlene.

He asked me what I did to myself.

I was now horrifically embarrassed and would have gladly killed myself (sadly that’s also a sin).

I started stuttering about my John Thomas. He asked me who John Thomas was.

“It’s… it’s my penis”, my face now as purple as my newly worshipped idol.

“Do you think about this John Thomas?”

“No! No! It’s a name for my willy, penis.”

“Do you touch it…?

“Ye –e-e-e-es” I stuttered.

“Well, don’t.” Blah blah in latin, and say 2 Hail Marys and an Our Father.

And that was that.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 15:18, 16 replies)

"Well, don't"
Priceless.

Reminds me slightly of that Joyce Grenfell sketch with the famous "George...don't do that." But far more sinister. Have a click.
(LongJohnBaldry, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 15:23, closed)

Charlene from Neighbours?
That would put you in your 30's.

You can tell the age of a bloke by who he masturbated to as a teen.

Edit - just read your profile...... ok, late twenties/early thirties.
( girlinthehole, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 15:24, closed)

Almost 30s
but not quite :-)
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 15:24, closed)

@ Blouse
Mine was Marlene Dietrich...
( Boss Keloid Got your mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 15:38, closed)

Pah!
Mine was Marie Antoinette.

*creaks*
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 15:46, closed)

Dude...
Lady Godiva was fucking HOT.

*dust blowing off of bones*
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 3 Dec 2008, 17:04, closed)

Nahhh
Cleopatra, now she could play with my snake all day!
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Thu 4 Dec 2008, 10:46, closed)

Phwoar
Mary Magdalene eh? What a filthy slut. I would do her 'til she died. Oh hang on...
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 17:10, closed)

That won't work for me
coz as a teen I masturbated to my classmates.
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Thu 4 Dec 2008, 1:09, closed)

if your mate got 2 hail marys and an our father
does that mean he was confessing to bashing the bishop too?
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 15:44, closed)

yup
I asked him later and he confessed to bashing the bishop. And masturbating.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 15:54, closed)

"Down with that sort of thing"
Ah, contraception and the Catholic Church.

"That would be an ecumenical matter"
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Wed 3 Dec 2008, 15:47, closed)

DRINK!
/Father Jack voice
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 3 Dec 2008, 17:04, closed)

Why is it they always asked for details?
Always.

Filthy buggers.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 16:27, closed)

That wasn't a real priest, chickenlady
That was me.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:31, closed)

Step 1: Identify a basic human desire.
Step 2: Convince everyone that they will go to eternal damnation if they attempt to satisfy that basic human desire.
Step 3: Convince everyone that they can avoid that eternal damnation if they confess to a figure of authority if they have engaged in that basic human desire.
Step 4: Enjoy the lifelong power and influence that comes with knowing everyone's guilty secrets. Especially useful when sending around the collection plate.

Religious guilt is one of the most evil creations mankind has ever inflicted upon itself.
(Musuko, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 17:26, closed)