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


Saturday, November 30, 2013

Steve's Church-less Movie of The Week ...

"Bad Girls Go to Hell is an American 1965 sexploitation film, written, produced and directed by Doris Wishman. The film stars Gigi Darlene, George La Rocque, Barnard L. Sackett, Harold Key and Darlene Bennett.

This film marked the end of Wishman's lighthearted nudist camp series and nudie-cutie comedies (such as Nude on the Moon) and a shift toward serious stories dealing with sex and violence. The new wave of harder-edged sexploitation and violent 'roughie' films had already arrived a year earlier with David F. Friedman and Herschell Gordon Lewis' Scum of the Earth! (1963), Russ Meyer's Lorna (1964), Michael Findlay's Body of a Female, and Joseph P. Mawra's Olga's House of Shame and its sequels."

Friday, November 29, 2013

Inside My Personal Diary ...

I guess I could try and be manly and say that it's a notebook or a journal.

But whatever. It's a diary.

I've been doing some good work in it lately.

Here's a sampling ...

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

My Arch Emeny, Returned ...

There's a big grocery store near our house. Firelake. It's owned by the Indian Reservation people. It's local and it's huge and it's altogether pretty darn nice.

It is a nice place. Like it. Not knocking it.

There's a section in the back where they sell old used dvds for a dollar. I frequent it, obviously. I've gotten a bunch of bad movies there, horror movies, The Manster, Persepolis, Frogs, Killers from Space riffed by The Film Crew, and all for just a buck.

Good stuff, right?

I got one yesterday. It was The Bob Newhart Show, season one. I thought that was a pretty sweet score.

And for the first time, I took a close look at the "previously viewed" sticker.

The sticker underneath it is actually an old rental sticker, VERRRRRY old, from my old arch-rival, my first employer, the one that regularly worked me ten to thirteen hours straight in a single day and all alone with no lunch break or bathroom breaks like a goddamn slave (right to work states can kiss my ass) and then fired my brown ass after I tried fighting them about it. My district manager regularly tried to supress my protests and my store manager dreamed of being a porn actor and hired hot, dumb high school chicks who called in sick because they felt like it.

It was hell, the worst job I ever had. It drove me to drink and various criminal acts. I hated it so much that swore revenge on the whole corporation and never got a chance to see it thru because the whole company eventually went belly up.

Hollywood Video.

Hollywood fucking Video.

Sometimes I honestly regret that they went out of business before I could enact horrible revenge on them.

And it was truly going to be horrible revenge, too. Like, serious espionage ninja sabotage revenge shit. But now they're all closed down and i'm left with impotent revenge fantasies. Sucks.

Anyway, I'm trying not to take it out on Bob Newhart, you know?

It's not his fault.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Winds ...

There is a major storm on the way. Big one.

It should be hitting us in about three hours, according to the news.

People are scared. At the store I saw people getting supplies like Y2K paranoia. People here are all worried that this is going to be like the storms that ravaged parts of the midwest a week ago, not to mention it's the six month anniversary of the tornadoes that decimated Moore, Oklahoma.

The news isn't helping. They're just fueling the fear. They say freezing temperatures and freezing rain, ice and dangerous winds and all over nasty conditions.

I'm scared.

A bit.

Took these pictutes a few minutes ago.

It's coming.

Wish me luck.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

My Biggest Secret (Apparently) ...

This is a story about a secret.

It is a secret that I have somehow inadvertently managed to keep hidden from everyone in my life since last century.

It's not really that important of a secret and I didn't mean to intentionally hide it from everyone in the way that I did. But I did, somehow, and it wasn't until today when I was driving to work that I realize that I have successfully kept this part of my life hidden from everyone for god how long... almost 20 years now.

And, because it's me, this isn't just a story about a secret either. It's also a story about high school, about college, about missed opportunities and mistakes. It's also about a girl and also about David Letterman and a family of ducks.

Before publishing this, I told me wife. She was the first person I ever told. She didn't really say anything, but I can tell that she was disappointed at me.


