One Time At Communion 

This past weekend I went to my goddaughter’s first communion. My brother and I are both non-practicing Catholics. We were there because we had to be not because we wanted to be. I don’t go to church because I simply do not want to, not because I was abused by a priest or anything like that (not all priest are pedophiles and should be hanged by the balls, a few of them are decent people).

We escorted my goddaughter to the basement of the church so that she could get ready for her first communion. The last time I was at a first communion it was my first communion, and that was over 30 years ago! The children were all dressed in a white robe that looked a lot like something a KKK member would wear. I thought to myself: is she getting the communion or is she a racist that will burn crosses on the lawn of people of a different race? We left her there, hoping that she wasn’t a racist, to go in the church.

We were assigned the closest bench to the front of the church, right beside the choir and the nun conducting the choir. I was sitting between my mother and brother for the ceremony. My mother told me to behave. She knows me well. My brother brought a book, can you believe that he brought a book to read at church, he is going to hell.

While we were waiting I noticed a large pot at the front of the church to the left and I told my mother “yea, they are going to serve chicken stew”. She burst out laughing and so did I (I am going to hell!). We both had the giggles we could not stop laughing, thank God the service had not started yet. The look I received from the nun conductor was a “if looks could kill” look so the nun is also going to hell, what she passed judgment and she wanted to kill me, therefore she is going to hell. By the time the procession got to the front of the church we had both got control of our giggling.

At the beginning of the service my sister- in-law read something to the gathering and the only thing I got from it was that we were joining the children in a feast (great chicken stew).

The service was about 15 minutes old when one of the children’s mother went up to the podium and did a lecture. The second part of the lecture started with Oh Christ but it came out like OH, CHRIST! and I looked at my mother and the giggles started (we are going to hell). The lecturer had a big smile and almost started laughing but she kept it under control. Again the nun had the “stop it or I’ll beat the living shit out of you” look (she is so going to hell).

The choir were singing a hymn while the parishioners were communing, the hymn sounded an awful lot like The Ramones’ song “The KKK Took My Baby Away” and I started having serious doubts: my goddaughter was really joining the KKK and not preforming a religious rite. Maybe the KKK and the catholic church was the same organization! Have you ever seen a priest and a KKK grand master together in the same room, I think not. Makes you think, right? Somebody should investigate this, maybe I’m on to something here.

During the service they had a projector projecting a picture of Jesus on a screen and after the communion somebody changed the picture being projected. This one had a representation of Jesus surrounded by children. I looked at the picture and something looked fishy to me. I looked at it for a while until I figured out what was bugging me. I was a picture of Billy Ray Cyrus! Can you believe that Billy Ray fucking Cyrus! Achy Breaky Heart indeed!

The communion was over and a few parishioners walked around with baskets collecting money, for the chicken stew I assumed. I could not wait much longer. I was hungry, very hungry. The mass had gone on for over 75 minutes when the priest strapped on a guitar and the projector started projecting pictures of beautiful scenery and song lyrics, great karaoke. I hate karaoke. The singers all think they are good singers but most of the time they can’t sing worth a crap. What was he going to sing, something from the Billy Ray Cyrus song book. If he had there would have been hell to pay.

The mass lasted for about an hour and a half but it seemed like a lifetime. It had been the longest 90 minutes of my life. It felt like being sent to hell for eternity. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. We rushed out like a bat out of hell. When I was driving to my brothers house I yelled out “Shit I forgot my chicken stew and I paid for it, damn it to hell!”

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