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


Tuesday, May 31, 2005

We had our second ultrasound today, I'm happily married, I might transfer to another store, and I plan on giving Fatty Arbuckle a chance at the championship title soon.

MOOD: tiredwiredandhorny

BACKGROUND: Pink Floyd "The Wall (Part Two)"

So, let's go down the list. Number one. My wife Natasha and I (and it rocks so much ass that I can say "my wife" now) went to the radiology center and we got us some sweet ass black and whites of our soon to be baby. It was an incredible moment. Sure this was our second ultrasound but the last one we had was when Tasha was eight weeks and one day pregnant. The baby looked like a grainy black and while polaroid of a peanut. Now you can see the face and the head and the feet. It was a moving experience. The spine stood out like it was stolen from Mecha Godzilla. I could see it chewing. Chewing. That's what the dumpy white trash den mother doctor lady said. I think that the baby was really just talking to itself. Just like its daddy.

I said "it's" right now. That is sure to piss off a number of people. We didn't find out the sex of the baby. Personally, I like it that way. In an age where science can do frightening things, I think it's nice to let some things come naturally. This is sure to piss off a number of people, mainly my parents who somehow don't seem to believe me when I say that we don't know the sex yet. My mom actually told me "Well, I think you're lying because you're due in September and so is Brittney Spears and I saw that she knows what sex her baby is so there's no reason why you shouldn't know." My mom speaks in run-on sentances.

Secondly, I am happily married, thank you. I never thought that life could ever be this good, and this is coming from a person who spent a good amount of their teenage years wearing black and smoking cloves and reading poetry at a booth at Denny's, so coming from me that means a lot. Surprisingly, I'm not surprised that I'm married as much as I'm surprised that I'm not surprised that I'm married. I never thought I'd ever get married but now that I am it just feels so right. I've never been this happy before, especially now that we're fully moved into our big new house.

Oh hell yeah!


Holy revolting crack popes how I love my life.

Thirdly, I am the best at what I do and what I do is get myself busy as a full time father, minister and corporate bookseller. I'm in charge of the kid's section of a bookstore and despite NOT being a boring middle aged white woman, which all heads of the children's section are, I am incredibly good. I'm the best, quite frankly, and anyone who has been to one of my storytimes or who has heard the volume level of a meeting of the Harry Potter club knows this as a fact. In fact, another corporate bookstore in town just had a lead position open up in its children section and the powers that be in the store are barganing for me to come over there.

Wow. I wonder how all those date raping seventeen year old future NBA superstars feelwhen teams are fighting for them. The truth is, I have hit my own self-imposed glass wall. If I was gunning for promotions like my friend Nicholas is, I could have had like nine promotions by now. Hell, I could have been a store manager or a community relations manager by now were it not for the fact that in order to take the kids section away from me they'd have to pry it from my cold, brown, dead hands.

There's no way I can get higher up without giving up what I'm best at and what I'm best at is working in the kid's section. So I'm basicaly just impressing people and waiting for my yearly raise. So I told a certain store manager at the prospective bookstore today that if they could give me a raise then I would seriously consider transferring. The only things that are stopping me are the relationships I have forged with all of my co-workers.

I am an extremely strange individual, me, the long-haired skinny mexican founder of the Church of Ed Wood and now husband and father. But somehow I've found a workplace that accepts my church, listens to my offensive ramblings, does not get frightened too much at my INTENSELY DISTURBING refridgerator art, and allows me the freedom to say and do whatever I please. Just a few days ago I called our receiving manager "a smooth pimp who loves the pussy." That rocks ass. WIll this OTHER store allow me to call semi-managerial types a bunch of smooth pimps who love the pussy? I think not.

And finally, I plan on ONCE AGAIN starting up my old wrestling federation. I'm somewhat embarrased about this. It is something that is shrouded in secrecy, a wrestling federation so secret and exclusive that only five or ten people in this ENTIRE PLANET know about it's existance. This is a wrestling federation that had it's heyday in 1998 and 1999 but abruptly stopped around the beginning of the century. There it has lied dormant for many years. But unpacking all my crap these past few weeks, I just happened to have stumbled on to a few old matches.