This might be a long one.

Ok. Here goes.

It was 1994, the summer before my senior year of high school, and my drama group was traveling to Muncie, Indiana to take part in the annual National Thespian Convention.

It's a very serious affair in which only the most SERIOUS of high school thesbians travel far far away to watch some of the greatest high school plays done over the past year. They also go and take important and lengthy classes on how to be a better actor, taught by some of the greatest teachers and actors in the world.

Most importantly, and the reason why most people go to this darn thing, is that it's an opportunity to audition in front of the most important colleges in America. It's a chance to get scholarships, a chance to earn full rides to big name colleges like Yale and Harvard and places like that. See, THAT is the reason why most people go. And my drama teacher was forcing everyone to audition for the big colleges. You HAD TO if you wanted to go. But it's not like you have to be forced to audition. I mean, pretty much everyone was there to addition for colleges in the first place. That was the ONLY reason why any SANE person would go to this thing!

Of course, I'm not a sane person.

I did NOT go to this thing to audition for colleges. Screw that!

I went for a vacation!

Yeah. The only reasons why I went to the National Thespian Convention was because it was happening in Indiana and I have never been there before. The college seemed like it was going to be a nice place. I had heard that David Letterman graduated from there and I wanted to visit the place that he would consider to going to. I also heard that they were some really nice bookstores and comic book stores and pizza places near the college.

And I was right. There was a role playing game store and in the basement they had some nice old pinball machines. And the pizza? Fell in love. In fact, I successfully only went to ONE DAMN CLASS. Latex makeup. Made a bullet wound. Don't remember a thing I learned.

I went there for a vacation. I went to meet people. I went to people watch. I certainly didn't go to take some dumb classes from super serious thesbians and I certainly didn't go to audition for colleges.

But like I said, the drama teacher was forcing everyone to, so I HAD to audition. BUT I didn't want to do it and I didn't particularly care what college would actually be crazy enough to allow me to go there.

In retrospect, this may have been a mistake.

I just always figured that I would go to whatever college was near the house that I lived in at the time. I didn't wanna leave my family so I didn't care about auditions.

But I had to audition. So I did. 

My drama teacher tried to force me to audition with Shakespeare, a stupid monologue from A Midsummer Night's Dream that I didn't care for, but I didn't want to do it.

And at the last second I did a switcharoo and did something else.

And I'm glad I didn't because everybody was bringing their boringly serious guns. All drama. A whole bunch of Shakespeare. A ton of monologues from stupid movies that I never cared about. A LOT of Breakfast Club (even though this was the mid nineties). YAWN!

Because I didn't care, I audition with a hyper active monologue that I did in speech and debate called "Go to church camp, learn to kiss." It was overly hyper active, the opposite of the dead drama everyone else did. I was running around the stage. I was screaming. I was pretending to make out with myself. I almost fell of a table. I was insame. I was very hyper active and stupid, but I was feeling pretty much like myself. I didn't feel the need to be serious for any big 10 schools since I didn't care.

I was just myself.

I got the worst tongue lashing in the world from my teacher but I did end up getting a few calls back from a few colleges in tiny places I never heard of. I didn't care about it. In retrospect, I should have. I guess I was taking some sort of lame stand. I should have cared.

But I did get to talk with one major college recruiter from one pretty major college.

Pepperdine university.

The recruiter said that I was crazy and unpolished but that there might be something special about me.

So he went and offered me a full ride scholarship.

Specifically, the way he said it was very un-caring, like "Uhh, weeeeeell, I might as well give you a full ride scholarship" like he didn't give a shit, you know? Like he didnt believe that I'd last but he'd give me a chance to try. But still, I was actually offered a full ride scholarship to a major college.

Pepperdine fucking university.

So here's the thing...

I told the recruitment man that I would need some time to think it over and I would get back to him in a few days after talking to my parents.

I did not talk to my parents.

I didn't tell my drama teacher about it.

I didn't tell my friends who had gone to the trip with me about it.

