NOTE: If you are easily offended by offensive things then please go somewhere else. I suggest pbskids.org or barbie.com, you wuss!


SCROLL TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS PAGE TO LISTEN TO MY HILARIOUS AND WILDLY OFFENSIVE PODCAST!

Friday, January 30, 2004

I'm moving into a new place and a new neighborhood and a new apartment with new people and I'm doing it all tomorrow and right now I'm tired and sore and coughing and dusty and cranky and I've got a headache of the gods and a runny nose that could kill a small child ... but I wouldn't have it any other way.


MOOD: badasthmatiredbutexcited

BACKGROUND: They Might Be Giants "Flood"


Right now I'm going through dusty old boxes in storage that I haven't fooled around with since the old days at Deer Valley High. Graduating class of 1995 which seems further and further away the more times I move. My asthma is going crazy from all the dust that has travelled to Sacramento from Glendale, Arizona, dust from last century. Lot of memories, lot of past, lot of pain and a lot of laughs.


Old lettters and patches I never put on my letterman jacket. Old ass video tapes Tom and Joey and Wedow and I bought (or stole from that one fucking lamp shop) at a whim that maybe I've watched once or twice. Shit that I stole from Heather, that fucking bitch. Old bullshit awards I won during high school for my journalism or speech or theater work. Stuff that I stole from my job at the worst Hollywood Video ever wroght by man. Thousands of pictures of Sarah and Matt and Saint Mary Snow, may she rest in peace. Old notebooks where I spilled my soul about pain and suffering that in retrospect was nothing less than growing up. Some stuff painful, some stuff a happy rememberance of brighter times.


Tons of old casette tapes of music that I can't believe I used to rock out to way back before I gave a crap about music. My musical tastes, now that I've finally had my musical awakening, are wild and bizarre, just like myself. Finger Eleven, Outkast, Authority Zero, Jim's Big Ego, Groovie Ghoulies, Rolling Stones, Bowling for Soup, White Stripes, Primus. But I see all these casettes and I just wonder why the hell did I ever get myself into this crap. Grateful Dead, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles band, Digital Underground, Neil Diamond, Paula Abdul, each one bringing back a flood of memories. In fact, listening to "Flood" by the Giants right now, I can't help thinking about Tom and Joey and Kevin Williams and "Daif" and that one short chick that I made out with in the back of the set of "Once Upon a Matress" that wanted to blow me. Good times.


Backstage, opening night of the play, nervous as all hell, but still cranking up "Birdhouse in your Soul" and throwing fear to the wind. And all of us not being afraid, not being scared. All of us dancing. Just dancing and singing and not giving a goddamn about the sold out crowd outside because all that exists is the moment and the moment is you dancing and singing and a Birdhouse in your Soul.


Does anybody out there know if "The Underground," that store that sold all the illegal shit, is still open in Tempe on Scottsdale Road? I spent so much time and money at that place, buying and renting nasty TOO FAR german porn videos and bootlegs of tv shows and nasty driver's ed videos and their "information packets" which taught me how to rob vending machines, although I've yet to ever try my knowledge in that field. Well, since my parents are moving back to Phoenix, I'd totally spend a fortune at the place if its still around, buy some stuff to get back at some people. Basic stuff.


But memories are only rememberances of things that already happened. I'm always haunted by my memories of the past and all my mistakes. That's what really ruined most of my relationships. I was with Sarah and I was missing Susan. I was with Debby and I was missing Sarah. THAT was stupid seeing as how great Debby is and how much of a cunt monster Sarah is. Then I was with Collyne and I missed Debby, but that was ok because Collyne was ... well, I won't say. You get the idea.


Its seemes as if I've wasted a majority of my life worrying about the mistakes I've made in the past. I just have such a hard time forgetting all the stupid mistakes I've made and all the times I've been hurt or rejected or laughed at and so every second I'm awake I have all those mistakes replaying through my head and it hurts sometimes.


But not now. Now I'm happy.


I spent so much time in regret, sad and drunk and depressed. But here in Sacramento I have been reborn in happiness and in strength and in the joys of finally maturing. I have a great and wonderful girlfriend named Naleen and she is my entire life, her and her two year old daughter Emerald. She calls me da-da now. The other day she snuck into our bed to sleep with us and she put my arm around her. I woke up and she was just looking at me, touching my face, smiling. It was amazing. I almost cried. I've never been happier than I am being a father to Emerald and a boyfriend to Naleen. And people ask me if I'm nervous moving in with her tomorrow. And I say no. I'm happy. I have a family now and I wouldn't give it up for the world.


And the rest of my life is doing great as well. As soon as my director friend gets his white anglo-saxon protestant ass gets off his San Francisco chair, I have three films in pre-production, one of them being a thriller set to be shot in Alcatraz penitentary, the other being a comedy about bad "Rat Pack" impersonators in Vegas. And me, Esteban Galindo, I'll be Joey Bishop. A skinny, manic mexican guy playing the jewish Joey Bishop. I'm such a mensch.


And beyond that there is a very strong relationship happening between myself and Mr. Lobo, the host of television's "Cinema Insomnia." After helping him with a special midnight showing of "Ed Wood" at Sacramento's own Creat theater last October and acting my own special brand of scenery-chewing for his "Bucket of Blood" episode (now available for sale - go to Mr. Lobo's web page for more info.), Mr. Lobo and myself are in talks to stage at the Crest theater this October a massive festival of rock and metal and punk music and Ed Wood films. It's a dream I've had since I can remember. It's going to be called "ED-WOODSTOCK" and its going to happen at the end of this year. Its the culmination of a dream I've had for a very long time. Joey knows about it. Michelle knows about it. I know Tom knows. and finally it will happen, music and Ed Wood's films coming together in a way I've only dreamed about until now. My dream is finally going to become a reality. I am so excited.




Mr. Lobo and Reverend Steve talking Woodism


Plus, on Feb. 15th, I'll be at "No Way Out," my first pay-per-view event. Live. I'll be there live. It doesn't sound real. It sounds like some sort of dream. That's why I love my little Naleen. No other girlfriend I've ever had would have ever bought me tickets to go see a wrestling pay-per-view live. I can finally say without any sort of hesitation that she loves me and she would never hurt me and she wants to be with me and make me happy. I feel so much joy and pride and love in my life now that sometimes I feel like my heart might explode. I've never been happier.


So some of my memories I throw away and some of my memories I put in a box and wait to unpack at my new place. I think that I've finally got to a point in my life where I don't have to lug all my pain and suffering from the past around with me wherever I go. And that rocks ass, just so you know. Now, on the eve of me moving in to a new apartment, a new neighborhood, a new place, all my cares are being thrown away with the Glendale dust. Maybe I should bre worrying, but I'm not. I'm cranking up "Birdhouse in your Soul" and I'm dancing. Just dancing and singing and living for right now. Just dancing.