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


Sunday, August 29, 2004

Last night I drank like I had something to prove.

MOOD: tiredandabithungover

BACKGROUND: Bootleg DVD of "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban"

Natasha and I decided to throw our friend Marisa a surprise birthday party. Marisa is a very sweet, very beautiful woman and someone who I honestly and sincerely love and care about. And Natasha is all about her. We both are. She's been through a lot of painfull stuff, some of which reminds me of what I went through with The Big Him, so Tash and I both wanted her 21st birthday to be something really special. So we had a modestly sized suprize alcohol fest for her. She seemed really touched and suprised and moved by the whole entire thing. I thought she knew that we weren't really taking her to the movies, but apparently we did suprise her. It really made me feel good about myself to know that she was touched by what we did.

Then the alcohol started flowing pretty fast. I hadn't eated a single thing all day so the Red Stripes and the Smirnoff and the monstrous punch went straight to my head and the next thing I know I'm detached from myself, watching myself enjoy the entire party in sped up slow motion. Hard to explain. Strange night. But unlike the last party I went to at Nikara's house ... actually, it was Nikara's party ... I was shy and reserved and lonely. It was so nice to be in a party situation and be able to laugh and be myself and not skulk the whole time.

I'm sure that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

Now we all need to have another going away party over at The Place That Never Cards. That last one I went to was fun as hell. It's just that, in order for that to happen, someone at work needs to leave.

"Hey Kevin, here's a pamphlet for Kent, Ohio. Doesn't it look nice?"

I'm going to a taping of WWE Smackdown this tuesday. I'm psyched. I've been to four Raw taping but this will be my first Smackdown taping. So I'm really excited. I feel like a child before Christmas. Silly, I know, but that doesn't change my feelings of excitement. But Smackdown won't come to me without a hefty price. First I have to close at work tonight then open up tomorrow. It's like in Shawshank Redemption how he had to crawl through the sewage pipe to break free of prison. That's me with work and Smackdown. That sucks ass that I have to do this but I'm willing to do it to get my hands on an Eddie Guerrero t-shirt.

On a random note, I am deathly afraid of both flying and snakes, so why is it that I'm not scared of airplanes flown by snakes? "This is your captain speaking ... hiss." That doesn't scare me at all.

Monday, August 23, 2004

I'm tired of finding out all these things about her past.

MOOD: blank

BACKGROUND: Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Vol. 2

See, my past is vaguely boring and unexciting. I try to overdramatize my past so that I can look back at a wild and crazy past life but all that is is me overexaaggerating everything. My past is boring and uneventfull and it's only the events that have happened recently like, say, the last four years, that would make a really great novel one day. Shit, I hadn't had sex until I was legally able to drink. Ok, yeah, I'm a nerd. That might come as a shock to you but not to me.

And I have days like this when I'm left home alone with nothing to do except take care of the baby and watch my dvd's and feel lonely. And this is what happens ... I'm looking for something, like a movie or a patch or a comic book and I accidentally find something from her past that makes me feel like an idiot.

It shouldn't matter, right? Because it's in the past. But it still stings a little. Like "Chasing Amy." That's a damn good movie. Fuck I'm lonely.

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

It's past one in the morning and I can't sleep.

MOOD: sorebittiredandbuzzed

BACKGROUND: old Newsradio eps.

I've been getting extremely depressed at work lately. I don't know why. I think it's because, working in the sort of detached children's area that I am the manager of, it can be very quiet and lonely working all alone in there. It can be sad and depressing sometimes and after lunch I get hit in the stomache with an all too familiar sense of sadness and loneliness and fear. It stinks. But today, perhaps in anticipation of going out with Natasha and our coolest friend Marisa, today was the least painful day I've had in a long time.