I never went back to talk to the recruitment guy. I actually blew off Pepperdine university.

And I had successfully manage to not tell anyone of any importance to me in my life that I got a full ride scholarship to Pepperdine university. This is my big secret.

Why the fuck did I do that?

I suppose I should feel bad about it, but here's the thing: I remember not knowing anything about that damn university at the time. I still don't. I knew that a lot of the other kids who went to the convention wanted to get into that college. But where was it? What's so special about it? I didn't even know where it was!

So I blew it off. Fuck a free ride to a major college, I apparently thought.

I didn't care.

I SHOULD have cared. But I didn't.

That trip to Muncie, tho, wasn't the bad memory for me despite the fact that I blew off a major university. It was a really fun time. I saw some great plays. I successfully avoided going to any classes. I remember eating a lotta pizza and making new friends and going to Barnes and Noble a lot. There were some wonderful stores and places there. I could see why David Letterman picked it.

I actually thought of going there for a while. In fact, I probably would have gone they're had it not been for the humidity. Seriously, the summer humidity in Muncie, Indiana is absolutely horrible. Once you exit the airplane and step foot in this state of Indiana, the summer humidity punches you right in the balls. It's horrible. But I had a lot of fun.

I met a girl there, too.


Fuckin' Debby.

She was my Muncie love and ended up over the next decade becoming one of the major x's of my life.

We met and fell madly in love in Indiana, despite the fact that we only lived about 22 minutes away from each other in Phoenix. I considered that a sign way back when I still believed in such things.

She was my five foot tall manic pixie dream girl. She was wild and funny ancd spontaneous and free, all the things I wasn't. It was love at first sight and, before things went bad and we hated each other's gutsn ours was a pretty good relationship. We ended up dating and then broke up and then dated and then broke up and then dated and got serious. We lived with each other and were engaged for a while. Then things went to shit and nowadays she refuses to talk to me.

But she's good. Nowadays she's living in Brooklyn and doing one woman plays and singing and traveling to far off places and doing all of those spontaneous things that I could never do for her. Things ended bad between us. But back then we were still young and we immediately after we met we fell for each other. We really fell in love. And that is what I got out that trip to Muncie, not a scholarship to some college.

I don't regret the relationship and I don't regret breaking up with her. I use to regret a lot of things in life. In fact, I have a blog call "Esteban Galindo's Stupid Blog" where for a while I was writing a post for each of the stupid things that I did in my life that I regret. I don't do that anymore because I try not to regret things in my life.

The way I see it every stupid and horrible thing that I did in my life has led me to the wonderful life that I have now with the wife that loves me and 3 wonderful children. If I had done anything differently in my life in the past then I probably wouldn't have this wonderful life. I would have something different but I wouldn't have Maxwell or Emerald or Isabela. It would be different.

So if anything, I thank the mistakes I've made and the stupid things I did and the crimes I did and the hearts I broke and the women who destroyed me. I look back at them with happiness because they let me, like a giant living Choose Your Own Adventure book, to the wonderful life that I have now.

There are one or two major x's my life that I have maintained a friendship with but this one hates me, hates the ground I walk on, and blames me for ruining our relationship. I'm thankful, and this might seem a little mean spirited but only because it IS really mean, I am thankful that she had not aged well. I have some ex girlfriends that look absolutely gorgeous but man, my Muncie went from being a 5 foot tall manic pixie dream girl with big boobs into this hideous Brooklyn troll and that makes me feel pretty good about myself. See, men age differently than women so I'm turning into this strikingly handsome mexican Jack from "30 Rock" type of guy and she's just turning into this monster and that's pretty awesome for me.

But back in Muncie it was different. We spent almost all of our time together after we met. We spent each day avoiding classes and checking out little stores nearby and learning about each other. Most of the time we spent together was by a small river, more like a stream, a tiny stream by our dorm rooms and there was a tiny wooden bridge there and a small family of ducks and we held hands and talked and listened to The Cure and fell in love.

I'd rather have a fleeting love and a family of ducks than a scholarship to Pepperdine.