It occured to me that after Fatty Arbuckle lost his first round championship tournament match to Jesus Christ, he seemed to dissappear. That's a shame because I remember Fatty and he was a darn good wrestler, almost as good as some of the federation's champions like God, Satan, The Choir Boy, Elvis Presley, and even myself. he held the championship title for only a week in March of 1999 but then he lost it the next week in a 4-way-dance between himself, The Choir Boy, God and Levar Burton. And that's a shame.

So I'm bringing it back, the Galindo Video Wrestling Association, the only place where Satan, Adolph Hitler, Malcom X, Ed Wood, Moses, Abe Vigoda, Jesus, and Ho Chi Minh (to name but a few) wrestle famous wrestlers and the people I know.

It was my personal little geekfest, changing all the characters on WWF NO MERCY for the N64 to historical characters and people I know, having them wrestle each other and then writing out the results like some sort of wrestling magazine from hell. Well, it's been five years but it's coming back. And it's coming back right here!

Check back soon for more information on the GVWA. If you have any cool, insaine, homorous or offensive wrestler ideas, e-mail them to me at Meanwhile, here are some pictures of my soon-to-be-born baby ...


Thursday, May 19, 2005

I want to make movie reviews for normal people.

MOOD: coffiedupandhungryashell

BACKGROUND: The Bled "Porcelain Hearts and Hammers for Teeth"

I have this friend named Michael Burns. I've gotten to calling him Boo-urns lately, like in the Simpsons. He's a Catholic but he somehow manages to balance his religion and his personal life to a point where he can be friends with a long haired, foul mouthed cult leader like myself. He's working to become a journalist and he's becoming quite the good writer. His movie reviews are well written, smart, intelligent, and funny. Click here if you want to read some of his stuff. It's good stuff, too. And it's given me an idea. More on that later, though. First, let me backtrack.

Yesterday was our last day of our vacation-slash-honeymon. Here's a list of things that I did:

-stayed in an extremely long line so my daughter could get the Little Mermaid's autograph, reminding me that I am now a father and as such must sacrafice my own desires to ride the Pirates so that my daughter can have a perfect Disneyland trip

-saw some of the world's biggest tits on some of the nastiest women who were
married to men who wore some of the worst t-shirts ever (example: "First Jesus, Then Nascar")

-bought beer and porn from a liquor store owned by Apu from the Simpsons

-kept up a time honored tradition started by my friend Tom Wegner and I in high school and spent wa-a-a-a-ay too much time in the Main Street Cinema

-drove from Sacramento, California to Los Angeles, California and finally to Anaheim, California so that I could visit the new park, Disney's California Adventure, a look at life in California

-spent so much time outdoors and travelling in cars that I finally got as dark as "my people" usually are, which is much much darker than me

-walked on, prayed over, and touched the spot where "Circle-Vision" used to be, seeing as how it IS a holy Ed Wood location (as explained in Lesson 15 of the holy LESSONS OF WOOD: see for more information)

-met and talked shop with a Woodite and an avid Vampira fan

-geeked out over the Haunted Mansion and preached about how Disney completely STOLE the seance scene from the mansion from Ed Wood's film "Night of the Ghouls"

We were exhausted when we finally got back but instead of coming home and crashing, we decided to go downtown and watch the last Star Wars movie ever. Now, the last thing I want to do is be one of the millions of twentysomething males busy updating their blogs with Star Wars reviews, but seeing as how this is the last Star Wars movie ever made, I really want to put my two cents in on this.

See, the problem I have with movie reviews is that they're always written by people who are really into film and went through journalism school and film school, people who have a lot of money and people who are frighteningly intellectual, people who hate popular films simply because they are popular and who write rave reviews of obscure french films simply because they're obscure french films.

No offence to Michael. His stuff is good. He's one of the good ones and he's one of my best friends. But almost everytime I read a review it's geared at upper-middle class yuppies and not to normal people like me.

