My parents were practicing Catholics. We went to mass every Sunday, and confession, and took holy communion.

The problem was that my dad was a cock hound in his younger days. As a friend of his said, "He would fuck a snake if you held it for him."

So he passed on his wisdom to me with advice such as, "I understand your screwing your girlfriend. Don't forget that she also has a sister," and, "Remember, large women have large cunts, and small women are all cunt."

Predictably, I started having sex as a freshman in high school—lots and lots of sex.

I still went to church, didn't eat meat on Fridays, went to confession (I mean, I had a lot to confess), and took communion.

Sex was one part of my life, and religion another. The two never mixed.

I grew up in a Catholic ghetto and all my friends were similarly situated. Nobody felt guilt, nobody passed judgment.

Then I went to university and met others from different religious backgrounds and talked about saving themselves for marriage because that is what God expected. I thought, "Are you fucking crazy."

I soon learned the world was full of tight-assed people carrying loads of guilt.

Thank God I avoided that.