I was literally yanked out of the confessional when i was 13 by the shithead of a priest who was hearing hearing my confession. He got out of the booth, opened the door and dragged me out by my arm, ytelling at me. He then dragged me down the main aisle of the church by my hair and threw me out of the front door. It wasn't that crowded and it wasn't my own parish thank God. I'd wanted to go to a different church for that particular confession; I was scared of having someone who might have known my parents hear about it, 'seal of the confessional' or not!
And to this very day I have short hair, which is pretty LOL even if nothing else is! In the 70's it was one of those John Travolta/Saturday Night Fever styles, sprayed harder then granite: ain't no way they'd have been grabbing it roflmao. When I went through my 50's greaser phase it was so greasy nobody could have held onto it lolol. In the 90's as a gelhead, again, there was no way they could grab it lmao.
Today I still keep it short. Except when i can't get to the barbershop.
All because of a confession at age 13!