And speaking of ducks, you should really check out the massive amount of tags on this blog. Have you seen them? There's a massive column running along the left side of this blog. It's crazy. One of these days you should do yourself a favor and read all of them.

Some of them are whatever came to my mind at the time. Some of them are deeply offensive. Some of them are just stupid tags meant to entice readers. Some of them are deeply personal. Some of them are sad. Some of them are mean.

But of all the people I know there is only one other person who would understand the one tag I will use for this post. But now you read this and now YOU are one of the few who understands.


Monday, November 18, 2013

The Most Racist City In Oklahoma ...

I have a story to tell.

But first i'd like to say that I am a conversation whore.

That is because I try my hardest to be appealing at my place of business.

See, I am a very Latino looking gentleman, which puts me in a difficult situation because I know nothing about the race most people see me as. I don't speak Spanish. I hate Mexican food. I see myself as white. I actually sometimes forget that my skin is brown. I forget my race. Isn't that amazing?

But that doesn't change the fact that people see me as a strange looking Latino male and after over thirteen years within retail I have learned that in the work environment it is a common occurrence for your typical customer to avoid my help like the plague to go find a white or black male or a female of ANY race to help them instead of me. I regularly ask people if they need help, get brushed away or flat out ignored, only too see them track down a nice looking, pale skinned, cute little Lisa Corbin while actually saying "I could find ANYBODY to help me out there!!!"

And I don't particularly see that as being THAT racist. Hell, if there was a ME-looking guy between me and some white woman at ANY STORE then i'd probably actively avoid me, too. I'd do the same thing to myself. So is it racist? Maybe. But at least I understand.

So I try to be appealing, especially working at a store in Oklahoma that's near a major college where every young man looks like J. Crew clones. I dress overly nice. I slap a big fake smile on my face. I act overly enthused. I study my product.

And, most importantly to my eventual story, I converse in a friendly and enthusiastic way with whatever crazy white person bullshit you want to talk about.

I am a conversation whore.

I smile and nod while talking about things I despise just so I can seem friendly and inviting. You bet Bill O'Reilly is a genius! Oh yeah, I agree, the Tea Party is wonderful! Sure, of course Obama is evil! You know what, maybe you're right! Maybe the Democrats WERE the masterminds behind the Pearl Harbor attacks!

Agree agree agree!

Just yesterday I had a ten minute conversation with an old Murder She Wrote fat woman who vehemently believed with all her heart that liberals are having babies JUST so that they can have abortions. And I agreed. Because if this woman was brave enough to be friendly with the scary looking Mexican than the least I can do is hear her out.

But occasionally I actually have a good conversation, a normal one with what I consider a normal person.

A few months ago I was having a conversation with a late 40s woman who was born in Arizona, like me, abd bounced around the nation from state to state before settling down in Oklahoma where she had lived for over a decade.

I felt like I had found a kindred spirit and began telling her that I had been having trouble fitting in here. She said how hard it had been for her, too, but that eventually she cane to love the state and the small town life.

But she warned me that there were still a few pockets of racism in Oklahoma.

This is exactly what she said:

"You'll find a lot of racism in the smaller towns, unfortunately, but as long as you stay away from them then it shouldn't be a problem for you. I mean, heck, as long is you're not living in Shawnee then I'm pretty sure you'll be okay!"


There are so many small towns, redneck villages, really, that litter this state. Oklahoma has so many small towns dotting the map that it looks like a teenager's nose or a close up picture of Edward James Olmos. Millions of cities. Billions of small towns.

She didn't know where I lived. I didn't tell her.

She could have chosen any number of places to be an example of racism.

She chose Shawnee, Oklahoma.

And guess where I live?


So ...

Is Shawnee the most racist city in Oklahoma?

We'll see.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Two Types Of Oklahoma Drivers ...

There are only two types of drivers here in Oklahoma.

The following story will demonstrate the differences ...

