I spent 16 years in the Catholic church. I went every Sunday very obediently with my mum and li'l bro. Most Sunday mornings I would pretend to be sick or very very tired but that did not often grant me a morning off. Still doesn't work on Monday mornings. I really hated enduring such a tedious and boring hour long service. The only thing I remember enjoying about the morning was the Violet Crumble bars Rob and I would buy after the mass. Other than that is was like being tortured by Jack Bauer.
During my high school years my secret 'Alterboy' life was being exposed. Wearing a long white dress every Sunday was not something I could live with while trying to impress the girls. I used to get in trouble by the priest for wearing thongs under my alter robes (that's thongs, as in the rubber shoe things, not g-strings... and no, the priest never tried to touch my thong).
The dress didn't help with the 'fagman' nickname I was getting tagged with either. Bastards. I was definitely not gay and have never came close to wanting to be gay. People love to label each other, especially in school... I've been described recently as the gayest straight guy someone has ever met. Thanks J, you're a riot... geesh.