So, here it is, MY review of Star Wars, a normal person review written by a man with only $11 to his name and is eating ramen noodles because he can't afford to eat real food. Here it is ...

Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith is a fucked up movie. Fucked up! How dare George Lucas say that this isn't a film for kids and then at the same time run ads for the film during Spongebob Squarepants and release early reader books for kids on Empside III? That's fucking bullshit and George Lucas should be ashamed of himself. He is a dick for doing that.

First off, this film isn't for kids. All the clueless parents who brought their little ones to the midnight showing should have their kids taken away. The CPA should have a Revenge of the Sith wing developed for children staying up late crying because of the nightmares they had at the hands of George Lucas.

This isn't for kids and some adults for that matter. Anakin's turn to the dark side is horrifically violent with heads rolling and bodies flying. But that's not all. At times it's one of the cheesiest romance movies ever made. At times it's one of the cheesiest science fiction movies ever made. And at times it's one of the most horrifically violent science fiction movies ever made. And at times there's dialogue so bad that it even rivals Titanic.

There are times where you will be cowering back in horror, then laughing at the film, then cowering again, all within the same scene. But, seriously, all dick-slapping aside, it really is a great movie. It doesn't hold a candle to The Empire Strikes Back, but that's because Empire was dark and moody without having to show too much. Empire doesn't blow it's wad. Sith, however, blows it's wad all over the audience, showing tons of death and battles and murders and fights. Empire was quietly moody and dark, whereas Sith just yells at you for two and a half hours.

This isn't a bad review. It's a good one. George Lucas seems to want this to be the best of the prequel films and so he has created the best lightsaber battle and the best starship battles ever seem in a Star Wars film. This is a movie that will appease both the clueless white yuppies and the Star Wars geeks, just as long as they can stand a lot of death sprinkles with random pinches of cheesy crap.

Bottom line, this is the last Star Wars movie ever. This film could be two and a half hours of George Lucas farting and people would still wait in like for weeks to see it. And regardless of what I write here or what any hip internet blogger writes. You will watch this movie. But, just to let you know, this film ain't for kids. This isn't the same kid-friendly Star Wars movie you watched in your pajamas in the living rom of your paerent's house in the eighties. It's matured. It's cheesy, violent, stupid, awesome, horrific, action packed, and one hell of a movie, a great last film to end the series.

But, hey, seriously, leave your kids at home for this one, ok?

Saturday, May 14, 2005

In five hours, my three-year-old daughter, my brand new wife, me, and my ipod shuffle are hitting the highway on our way to Disneyland.

MOOD: nervousexcitedandhappilymarried

BACKGROUND: Elvis Vs JXL "A Little Less Conversation"

The last time I went to Disneyland was on December 30th, 2001. That wasn't too long ago but it seems like a completely different lifetime. And it pretty much was, too. I was still living in Phoenix at the time, although I was just two months away from moving to Sacramento. That was a huge move for me. I lived in Arizona for twenty-five years. That's a huge time for one person to live in one place. I still miss it, although I think I've finally adapted to being in California. It's just the little things now. They don't have Peter Piper Pizza in Sacramento. I miss Wallace and Ladmo. And when people complain about 90-degree heat in Sac, I just laugh in their faces.

I had successfully beaten a severe but quiet bout with suicide after 9/11, like I think most of us over here did. It was such a strange time. I think that all americans felt like somehow there was some invisible wall seperating us and the rest of the world, that when we heard about sixty people dying in a terrorist attack in Ireland or somewhere else, that something that horrible could never happen here. Once the world trade centers went down, everyone in the world became depressed, sat on the couch glued to CNN, and looked over their shoulders constantly. In my case, it was less shoulder-glancing and more hardcore drinking, but everyone delt with it in their own way. 'Round about Christmas, when we decided to plan a road trip to Disneyland, I had just started to feel better, although the drinking was still there.

