I'm going to Hell. Oh, it could be for any number of reasons, but the one that sprang to my mind yesterday is probably high up on the list. As I sat through Mass yesterday, all I could think about was sex. Until I realized I was thinking about sex and it dawned on me that in the handful of times I actually go to Mass every year, I spend the bulk of time thinking about sex.
Daydreaming is an activity in which I engage frequently. It's not always about sex. But when I'm in a church, whether it's when I'm home and going to Mass for a holiday (or to avoid a fight with my dad) or if I'm in some other denomination's church for a wedding, I think about sex, sex, sex.
The soundtracks to these church sex daydreams have lots of cursing, too. Because the sex isn't bad enough.
The nun would be so proud.