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This is a question It's Not What It Looks Like!

Cawl wrote two years ago, "People seem to have a knack for walking in at just the wrong time:
"Well, my clothes got wet, so did his... Yes, officer, huddling together to conserve body heat... Yes officer, he's five... No Officer... I'm not his Dad."

What have you done that, in retrospect, you'd really rather nobody had seen, mostly as things just get worse the more you try to explain it?

(, Thu 9 Dec 2010, 21:56)
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Many many years ago I was a chorister.. (in the choir if I have just had a spelling fart)
I was only 7, and my brother was 10 (head choir boy, and labelled as Shropshire's answer to Aled Jones..Not that Aled was posing any questions like "Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough" as this would have lead to even more questions.. but there you have it). It was by anyone's standards an absolutely awesome choir, 30 or so strong, boys and men, the sound of our singing was like it was sent from the heavens, and as there were a few lads my age, we were always mucking about and playing jokes like pissing in the font..that kind of thing (Not really..we just pretended to..which for a young lad of 7 was comedy gold dust). A couple of mates always joked that I could hit the high notes because the air whistled through the braces on my nashers..which of course was nonsense..my voice could make the sternest of granny's weep with joy! No dental aids necessary to achieve such greatness..*coughs*.

Anyway, word was spreading of our fine choir of angels, and Lo..it came to pass.. that the Bishop of Lichfield was to visit our little country church with the idea of having us perform at his 'more grandios stage'.

Well our Reverend was in a proper flap, it was as if he'd got 10 chocolate eggs for Easter! There were to be no mistakes, and we practiced our little socks off, night after night, until it was note perfect.

The day came, and as usual, us lads were pratting about in the back where we got changed. As a laugh..one lad stuffed his cassock (choirboy outfit) into his mouth and said "Sorry Bishop, Michael can't sing today as I've eaten him".. to which we all virtually wet ourselves with laughter (we were 7). So I decided to do the same, stuffing it in my mouth and trying to speak..something was wrong.. My braces had caught onto the fabric! In a panic I pulled down, only for it to grip tighter..Oh shit..today of all days..All of my family had come to watch and there I was looking like a twat with a gown hanging out of my mouth. Cue the rest of the boys roaring with laughter...There is no fucking way I can go out looking like this! How can I sing? I'm normally stood right at the front...maybe if I snook in at the back nobody would notice?

The rest of the choir is out in front of the congregation..waiting for me..and I am hiding in the back room. Our Reverend comes looking for me, and following him is one of my 'so called mates that fucking deserted me in the first place' grinning like a fucking cheshire cat.

Reverends are not supposed to get angry..at least I don't think they are..but he went red in the face..calling me all the things under the sun.."STUPID BOY!! On THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF HIS LIFE"..frantically tugging at the garment, making it worse and worse.. I begin to cry.

Everyone is sat waiting for us, including the Bishop, we're running out of time....then the Reverend has a moment of "Genius" and tells my mate to put on the garment best he can to 'stretch' the material, and he would then attempt to pull me in the other direction.

The Bishop of Lichfield, curious as to the delay decides to see what is holding up proceedings, and flings open the door, only for himself and the whole congregation to see me bent over with tears in my eyes, mouth at the crotch of a startled 7 year old boy, and an angry red faced Reverend pulling at my waist..saying "JESUS FORGIVE ME!".

There were gasps, and there were sniggers. One of the congregation passed out, and sadly that was the last time I was in the choir..funnily enough me and my family stopped going to church after that.

The choir did however get to visit Lichfield..minus one silly little 7 year old.
(, Tue 14 Dec 2010, 9:32, 3 replies)
Good story
and just as well you weren't born into the catholic faith, that would have been an excellent excuse for a reach around.
(, Tue 14 Dec 2010, 10:55, closed)
Ah, the joy of the repressed memory.
I don't want to be around when you snap to and realise that in fact the priest was bumming you both senseless all that time.
(, Tue 14 Dec 2010, 16:09, closed)
This. Its not what it looks like because he bloody well was making you red in the face Matron.
(, Wed 15 Dec 2010, 17:37, closed)

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