Five of us went to Disneyland, me, my girlfriend at the time who will remain nameless(who would often tell me that I had a drinking problem while driving A-A-A-A-AND smoking pot, making her one of America's greatest hypocrites of all time), her sister, her brother, and random friend. We drove there, a hardcore, non-stop drive from Phoenix to Disneyland. Everyone in that family drives like they're on crack, so with my girlfriend's brother at the wheel, we got there in some time frame that is almost physically impossible. But we did it.

It's strange how much Disneyland can change in just a few years. I hadn't been there since I was dating Sarah, this incredibly cute woman who decided to go to college, have sex with two other men, then become a lesbian. That was about three years before. Suddenly the parking lot is being turned into another park and there's these Fastpass tickets, so now I'm waiting in line to get a ticket to be able to wait in another line smaller than the waiting in line line. I remember being really confused. It was Disneyland but it was changing and I didn't like that. It was a Disneyland I wasn't sure about anymore.

Plus, what with my girlfriend being one of the world's biggest potheads, halfway through the day we exited the park and walked back to the parking lot. I was so pissed off. How dare this woman tell ME that I have a drinking problem? I mean, I probably DID have one, but I refuse to be told that by a mindless little pothead. So we walked back to the parking lot and I was forced to look after my girlfriend's little sister at the tram station while her and her brother and random friend went into their car and smoked a bowl.

That fucking bitch.

Now, there's two things that I secretly geek out about. Hardly anyone knows about this. Those two things are A) certain musicals that will remain nameless, and B) Disneyland. I absolutely love Disneyland. I spend hours sometimes learning all those teeny, tiny little useless facts, the trivia bits of information that nobody really needs to know. My eyes get wider than a manga character at Disneyland. It means the world to me. And now I'm forced to stop being at Disneyland because these redneck potheads want to smoke out? And she has the balls to say that I had a drinking problem? I remember being so upset that I wanted to cry, right there in the tram station, right there in front of her little sister.

That soured Disneyland for me for a very long time. The mix of the changing park and the hypocritical pothead woman just ruined the idea of doing a roadtrip to Disneyland. It just didn't seem that special anymore.

Now, just over three years after that, I'm living in California and I'm about to do a road trip, taking my daughter and my new wife to Disneyland. And I know that it's a Disneyland that I don't really know anymore, so I'm a bit skeptical, but I'm feeling good about it. I really am. My ipod is going to help, chocked full of Magnetic Fields and Elvis Costello and the Beatles and Sublime and the White Stripes and Groovie Ghoulies and Armor for Sleep and ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead. Listening to that on the road will cool my nerves, I think. I feel nervous, like I used to feel back when I was acting all the time, that feeling you get backstage when you're about to go on and you know your parents are in the audience. I know it's a silly way to feel about a roadtrip but that's how I feel.

Plus, there's no bitchy pothead coming with me on this trip. Instead, it's the two coolest women on the planet. It's my daughter and my new wife. Wow. I have a wife. That just sounds amazing. Sometimes Natasha and I look into each other's eyes and just say it over and over again. I'm her husband. I am her husband and she is my wife. That's incredible. It's amazing but it also feels right. Nothing has ever felt so right in my entire life.

These past few days have been amazing. I can't believe I'm married and at the same time I can't believe that I ever dated anyone who wasn't her. I can't believe I ever had a life without her. I can't believe I was ever so stupid as to ever say "I love you" to anyone who wasn't Natasha. And now she's Natasha Galindo. And now we're married, not just Natasha and I but also her daughter, Emerald. I had sort of emotionally adopted her as my daughter but now it's more official. Now we're a family. Now we're together. And now we're going on a trip that's half summer vacation, half family honeymoon.

I'm nervous. I know I shouldn't be but I am. But it also feels right. It feels exciting. And I have never felt this happy in my entire life. I've been saying that a lot. That makes me ever happier.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

This story is about Harry Potter, a British sci-fi magazine, and what being "faux" means to me.

MOOD: hungrybuthappilymarried

BACKGROUND: Monster Magnet "Powertrip"

I am a simple man, despite what other people may think. I don't think that I fall into the mental category that people place me into before meeting me. People apparently expect a lot of things from a person who started their own religion based on Ed Wood and I seem to never meet any of these claims. I think, if anything, I'm a lot more normal than people seem to think I am.

