My parents are off to hell.
The older generations of my dad's side of the family are devoutly Greek Orthodox. I'm talking crosses, holy water, hideous icons of a miserable, very Greek-looking Jesus. Most of the great uncles do backup vocals for the priest. Fun fact about the Greek Orthodox church: masses are sung. Sometimes with hand actions. Imagine an ageing, swarthy Backstreet Boys.

My dad, on the other hand, is an atheist. As is my mother. And as, inevitably, am I. From the age of six, every Easter they've wheeled out a battered copy of The Life of Brian, which means I find it impossible to see a crucifix without "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" popping into my head.

Due to pressure from the grandparents, I was dragged to the Greek church every month or so to be doused with holy water and choke down their manky excuse for communion. The Greeks don't believe in delicious rice crackers like most churches, instead they chuck heavy bread into the wine and spoon the resulting mush into people's mouths. It's exactly as unpleasant as it sounds.

I hated it.

Then one magical day, when I was eleven years old, I was told I didn't have to go anymore. I didn't question why. In fact, I briefly believed in a kind and merciful God for not having to sit through all that.

As it happens, my parents had developed a cunning excuse. Very devoutly religious Greek Orthodox people do not believe menstruating women should be allowed into church. My parents conveniently gave that excuse for me every time I was expected to go.

Pity they didn't do that for my swimming lessons, too.

I have been in the church precisely once since I was eleven, for my grandmother's funeral. I expect everyone is familiar with the Giggle Loop and it hit me with a vengeance. Remember those sung services I mentioned earlier? They did a verse in English. The day after the Eurovision song contest.
( Queen of Cheesecake, Tue 16 Dec 2008, 23:46, 3 replies)

Very devoutly religious Greek Orthodox people do not believe menstruating women should be allowed into church . . .
or if they are, they don't touch anything. Just what a young girl wants when she's first menstruating - everyone who walks in kisses the icons, and blesses themselves - girls don't. Very inconspicuous . . . I especially loved having Mum tell my relatives: Mrs Legless can't have communion this Easter - she's "unwell" . . . Greek code for "on the blob."

I must disagree with the "mush" though - I quite like it. And I guess seeing as no one's (not even a priest's) hands can handle the communion, the spoon's the only way.

PS. you forgot to mention having to kiss the corpse at Greek funerals . . .
PPS. Sitting through the mass? Lucky you - I get to stand . . . only the old ladies get to sit (on the left hand side of the church, away from the men)3 plus hours of standing - good for the varicose veins :)

Ooh boy, there's lots more - I could go on about how much fun a Greek Orthodox mass/lifestyle is, but I think HRH of Cheesecakey Goodness has given everyone the gist of it . . .
( Mrs Legless . . . belongs to, well, you know . . . :), Wed 17 Dec 2008, 5:37, closed)

I do the occasional gig
singing at the Greek Orthodox Cathedral in west London. Mostly weddings and funerals, not the actual masses, but god yes, they are long and DULL! Fortunately we sing up in the gallery, so can sit down when we're being quiet. Which isn't that much, as it seems like you have to sing a response to every other sodding word. And the music gets insanely repetitive after a while.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 10:25, closed)

Did none of them ever question
How you were flying with the Red Arrows every single week?
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Thu 18 Dec 2008, 7:15, closed)