Jesus is coming!

Hi everyone! Mickie here, also known around these parts as The Official Buttwiper. My job for the past five years has basically been to wipe butts in my household. I'm very good at it too. I can use one wipe (or now, a few sheets of toilet paper so as not to clog the toilet, although I prefer wipes because they don't crumble and break up into little dirty poop covered balls of lint in the butt cracks of my loved ones) to gently swipe the poop away as my children bend over, heads between their legs, cheeks spread, ready for the wiping. (Occasionally my husband will assume the position as I walk by, hoping to be treated to one of my quick, clean, gentle butt wipes, but I always walk right past him and let him do it himself.)

Anyway, I have to tell you that ever since Charlotte asked me to do a guest blog for her, I have been racking my brain trying to think of what to write. Politics? Um, no. Not going there. Why, you ask? Well, here is why. I am a silent Republican living somewhat peacefully smack in the middle of the San Francisco Bay Area. Hello?! Is there a more liberal area in the country? Probably not. I like to think I have balls, but if I were to speak up every time one of my friends around here went off on an anti-George Bush rant, or an anti-Republican tirade, I'd no doubt feel like the retarded kid on the playground being bullied and attacked by fifteen first graders. So in the interest of retaining some dignity, I just keep my mouth shut tight. Which, for me, is extremely hard because I am a very opinionated person, and I love to share my views with the world at large. I suppose it could be considered taking the pussy way out, but you know what? I just don't care. It makes things easier - and I'm okay with that.

On to the next option for a topic. Religion. I could write a book on that one! In fact, I actually might write a book on that one. I've got more juicy stories on how religion can fuck someone up (yes, a Republican can say fuck) than the Vienna Boys Choir. You see, I spent several of my formative years living smack in the middle of the Bible Belt in Little Rock, Arkansas. My parents, trying to do the right thing, sent us to a private, Baptist school because the public school system in Little Rock was, at that time, horrible. My sister and I went to a small school called Heritage Baptist. It was housed within Heritage Baptist Temple. Those people were some of the freakiest, scariest people I've ever come across in my life. They loved to teach about hell and the devil - I think they talked about Satan and hell more than they talked about God and Jesus. Within two months of being in that school, at the age of eight, I became "saved." I knew that when Jesus came back to earth to magically suck all of us up to heaven, I'd be among those sucked up with him. And I wouldn't burn in hell for all eternity. Phew, I'd dodged a bullet there! Because according to them, it was going to happen any day. I breathed a sigh of relief that I'd found these people in time! Just think if I hadn't! An eternity burning in hell - an eternity!! Do you know how long that is? No? Neither did I at the age of eight. But I knew that it was a long time, and it would be more miserable than anything I could imagine. My relief was short lived though when I realized that my parents, although good people, would not be sucked up along with me. Why? Because they were sinners. They drank wine. And they smoked cigarettes. (Remember, this was back in 1980 when everyone smoked.) I was consumed with worry. Every single day I tried to figure out how I was going to manage to bring my parents with me to heaven. But rather than tell them what was going on in my head, I suffered and plotted silently. I'd lie in bed at night, crying, worrying that Jesus was going to appear in the sky while we were sleeping, and that I'd be sucked into heaven with him, and my parents would wake up in the morning all confused about where I was, and they'd have to endure the misery of what was going to happen to all the sinners left on earth. At school we saw movies about this very topic: Mass confusion back on earth, all the sinners wondering where everyone else had gone. A person mowing the lawn suddenly disappears, leaving a lawn mower just idling where they'd been standing just moments before. Cars being abandoned as they were being driven down the freeway, causing crashes and terror among those left behind. So I began to sleep on the floor next to their bed at night, citing a scary movie as my fear, when in reality I was hoping that if Jesus returned while we were sleeping, that maybe I'd be able to grab their hands as I began to float to heaven - take them with me. And that story is just the beginning of my experience with religion. (With that upbringing, it's no wonder I turned into a Republican, huh?) I tend to be extremely long-winded, so I'll just end this topic right here, but you can check out more of my stories at The Official Buttwiper if you're interested.

Thanks, Charlotte, for the chance to share my silly stories with your readers. It was an honor that you asked me, and I hope you had (or are having) a fabulous time in San Diego! See ya at the gym......