YES I founded the Church of Ed Wood which currently has over 3,000 followers. That's true. But I also am happily married, really into comic books, I'm a huge fan of Godzilla, do absolutely no drugs, read a lot of books, am deeply into music, hardly ever drink, am one of the poorest men you'll know, own a shitty car, and I work at a bookstore where I do crazy storytimes and run a Harry Potter club for kids.

Those are the two things that really makes my job special, being able to read stories and color with my kids and to get all loud and silly at the Harry Potter meetings. Plus, I'm great at my job. I don't mean to toot my own horn but BEEP-BEEP. I know kids books and want to help people find what they're looking for.

So here's the gist of my story ... I was at work yesterday, preparing for last night's big Harry Potter club meeting. It's at six pm, so I get to work a little bit before noon and spend the entire day getting ready for it, getting activities and trivia questions ready and stuff. I go to our magazine section and spend a good ten-twenty minutes flipping through sci-fi and movie magazines looking for Harry Potter stuff.

I pick up the May 2005 issue of SFX magazine. It's a British magazine. And in it there's an article about Vampira. Wow, I wasn't expecting that. So I read the article. And in it, they say "There's even a FAUX religion called The Church of Ed Wood."

They called my religion faux. And I've been pissed ever since.

This is usually where Natasha, my wonderful wife Natasha sets the record straight by informing me that it is not that they called me faux ... they called my religion faux. I always get geeky excitement everytime the church gets mentioned in a magazine or a newspaper. But Tasha is the one who tells me that I am not in the magazine, but my religion. But to me, there is no separating me and my religion. I've been an Ed Wood fan since I was in sixth grade. I created the church in 1996. I've spent these past nine years creating beliefs and ideals and preaching them to the world. I have bled for this religion. I have cried for this religion.

As far as I am concerned, I AM my religion. I AM The Church of Ed Wood. And SFX magazine called ME faux, me and the 3,000 + followers who also call themselves Woodites.

SO, if you have some time on your hands, here's a link to contact information for the people at SFX magazine. E-mail them and let them know how wrong they are.

Friday, May 6, 2005

CD TITLE: Steve and Tasha Wedding Music

1) Ed & Kathy - Howard Shore

2) Sweet Jane - Cowboy Junkies

3) Belgium (Acoustic) - Bowling For Soup

4) In Spite Of All The Danger - The Beatles

5) Let's Be Natural - The Rutles

6) Carry This Picture - Dashboard Confessional

7) Wish You Were Here - Wyclef Jean

8) Kiss From A Rose - Seal

9) Stay in Love - Jim's Big Ego

10) My Beloved Monster - Eels

11) Overdue - The Get Up Kids

12) A Save Situation - Format

13) The Summer Of '91 - ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

14) Lost In the Plot - The Dears

15) Comin' From Tuscon - Limbeck

16) Burning Love - Elvis Presley

17) Love Is Only A Feeling - The Darkness

18) Harvest Moon - Bedlam

19) The Good Times Are Killing Me (live) - Modest Mouse

20) Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - Elton John

21) One More Cup Of Coffee - The White Stripes

22) Broken - Seether Feat. Amy Lee

Thursday, May 5, 2005

This is something that, for personal and slightly secretive reasons that have to do with Natasha's best friend stealing all of her wedding thunder, Natasha and I have done a really smashing job of keeping secret from almost everybody around us, but ... tonight at 6:40 pm I, Reverend Steve Galindo, will be getting married.

Holy shit! I'll be getting married. Holy revolting crack popes! I'M GETTING MARRIED! Can you believe that? In three years I've gone from crying drunk at the dirtbar to getting married and expecting a baby in September. Wow, my life just keeps getting better and better.

