This story from my past is reproduced in its entirety from an email exchange I had recently with someone. Originally intended to be private, we both thought it should be flung across the worldwideweb for the glimpse it gives into what made me the lover of myself thousands I am today.
***
when i was a young teen my parents, in a paroxysm of disciplinary fervor, enrolled me in a church youth group. i spent the time with my fellow morally upstanding youth groupers trying to get into the pants of the hotter christian girls, only to be rebuffed by their closed leg policy. finally, i cracked the austere exterior of a sweet pretty young thing during a bbq on church grounds with some help from a flask of jack&coke i had hidden in my jeans. tragically, we had nowhere to hide from prying eyes or the lord above to grope kiss and fondle. there were woods about a half mile away but people would look for us in a panic after a while. finally, we absconded to the only place which at that moment was completely shrouded in privacy — the church rectory.
well, we *assumed* it was private.
as we were making out in the hallway with my body pressing hers against the wall desecrating all that is holy, careful to do it away from the watchful eye of a nearby wooden crucifix, we heard a toilet flush and then the head priest walked in on us with my hand firmly wedged down the front of the tight jeans of mi amour. i struggled to pull my hand out as the priest gasped for words and turned red-faced, but like chinese fingercuffs my struggling only pushed my hand in farther. a wave of anxiety swept over me as i imagined i would be marched out in a perp walk before the scandalized flock, my girl and me intertwined like siamese sex fiends in such a romantically touching way. finally, with the help of proper breathing technique and my double-jointedness, i extricated my hand, by now smelling of raw sexuality, and the girl began crying. i contemplated making a run for it but instead stood like a statue as the priest’s admonitions buzzed like ocean surf in my ears.
i quit the youth group the next day with no resistance from my parents. word of my exploits traveled the lands far and wide.
***
yours in the light of the lamb,
poon h. christ

my hand, by now smelling of raw sexuality
So next time I go to the fish market I’ll be smelling raw sexuality?
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Christian iconoclasm… that’s sooo 1984 Madonna. Scratch that: 2007 Britney Spears.
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pa – i’m not so much anti-religion as i am a steamroller of id.
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Dear God Roissy, in all those years has anything changed?
This was too funny for words
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that was a touching story. no, really.
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hahah. I think maybe you think this isn’t normal behavior or is in some way — unique to the norm. maybe not? i could be projecting.
but i will say this… my formative years were full of church camp, church retreats, and sunday evening youth group meetings… and a whole LOT of hooking up.
just about every “first” (except the actual act of sex) i exprienced had something to do with church… first really good kiss, first handjob, first blowjob, first guy feeling me up (and down), first everything.
you should have stayed in the youth group.
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you should have stayed in the youth group.
For the shits and giggle factor, are we referring to a Protestant youth group or a Catholic youth group?
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my first time was in the attic of a backwoods yamaha repair shop, surrounded by engine grease and fresh sawdust. in a formative context, i suppose that really explains a lot.
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well written.
i hope you tell that one to the grandkids (no sarcasm). dammit, i want a story like that.
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Not sure if you were asking me or Roissy but for shits and giggles it was protestant. catholics are too guilt-centric. didn’t you know??
😉
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I was asking Roissy, but your answer will suffice for now. 🙂
I went to Catholic School from kindergarten to 12th grade, and from my first hand-accounts, there are plenty of slutty Catholic school girls, the whole slutty Catholic school slut is highly overrated, and the sluttiness was concentrated amongst a small percentage of the female population who also took part in partying, and possible cocaine use.
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BTW, I’m a Catholic (yes, a black Catholic who went to school with Irish and Italian kids), and I feel the guilt thing too sometimes…
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catholics are too guilt-centric. didn’t you know??
on the other hand catholics can just confess, pray their Ave Marías and everything is forgiven.
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Really, protestants take themslefes much more seriously than catholics.
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‘i struggled to pull my hand out as the priest gasped for words and turned red-faced, but like chinese fingercuffs my struggling only pushed my hand in farther.” = genius. please write a book of these collected formative experiences.
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Humph. Nuts to you, Gannon, in No. 13. It’s not a valid confession unless you experience real contrition (horror at the awfulness of the sin and a genuine intention not to sin again).
So there.
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David, you’re not black catholic. You’re Chocolic.
Never forget that.
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Paully, I owe you. That’s rather witty, and I might use it in a conversation or two with the female friends…
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Actually, I meant that in a positive way. I like catholic because they tend to be much more moderate than say baptists. Catholics tend to have a healthy distance to doctrine. The worst fundamentalists and feminist churches always are evangelic. I have deep respect for catholicism.
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Your writing style is starting to grate on me. Just FYI.
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I just signed my 12 year old son up for church youth group, not two weeks ago.
Shit.
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PA, its pretty hard to find girls in madrassas, they are mostly going to consist of boys… people that conservative don’t send their girls to school.
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Norixism – you’re completely missing the point.
And you’re wrong, too. There are all-girl schools in Saudi Arabia even. I used the word “mardasa” loosely, menning school in that part of the world in general.
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I would absolutely love to see some naughty hanky panky regarding Islamic chicks. Unfortunately, you may be faced with public execution as a result of committing adultery, or be responsible for a girl getting killed by her family as part of an honor killing . What a barbaric religion.
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Barbaric ‘culture’, please.
I’m pretty sure the original Christianity didn’t focus too much on the whole witch-burning thing, either…
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