Catholic Horror Stories

 I had a number of disagreements with Sister Joanne during the eighth grade, but it came to a head one day when she decided
to humiliate a girl from the parish.  That girl had dropped out after the sixth grade because one of the boys in the school had
knocked her up.  (He got to stay.)  The girl was going to be allowed to attend our 8th grade graduation ceremony as an
honorary graduate, and was sitting in on some classes.

Sister Joanne picked that day to speak about the impurity of sex.  The whole celibacy/purity thing always stuck in my craw.
I wanted to disrupt Sister Joanne's lecture, because I saw this poor girl shrinking smaller and smaller into her chair.  So I asked
Sister Joanne, "My Mom obviously had sex, because I'm here.  Does that make her impure?"  Sister Joanne responded with
"If she had you, she must be."

Oh, my fucking god.  Those were fighting words.  But I held my tongue.  I let her give her fake apology.  Then I asked her
about the ring on her finger, which she said symbolizes her marriage to Jesus.  I told her that her so-called marriage to Jesus
was a perversion of the entire concept of marriage.

Now it was Sister Joanne's turn to be pissed.  She called me to the front of the class, and asked me to hold out my hand.
I knew where this was going, and kept my hands in my pockets.  "If you have a sick need to resort to violence, that's your
problem.  I won't be an active participant.  Why don't you hit me in the face with that ruler?  Perhaps the metal edge will
leave a scar."  I patted my face with my hand, and then loudly slapped my own cheek, which shocked her and the entire class.
"Right here.  I dare you."  I returned to my desk.

This episode earned a sitdown chat with Father Charles Schoppe (the child molester), my parents, and Sister Joanne.
I started off explaining how I was aware that what I said was blasphemy, and that I was sorry for expressing myself, and
explained how I kind of lost it after Sister Joanne insulted my mother.  I got a little misty while I quoted my question and
coerced Sister Joanne to give her insulting response in front of God, my parents and Father Schoppe (the child molester).
Now it was my father's turn to be pissed.  I could see the blood boiling, and was glad that I, for once, was not the target
of his rage. I was asked to leave the room as everyone's attention turned to Sister Joanne's behavior.

Oh, sweet Jebus, you sure walked into that Sister.  Haha haha ha ha.

Sister Joanne was sent out next, and quietly said "I just want you to know I don't buy your little innocent act."

"Good.  Then we understand each other.  Now you know that I will defend myself by whatever means are necessary."
Even a pasty suburban cracker can sometimes put a Malcolm X quotation to good use.

P.S.
I wrote another piece about Father Charles Schoppe the child molester here ...
http://www.digitalmediatree.com/onelap/?19003


My parents put me in St. Martin of Tours in Bethpage, NY for elementary school. In second grade we were only allowed
to go to the bathroom twice a day, when we were all trooped out down the hall. One day I really had to take a pee and
repeatedly raised my hand to ask if I could go, until I got threatened if I asked again.

Finally I just had to let loose in my seat and had to sit in my urine until a classmate noticed and told the teacher.
What happened then? I got slapped upside the head and booted out of school for the day.
They threw a 7 year old into the street with peed up pants and who had no idea how to get home
because he took a 5 mile trip in a bus to get there. I finally found a nice female cop who called my mother.
Fucking perverted psychos.

Randy
 

Randy, you had it tougher than me.
My knees/Geography books on the cement was the worst I ever got
 

To put things in perspective, when you turned your kids over to the priests & nuns, you formally and in-writing
agree that any priest, nun, or homeless person the parish chooses to hire to save money could legally apply whatever
level of physical pain they considered a deterent, and that's not too bad of a deal if you're religiously insane.

If your kid is possessed, beating him with an iron bar is the best way to make the Devil leave the fastest,
so vote your religion and exorcize The Demon while you can!  (He has to go back into the other dimension
for 90 days if you trick him into saying his name backwards) or vote with the Devil and decide right now,
because your child's life is hanging in the balance, so be damn certain when you make your decision.
 

Thank God for organized religion


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