Natasha and I were originally planning to have a huge Woodian wedding in September of 2005 but then one of Natasha's friends decided to get married, scheduling her wedding a few days before ours, purposely stealing all of our thunder. So, we decided to push our wedding back to May of 2006 but, to take any pressure off, we decided a few months ago to go down to the courthouse and get married on May 2005 so that our big ceremony will mark our one year as husband and wife.

I'm not scared, not too nervous. I don't see this as being some major step. I mean, it IS a huge step but Tasha and I already love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives with each other. That's the hard part. I never wanted to have a child and she never wanted to get married. I saw myself just fucking and drinking my entire life away and she saw herself as a single mother, never finding someone who would accept both her and her daughter. But once I sat down and started talking to Natasha, I fell for her so hard it was silly. I fell even harder when I finally met Emerald for the first time. It was magic. It was fate. Now it's two years later and we're going to get married and we're expecting our first child together in September.

We are already a family. We've been one for a long time now. The all new Galindo family, version 1.0 - now with 60% less alcohol! We're already a mother and a father. Marriage is nothing more than a change of terminology for us.

The only negative part of paradise is that my parents are not here. I told them about the wedding. I told them a long time ago that we were going to go to the courthouse and get married. I told them wa-a-a-ay in advance with ample enough time for them to get out of work and get their butts out of Arizona and into Sacramento. I fucking told them! But apparently my father's work is much more important than his son getting married. His job is more important than me. I'm trying really hard not to be bitter about this but there's really no way for me to see this other than as a middle finger raised right in my big brown face.

What's helping me to deal with this is to see it in terms of Star Wars mythology.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away my mother and father were young and planning on getting married. But my mother's father, hereby named Tata, was too busy at his job at the smelter to go to his own daughter's wedding. And my father spent the rest of his life secretly hating Tata for not going to their wedding, carrying a lifelong inner grudge against Tata that lasted until less than a week ago when my father told me over the phone that he just couldn't get out of work.

Much like Darth Vader's trip to the dark side, I believe that my parent's inability to love me enough to come to my wedding was unavoidable. It was forseen by evil old men with dark robes who look like Ozzy meets the new pope and finally the circle is now complete.

I imagine in my head that the next time I see my parents that my dad will have the black Darth Vader helmet on.

So here I am, just now starting my third cup of coffee at my mother-in-law's house, just updating my blog and downloading Lazyeye songs for my ipod. Their song "High School Girl" is the shit. And in about an hour I have to get dressed in the new shirt and pants that my new mother bought me. I'm going to get married on a rainy Cinco de Mayo. I tell Natasha that us getting married on Cinco de Mayo is an integral part of her entrance into my mexican family. If we get divorced, it will have to be on the Day of the Dead. Natasha is right next to me on her cell phone breaking the news to her thunder-stealing friend who is the reason why we kept this whole thing secret in the first place. She's taking it quite well.

I'm trying to be positive, not get lost in parental negativity. I'm not going to let my parents ruin my wedding for me. It sucks that Natasha has like thirty million people coming with us to the courthouse - in actuality, more like twenty people - and all I have is Marisa. I guess I could have asked my brother to go but somehow I feel like he would have come merely out of pitty. No, I'm not going to think about all that stuff because those thoughts lead straight to depression. I refuse to let my brain ruin this day for me. There's a handfull of people coming from our work and I need to remind myself that they're coming for US and not just for her. That's the sort of worst case scenario mentality shit that I was raised with. Thanks, Darth.

In my head I can hear my father yell at me to cut my hair. I can hear him right now. "Stevie, you are NOT getting married with your hair long like that! This is an important day and you can't go get married looking like a bum!" It alternates between my father and my mother. I'm combatting those thoughts in pure geek style by slicing them in half with a lightsaber. A purple one like Sam Jackson.

I've been blessed with a really amazing life. It amazes me to think back at the skinny little drunk guy who used to get pissed drunk at Bennigan's at Metrocenter in Phoenix. He was lazy and stupid and careless. He was drunk and stoned and ignorant. He seems like a completely different person. The Steve in Phoenix was a different person from the Steve in California. I'm coming full circle. It's amazing. I wish to Wood that everyone's life could be as happy as my life is.