My reasoning at the time was that if they read the Bible they would stop bullying me. I have since come to realize that in the hands of a bully the Bible can be as effective a weapon as any, but hey, my heart was in the right place.
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I got some pretty delightful responses to this, so brace yourselves for a flood of RTs
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i went to catholic school for part of the 3rd gr. I didnt go to confession. Im not catholic. A friend asked y Me: im 7 what do i have to confess Her: if u dont go u go to hell Me: I dont believe n hell Her, Wide eyed: why not? Me: i dont blieve n fake horrible things
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i didnt go to that school much longer after that because the mother superior scolded me every chance she got and the girls pulls my skirt up in front of boys and threw rocks at me. I never did get around to believing in hell - at least not in the after life.
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In kindergarten, I was in (unrequited) little-kid love with this girl in my class, named Rachel. But I always got her name mixed with Chelsea (still a thing). So, one day in recess, I decided to kiss Rachel and called her, only I said Chelsea by accident.
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Chelsea (I wasn't into her) came over. Rather than correct myself, Chelsea and I went behind the dumpster and kissed a bunch (on the LIPS, because I was the Bad Boy of that kindergarten class). Me:pic.twitter.com/0I1G9KhAMb
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I found $20 in can of tennis balls and took it to the police station to turn in. They were like... lol it’s yours.
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When I was really little, maybe 3, I went up to my brother, unprovoked, and scratched him so hard he bled. My parents asked why and I said, “He hit me yesterday.”pic.twitter.com/WfkJlrmoM4
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Well, we played in a park that bordered a tennis club. We would often find tennisballs that frequently flew over the fence. Wewould keep them and walk door to door selling them in the neighborhood. We would sell them for 25 cents each, but the orange one was 1$.
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At the age of 5, I was the biggest discipline problem in my Sunday School class. I was perfectly obedient, but I could read with great fluency, and kept "helping" the teacher by correcting her verse readings. "No, ma'am, it doesn't say 'be good', it says 'do unto them that...'"
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It got to the point that whenever she said something about faith or God, everyone in class turned to me to find out what the REAL truth was. I had no idea I was a holy terror, literally. My mother had no idea what to tell the poor woman. :-)
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