Emerald was yelling and screaming tonight. It was tough. Sometimes it's a good fatherly day and sometimes, like tonight, she won't want to leave her nana's house and scream until she gets sick. My daughter Emerald is incredibly sweet to me when no one's looking. As long as there is no one else around other than her and me, then she treats me like I am her best friend and her mom and her dad. It's amazing. She'll make me feed her. She'll cuddle with me. She'll sing songs about how much she loves me. She does, too. It's fun. We'll sit down and watch old Sifl & Olly episodes and Aqua Teen and Spongebob and we'll play and have fun. Really sweet but only occasionally.

Went to a party a few days ago. I thought that we were only going to stay "for an hour or two" but we ended up staying there for over seven hours, Tasha seriously getting her drink on and me alone in the house being all quiet and antisocial. The thing is, I'm quiet and shy around people that I don't know well so you throw me in a birthday party with a bunch of too-cool-for-school tattooed young people that I don't know and I'll just freeze up. I can talk to Ian and Marisa and Jessie and Gwen forever but I'm always shy and reserved around new people. So the bad time that I had cannot fully be attributed to Natasha. I just need to try to open up more.

I just, and I mean !JUST!, got an e-mail from my reporter friend in Premiere magazine. They were going to print an article on me in the October issue of Premiere and now it looks, last minute decision, they're pushing the article back to November. That hurts a bit. That hurts so much that I think I'm going to go have myself another beer. Thankfully, though, Stuart, the INCREDIBLY sexy-voiced writer for Rue Morgue magazine and now legally baptized Woodite, is still planning on running a major article on me and my religion in their October issue. That should actually be better off for me in the long run. This way, my web site won't freak out and crash when the two mags run articles about me at the exact same time. So, hey, smile and look happy.

If you or, let's get realistic here, ANYONE IN THE GODDAMN WORLD, actually LIKES what I write and how I write it, then go on down to Bowling for where I will soon, eventually, one of these days, when I get off my manic depressive, obsessive compulsive, skinny brown ass and do me some actual work for a change, be a contributer. One of these days. I totally promise.

Now don't get me wrong. My life is very good. I have a great new family, the all new Galindo Family, Version 1.0 featuring Reverend Steve, Woodian Angel Natasha, and introducing Emerald as the bah-bah! Natasha and I faced problems recently regarding things that I really can't talk about, but we've gone past them now and we're incredibly stronger and more secure in ourselves and in our love for one another.

And guess what> I can officially say that I actually have ONE FRIEND! Her name is Marisa and we go out and I lean on her, literally, and she has a wild and crazy life with washing machines and ponies and stalkers and sometimes she hugs me and sometimes she tells me bedtime stories. She is the best and I can honestly say that I love and care for her. I just hope I don't scare her away with my freaky Latino Heat.

And the "Second Coming of Wood" is almost upon us as well. The First Coming of Wood happened right before the end of the century when an article from the Associated Press led to me being interviewed in more than 30 radio stations all over the world. The highlights ... "Mancow's Morning Mayhem" is a dumb jackass and nothing more than a cheap Howard Stern wannabe. "The Mark and Brian Show" was great because they are INCREDIBLY friendly. was really nice, too, despite being a crappy internet radio station. And Buck Wolf with ABC News was and still IS the coolest man in New York City. That was fun. A lot of press all over Woodism and all over me. Cool stuff.

Now here I am, a twenty-seven year old skinny little Mexican guy with a girlfriend, a daughter, a cool and also occasionally depressing little job, and two articles about to me that are set to print in both Premiere magazine and Rue Morgue magazine. This is exciting and a little bit unnerving. Suddenly all these questions pop up. Will things change in my life? Will I change? Will my job remain the same? Will I ever have enough money to make my dream of regularly being able to afford eating at KFC come true? Will my damn brother ever drop off those season passes to the State Fair that got sent to his place? Will my shitty little '86 Mercedes ever stop acting like fucking Hitler and run for a change?

These are the questions facing me. They are pretty huge, confusing questions, ones that are so massive, so epic, that I can't even begin to think of answers.

Friday, August 13, 2004

I hope to GOD and ED WOOD that Natasha doesn't go out clubbing with the girls tonight.

MOOD: worriedhungrynervous

BACKGROUND: Flaming Lips "Do You Realize?"

