~ A comedy book about kids surviving Catholic School and the nuns of the 1960s ~


One thing you didn’t want to do is look in any way, shape or form like you were
chewing gum. Nothing begs a nun’s rage like a kid chewing gum. You don’t even want to look like you’re chewing gum. It’s immaterial whether you are or not.

There’s something inherently evil about gum to a nun. it’s kind of like how a mouse will drive an elephant crazy. Maybe gum gets caught on their heels or stuck on their rosary beads, or something. I’ve always wondered if Wrigley’s and the Catholic Church were ever at war. Or if the nuns just hated the likes of Bazooka Joe and his pals.

"Running down a jay-walking nun might seem a bit excessive at first glance. However, before you return your verdict, just think about how good it would feel!"

One day, Sister Daniel Marie descended on David Pasqualoni for allegedly chewing gum. She simply snuck up on him, grabbed him under the chin and forced his jaw to open wide.

“Are you chewing gum? Huh! Well, are you?” she demanded.

All Pasqualoni could do with the nun’s fingers in his mouth was gargle out an “uhng-uh.” As the nun continued to inspect his tonsils for signs of gum, Pasqualoni’s head bobbed and swung around like a tuna trying to fight his way off a fisherman’s hook.

“Where’s the gum?” she shouted to the seventh grader who was still trying to get
feeling back into his jaw.

“I’m not chewing gum,” he mumbled.

“Then stop chewing your cud,” she demanded, and continued on with her class.

Every I.C. kid knew there was a nun’s manual somewhere that explained how to
extricate oneself from an incorrect assessment of guilt. Blaming Pasqualoni for chewing his cud like a cow was an easy way out for a nun desperately trying to catch a kid chewing gum.

The nuns tried so hard to find a kid chewing gum that it was scary to think what they would have done had a kid actually been caught red handed, or red tongued. Must have been some punishment comparable to a trip up Cavalry Hill, if not full crucifixion.

In nine years, I never saw a kid chewing gum at Immaculate Conception. Never saw the gummy substance anywhere. Except under the pews at church.

I think the nuns would get wind of gum being stuck under a desk in their classroom. Maybe the janitor would say something like, “Hey, sister, I’m sorry for bothering you, but I know you’ll be interested to know that I found a wad of bubble gum under desk four, row three.”

The nuns weren’t judicious enough to realize that the gum may have been put there by some other tenant of Pasqualoni’s desk. Would a nun perhaps suspect that the CCD crowd that took night classes in religious studies in that very room were guilty? No, no, no. It was the student who was guilty. All the evidence was there. Pasqualoni’s desk had gum underneath it, ergo, Pasqualoni is chewing gum in class.

That’s the kind of tip a nun would pay kickback money for. It was a chance to capture a kid in a guilty situation and humiliate him with all sorts of theatrics. I’m sure the nuns stayed up at night contemplating their next day’s assaults.

A hilarious comedy about children enduring Catholic School in the 1960s - by Rick Phillips FunniestBookoftheYear.com email: RICKPHIL22@AOL.COM