Dom tags me with a meme spreading like an Upper Peninsula fungus.
Still, a fun one:
I confess to owning a copy of Richard McBrien's Catholicism (one volume edition). I bought it back when I first entered RCIA, so put away the iron maiden--it's venial, at most.
I confess to being a biblioaddict. For the moment, the urge to buy more is sated. For the moment.
I confess to finding Andrew Greeley to be intentionally funny.
I confess to always playing Age of Empires on the "Death Match" setting. I am not patient--I want my Elite Janissary or Cataphract War Machine NOW.
I confess to exposing my children to the concept of sarcasm at far too young an age. Rest assured, I will pay for it later.
I confess to at one point refusing to buy Catholic books published before 1965. I now live in the Bearded Spock universe where I flyspeck most everything published after 1965.
I confess to watching the Detroit Lions every single freaking Sunday during the NFL season despite the fact they are a horribly-run, horribly-coached, inept organization that has not won a damn thing since my father was in short pants and shows no signs of developing a brainwave pattern that would allow them to purchase a frigging clue as to how supremely godawful they have been for going on three generations.
I confess to having a very, very ribald sense of humor (think The Big Lebowski, and you are in the ballpark). If you think my stuff is flamethrowing now, you should see the stuff that I don't post.
I confess to liking Costco. A lot. ["The military doesn't need this much toilet paper!" "Um--your point?"]
I confess to not being fully persuaded by some of the Church's teaching.
On a related note, I confess to not being a "thinking Catholic," so I promise not to generate dirigibles full of greenhouse gases talking about how my brain trumps the generations of faithful which came before me. Because it doesn't.
I confess to being out of ideas on this one.
[Update, 11/22/05: Maybe not: a couple more that got lost in the shuffle.]
I confess to not getting the devotion to the Infant Jesus of Prague. One of those "leaves me blinking" deals.
I confess to being a "wee bit" overweight. As in the Hiroshima bomb being a "wee bit of a noisemaker." Actually, I am tired of modeling morbid obesity for my wife and children, and am in the process of addressing it.
I confess to finding certain Catholic bloggers to be irritating as fiberglass catheters. No, no names. I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who feel the same about me, so there you go.
I confess to spending too much time worrying about this damn blog.
There--now for the absolution.