I absolutely, positively, utterly fear the "girls night out" and so does every man, although most men simply hide it in themselves. I would imagine that, if I still had a ton of friends, that I would go out tonight and down a few tall boys with some guy friends, but that's not me. Not anymore, anyway.

This is the reason why I don't want her to go out tonight. No, that's wrong. It's not that I don't want her to go. She can if she wants. I am just afraid of her going and this is why - a man has to struggle to find someone to be with, someone to date, someone to love. It is an effort. It is work. And yet all that Natasha would have to do to cheat on me is to do is go to the club. Natasha is going to be hit on a million times by a million different guys and each and every one of them will think that she's single and that they can have sex with her.

And I have such a low self-esteem that it will be a miracle if I survive the night with all my fingernails intact.

Tonight is going to consist solely of me and the baby and my Space Ghost episodes. Maybe I'll pop in my Ed Wood DVD or my video copy of I Woke Up Early the Day I Died, get my Wood on. I can't say that I'll be alone because I'll be here with the baby, but she'll be asleep around eight or nine, so that pretty much leaves me here with three beers, two dollars, and very little food.

I DO have "Super Chunky, Extra Crunchy" peanut butter. So yay me!

Another lonely day for Reverend Steve.

MOOD: tiredsoremoodyandfullofgas

BACKGROUND: Get Up Kids "On A Wire" (good lonely day music)

And therein lies the strange, bizarre conflict of my life, the fact that I have 3,000 followers worldwide and a stupid little semi-quasi D-level celebrity status but I only have about five real friends and I will be spending most of this day alone. Natasha is at work and the baby is at her nana's house seeing her "real" father, an geeky emotionless cracker jackass whom MY daughter calls by his name, not by "daddy" or "father" because those names are reserved for me, her father, the one that tucks her in every night and plays with her and makes her smile, not that I'm angry or bitter or anything. Sometimes this father thing can be tough.

Woke up at ten in the afternoon to an empty house. It felt so sad to roll over and have no body there to hold on to and drool all over. But on the negatively positive side, it felt so damn good to wake up that late. So now I'm here watching hours upon hours of Adult Swim and listening to my cds. Authority Zero, The Beta Band, Get Up Kids, Common Rider, Groovie Ghoulies, Digger, Kill Bill Vol. 1, AFI, The Format, The Big Lebowski. Drinking coffee, which in retrospect seems strange seeing as how I have absolutely nothing to do today, so why am I needlessly getting myself all wired and awake? I don't know. I'm just lonely. Another lonely day for Steve.

So anyways, guess who has an eating disorder! Right here! It's not that I don't like eating. It's just that in my head I have so much to do with my family and my work and my children's section and my church and my writings that I can't slow down to eat. And then, when I or somebody else forces myself to eat it's usually a MASSIVE amount of food to make up for all the food I hadn't eaten. So I'm basically torturing my stomache. It's insaine. Maybe that's why I'm drinking the coffee, to feed the beast anything but food.

Entertained company last night. Marisa from work. I love her so much. She reminds me of every girlfriend I've ever really loved but with all the mean annoying bitch parts surgically removed. She is the best and I really do see us being really wonderfull friends. She sat on the couch, I leaned against her, and Natasha drank beers on the foot of the couch as we all DIDN'T watch wrestling on tv. It was fun. It rocked.

I have to go pick up the baby now.

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

I feel, after working long and hard to fight old demons and try to strengthen our relationship and finally succeeding, like I'm back in high school feeling that bold rush of a new relationship, even though we've been together for well over a year now.

MOOD: happyandcontent

BACKGROUND: Channel 13 News and Sneezing

My life is good. My life is damn good. My parents are talking to me. My work is good. My twice a week storytimes for children are starting to be packed house, standing room only sort of things. My daughter is talking like mad. I'm going to be in both Premiere magazine and in Rue Morgue magazine as well as an interview on their radio show in Canada. My live show in October is still a go. I am making friends. (Marisa rocks my sweet, sweet ass) And I am in love.

Plus the sex is amazing.