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5:15 a.m. - 2003-07-07

MACKING OUT FOR JESUS

I was laying in bed this morning, wondering why there were certain parts of my life that I haven't been wanting to share with you guys for a while.

Like for the past week, Richie Sambora and Heather Locklear have been staying with us in the house. Richie and I have been getting along great, but Heather and I have been at odds because she keeps opening my mail and reading it.

And I haven't even started to mention how great Andrew's chemotherapy treatments have been going. I haven't had to go to one yet because I can't get the time off from work to go to my son's chemotherapy sessions.

And I COMPLETELY forgot to write about the cute little prostitute that wanted to oral sex me up in the bathroom stall which I had to politely decline because I'm married and plus...my buddy Wendigo was watching.

Then I woke up.

And it dawned on me.

It's a shame my dreams are so much more exciting than my real life.


Soooooo....happy 4th??

Kinda dull around here. I was off all day, Susie had to work all day, so Andrew and I just tooled around the house.

We walked up to the clubhouse and pool and swam a bit with the hyperactive children and their white trash grandmother who kept yelling "If you (do whatever it is you're doing that's irritating me) ONE MORE TIME, we're going home and I'm calling your father!!"

I swear, this woman yelled that so much that it became her mantra. I thought she was meditating and trying to reach her center or whatever the hell those crazy yoga people do by yelling "If you run and do cannonballs in the pool ONE MORE TIME, we're going home and I'm calling your father!"

Yeah.

So anyway.

Because I opened my big mouth last week during a staff meeting, it was up to me to open the Visitor Center on the evening of July 4th since they were setting off fireworks right outside the place.

Everyone thought it would be a slow night and I would just stand there for three hours.

Chyeah.

Right.

I must have had a thousand people walk through those doors in three hours.

At one point, I'm standing at the info desk, which is in the middle of the center and literally spinning around in a circle answering questions left and right. People were lined up to ask me questions.

"How old is this building?"

"It was built in 1898."

(I'm not sure what year exactly. But it's an old building and that sounded like a pretty good number to toss out there.)

"Where's a good Italian place to eat?"

"Olive Garden, but it's really far from here and you'd never find it."

"What time do the fireworks finish?"

"They're scheduled to run between 16 and 18 minutes unless someone blows their hand up or catches on fire."

So finally the fireworks start and about eight minutes into the show, they abruptly end.

Yep...people had been downtown for three hours waiting for the fireworks and they last eight minutes.

Why?

Because there was a freak explosion and one of the guys setting them off caught on fire.

No shit.

I'd link to the story, but I don't need to share any more info than that.

Naturally, nobody knew this and they all just accepted the fact that there were about a dozen fireworks and then the show was over.

But man...what a busy night for me.

Yeah.

So that was my fourth of July.

I did get a chance to talk to the Mayor during the hubbub and told him that we were sitting on a potential economic goldmine because people were wandering around in circles looking to spend money and none of the downtown restaurants or bars were open because of the holiday.

I think he was impressed with my way of thinking. He said he'd call me today to discuss this further.

So now I can't leave my desk all day, because I'll be waiting by the phone to give the mayor sound economic advice.

All in a day of the life of me.


Saturday we decided to run some errands.

We went to the Farmers Market and bought some fresh fruit and veggies.

We then decided to drive to the grocery store to finish stocking up our food supply when Susie said "Let's drive past our old house!"

Well okay. We have now officially been out of that house for over a year now and neither one of us had been by there for several months. Sounded like a fun Saturday morning thing to do.

Right?

Right???

So we're putt-putting through our old neighborhood and thanking God we didn't live there anymore. Rusted out cars parked in front yards. Groups of young thugs standing on corners staring menacingly at you as you drove by.

And then...there she was.

Nosy Fucking Assed Neighbor.

For those of you who've just started to read Uncle Bob in the last year, some background on Nosy Assed Neighbor may be needed.

In our old house, we had a neighbor who was in her late 50s, divorced and bitter toward the world. She was constantly wanting to know what we were doing and why. She particularly liked to try to engage me in debates where I was (naturally) wrong and she was right no matter what we were "debating".

I saw her first. She was sweeping out the gutter in front of her house.

"Oh shit!" I said. "Nosy Assed Neighbor is out!"

I pulled into a driveway to turn around.

"You can't turn around!" Susie hissed. "Just pull up and say hello."

I didn't say anything. It sounded logical enough.

We pulled up and said hello.

She acted excited to see us.

IN LESS THAN ONE MINUTE....she was telling me how much our city's new baseball team was going to suck next year, how I was a fool to think they'd do any good and that it all spelled gloom and doom for the city.

She told me my new job was a farce and that this city will NEVER attract tourists and I'm an idiot for ever thinking it would.

I sat there with the fakest smile plastered across my face, biting my tongue.

