*Guest blog by the Jimmer: Opinions expressed here and in any corresponding comments are the personal opinions of the original author, and do not necessarily represent that of the blog owner. So there. This is a GUEST blog written by the Jimmer. Not Rebecca. The Jimmer. Got it? K.

It’s been so long since I started this that I’m not sure where I left off. So, here I go. I’m heading North on Hwy 49 and it’s about 5:45pm. 1 hour and 45 minutes till womanhood. The entire drive I am breathing like a mother prior to birth. Not to mention that I smoked 4 cigarettes during a 15 minute drive. That would be a cigarette every 3 minutes and 45 seconds. I get to the Church – yes, St. Patrick’s Catholic Church – and pop the trunk. I retrieve my dress and wig and head down to the dressing room. I walk in to the dressing room and there are about 7 of the 15 already there getting ready. However, even stranger, all of their wives were there. Now, I’m thinking, I’ve got to put a dress on in front of these ladies? I don’t want them seeing my little package rolled up into a super ball. But then I saw my savior. Oh yes, a wash of relief rolled across my mind. There, in the corner of the room were 4 coolers. I walked over to them and my expectations were confirmed – The Miller Lite, Coors Light and MGD were all whispering Pick Me Pick Me. Naturally, I chose the Miller Lite. I drank that first beer in 7 minutes. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of a mirror brushing my wig and actually worrying about how I looked. After I was satisfied with my hair I began concentrating on my boobs. I blew up two balloons to what I thought was an acceptable size. I would estimate them being somewhere in between Calista Flockhart’s and Rebecca’s. I was not wearing a bra because the dress was so snug so I placed them inside making sure they were not too high up. I then began to glitter my “cleavage.” The glitter got a little out of hand and I think I looked like a disco ball by the time I was done. Mind you, at this point I’ve had 6 or 7 beers and 3 Jager Bombs. Oh, did I mention there was liquor there too? In fact, one of the participants brought his own moonshine, Mason jar and all. I put my pink lipstick on and I was ready to go. However, the event was running way behind because people were running late (attendees) and the ones that were there had congregated around the two bars. So, this meant more time to drink beer. By the time we got ready to go, I asked the Emcee 5 times if my lipstick looked ok. The fifth time he said, “Bitch, your lipstick looks fine!” All in jest of course – I think. Anyhow, the night moved pretty quickly from there. We all walked the runway individually and I really worked it. I was blowing kisses to the crowd and making my “oops did I do that” face. On the walk back to the dressing room tragedy was avoided, barely. I must have started walking a little faster but my heel slipped out of the wedge heels I was wearing and I did that side step thing that people do when they can’t walk in heels. I felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality. As for the swimsuit competition, I was saved because I was able to borrow a sarong. I wore Nicole’s bikini and stuffed my balloon ta-ta’s back in. I even sprinkled more glitter for good measure. Went to the mirror and fixed my hair and asked one of the other guys if my lipstick was good. We were then lining back up and I decided I needed one more beer in me, which, I grabbed and drank while waiting for my turn. I guess I was a little quick on the stage because I began walking back before they were finished talking about me. Also, there were a few other guys wearing sarongs and they decided to strip them off and prance around in bikini bottoms. Not yours truly. The sarong stayed firmly tied around my waist. You know, didn’t want to show the little Jim and the twins…

I didn’t win anything but overall it was fun. We rose between $20,000 and $25,000 for the YMCA. Again, it was fun, but I’ll never do it again….Well, not in public anyway.

Jim