You might be a Priest fan if you unabashedly pissed off the Christian high school were were attending with a various array of concert T-shirts, buttons, bleach-blonde and feathered mulletish hair style (think Halford circa "Living After Midnight" video) artwork scrawled all over your assignment folders (and more than a few "devil's tuning fork" logos on a few of your turned-in papers) leading most if not all of the faculty to believe that you were truly a denizen of Satan in their holier-than-thou midst. The year, for reference, is 1985.
You might be a Priest fan if you invited two of your like-minded heathen friends and the three of you sat at weekend chapel services bearing more than a slight resemblance to Mssrs. Tipton, Halford and Downing.
(I'm sure they considered branding me a witch, dunking me or just putting me in the stocks. Can't believe none of them ever accused me of turning them into a newt.)
