i was rousted on a sunday morning. too early. super early. there are no vivid memories. colors. schemes from that morning. it was just too damn early. put on my church clothes. they were getting too small for me, but we were too poor to care about an inch or so in the arms and a few in the pants. the nice argyle socks i got for xmas last year will have to suffice. it was spring so my clip on went on last and no overcoat was needed. the little secret between you and i is that i didn't change my underwear for church ever. i always wished the ceiling would collapse onto the congregation, and the ambulance driver would see my bacon strips. i always looked up at the murals on the ceilings. the stained glass windows. sometimes i'd get reprimanded by family members, but hell, isn't that what that shit is there for? i fell asleep during the homily. it was about some kid who went to war. that's bullshit anyways. oh is that kathy? that girl is cute. shit i can't wait for the cookies after the mass. i hope father al doesn't touch me or try to give me a back massage again. i'm freaked to be an altar boy next year. we believe in one god the father almighty....