After about two minutes of her leaning in my window and calling me all sorts of names, I just said "Well, we've got to get moving before Andrew gets cranky!"

She looked in the back seat and said "Oh! Hi Andrew!"

Yeah. Andrew's really excited to see you, you cranky old fuckcase.

We drove away and I about throttled Susie.

"THAT'S why I didn't want to stop!" I said as she laughed heartily.

"I'm sorry," she giggled. "I forgot that she's always on your case."

Gawd.

I should have just smiled sweetly as the Nosy Assed Neighbor took a second to draw her breath before launching into another tirade about how fucking stupid I am and said "You know ... it's a wonder you haven't been able to land a man after all these years!"

And then peeled the fuck out of there like I was in the Fast and the Furiouser 3.


We went back to our old church yesterday.

Call it a nostalgic weekend ... I dunno.

But the church that I personally swore I'd never return to was graced with our presence after a three month absence.

Everyone was glad to see us, hug hug hug.

But apparently while we were gone, a new crisis has started.

We'll call it ... The Lesbo Factor.

I was leaning toward "The Lesbo Affair". But that sounds like lesbians having an affair and that's not really the case.

Anyway, there's these two lesbians in our church. They don't bother me at all, but they raise the hackles of the older folks in the congregation each week.

Why?

Because they sit on the front row each week and grope each other during church.

They have kissed several times during the service.

At one point, one had her hand on the other's thigh...millimeters from her lesbian coochie.

This drives the older folks batty.

And I'll admit...back when we were regulars, it made my job at the church a bit tough. Because I was supposed to befriend visitors to the church each Sunday, tell them about the church and how wonderful it was.

I'd be telling a young family with children that our church was so great ... as they sat behind two women slobbering all over each other while the preacher tried to speak.

It wasn't the fact that they are lesbians that bothers people. It's the fact that they openly display their love for each other and are the only couple in the church that do so.

Y'see ... there's certain rules of conduct to be followed during a church service. And one of the biggies is DON'T FUCKING MACK OUT ON EACH OTHER WHILE THE PREACHER'S TRYING TO SPEAK.

Heterosexual couples don't do it.

But these two insist on it.

Anyway, the new female minister has been approached by several older folks who have told her that this is a problem, it's distracting and it runs off potential new members to the church.

The new minister says that they are God's children and we shouldn't judge them.

She refuses to speak to them about their behavior during the service.

Sooooo...people are leaving the church and going elsewhere.

In droves.

Anyway ... we get to church yesterday and one of my old buddies grabs me and says "We've had two new members to the church since you guys left!"

Wonderful!

Well ... they're two new lesbians.

Sitting right down front with the other two lesbians.

And they make out even more than the first two lesbians.

Personally, I find it amusing.

I love the fact that four women can sit down in the front row of a church and peck each other on the lips for an hour and it just totally fucks these old people up.

I can honestly say that if these women could just sit there and listen to the sermon and keep their hands off each other, they'd be welcomed with open arms by the older folks.

It's not their sexuality that's turning them off. It's their open displays of affection.

But like I said ... I find it amusing. Mainly because I resigned my duty of being the head of evangelism and no longer have to approach visiting families and try to sell them on the church as they spend an hour watching lesbians tongue-wrestle each other as if they were auditioning for "The Man Show".

Another family of four quit the church yesterday. After the service, they were saying their goodbyes to everyone and telling them that last Sunday, they had to explain homosexuality to their six year-old son who asked why "those ladies" were always kissing and that was way too early to have to explain such a complicated issue.

What especially unnerved them that it wasn't after an incident of the kid seeing it in a movie or at the mall.

It happened in church.

And since the minister's sermon yesterday was all about how we as a church family need to quit focusing on "the little things" that we feel is tearing apart our church and focus on our love for Jesus, the family took this as the answer to their question of what was this new minister going to do about the smoochie coochies.

Answer: Absolutely nothing.

So far, four families have left the church in the last month. And that doesn't even include us.

The lesbians are happy because they feel that they've found a church and a minister that accepts the fact that they enjoy feeling each other up while listening about Jesus.

And they've started telling all their lesbian friends to come join them.

Common sense tells me that within five years or so, if this continues, the church will be predominantly gay.

Gays are one of the groups that are constantly fighting prejudice and when they find a sanctuary that promises them acceptance, they flock to it. I told Susie it's like a gay bar ... gays flock to gay bars rather than straight bars because they feel accepted there.

Same with our church.

And if the straight families keep leaving at one per week while the gays are joining one lesbian a week ... do the math people.

As I said ... I find it all amusing personally.

...And ... if the lesbians were the least bit attractive ... I might find it erotic.

Probably to the point where I'd be stroking it in the third row as I watched 'em mack out.

I mean hell ... if you can't beat 'em ... beat it.

...Rapidly.

... With a firm grip.

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