OHHH yeah, mommy caused some trauma with THAT one.
I swear to god that during 8th grade I never watched TV in my bedroom for half a fucking hour before mom would open the door (without knocking of course) to "check on me." Funny, I didn't NEED checking on. I guess that was her anti-masturbation plan. She was raised Catholic, me too, and they consider that a "sin." Retarded religion that one. (I went to catholic school k through 8, I got confirmed (before I really had any place making an adult decision like that one); I can make fun of my "own" religion if I fucking want too. Get your rightous offense somewhere else.)
Anyway, I survived and learned to lock the fucking door. Then we had a nice talk about "abusing" myself. Do you suppose there's a reason I can't stand catholosism, much less organized religion?
Not that my parents are freakishly religious, I don't really know why such a fit over that. It does not seem to fit.
Oh well.
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I can sum up the clash of religion in one sentence:
"My Invisible Friend is better than your Invisible Friend."
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