Imagine you are driving down a one lane highway. It isn't busy. The highway is fairly deserted except for one car behind you and one car in front of you. The posted speed limit is 65mph.

TYPE 1: The car in front of you. It is driven by an elderly person. The car will most likely have either an OU sticker, a sticker designating their love for hunting, or both. The car is driving anywhere between 5-15 miles BELOW the speed limit. There is no real reason for this other than THEY'RE OLD. If the speed limit were 50 they would go 40. If the speed limit were 35 they would go 20. If the speed limit were 20 then you might have to get out and push.

WARNING: Do NOT ride their ass! That will cause them to get angry and drive even slower! Trust me!

TYPE 2: The car behind you. It is some kind of sports car or perhaps a truck. It will most likely have either an OU sticker, a sticker designating their love for hunting, a Monster Energy Drink logo (inexplicably), or all three. This vehicle will be driving 10-25 miles ABOVE the speed limit. This vehicle blames YOU and ONLY YOU for the slowness of the traffic and will ride your ass, flip you off, or perhaps both. Do NOT do ANYTHING to upset this driver. He/She WILL get upset.

There is no middle ground in Oklahoma. YOu are either type 1 or type 2.


Also, if you see a car driving slow and think you should pass them THINK TWICE! The car might take your passing as a threat to their manhood and speed up in anger.


Fuck this state.

Steve's Church-less Movie Of The Week ...

Today we have a reeeeeeally massive stinkbomb of a movie for you. 

See if you can actually sit thru the whole thing.

Enjoy ...

"Glitter is a 2001 American romantic musical drama film starring R&B singer Mariah Carey. Produced by 20th Century Fox and Columbia Pictures and directed by Vondie Curtis Hall, the film centers on the life and times of a struggling singer from the early club music scene in the 1980s.

Glitter was panned by critics and many labeled it as one of the worst films of all time.In the United States, it was released in 1,196 theaters and was the eleventh highest-grossing film over its opening weekend, taking in just $2,414,596. It was originally scheduled to open over Labor Day weekend, but the film was pushed back three weeks when Carey was admitted to a hospital for what she stated was extreme exhaustion. The film eventually grossed just $5 million worldwide. The movie currently holds a 7% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes based on 86 reviews.

In an interview in 2010, Carey stated that she believed that the film's flop at the box office was largely due to the soundtrack's release date being September 11, 2001 – the same day as the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and The Pentagon. The film also suffered a probable loss of promotional opportunities in the week and a half leading to the film's release due to pre-emption of most American entertainment media shows due to sustaining coverage of the aftermath of the attacks. The film is listed in Golden Raspberry Award founder John Wilson's book The Official Razzie Movie Guide as one of the The 100 Most Enjoyably Bad Movies Ever Made."

Friday, November 15, 2013

Down With The Sickness ...

What a day I've had.

I woke up at 5:15 am to the sounds of my two year old son Maxwell violently dry heaving. I grabbed tissue and he spit up into that. It was dark brown and had that hideous vomit stench. It hurt him so bad. He looked scared. Poor guy. He didn't know what was going on.

Then, when he was all done vomiting, I picked him up and held him. He was burning up, the poor guy.

This was my day. My wife's new job has her leaving the home at around 4:30 am and so I was all alone taking care of a sick little baby.

I gave him some medicine and managed to rock him back to sleep. The only problem was that it was The Rock VS John Cena getting him to take the damn medicine. He hates it. He thinks its so disgusting that he just spits it like crazy, erupting sticky medicine all over me.

It feels strange saying "Maxwell is sick" because he is almost NEVER sick! That's probably because he's a breast fed baby. That means his immunity is off the charts. He has NEVER realky been sick before. I was almost scared but thankfully my mamma bird instinct was too strong. I want to protect him. I HAD TO protect him.

Eventually both girls woke up. Maxwell was still asleep so I instituted a Wall of Silence to keep my little Sickswell Maxwell asleep in the blue chair, his chair of choice, in the living room. No sounds or noise.  Nothing. Wall of Silence.

He woke back up at 7:15 with a fever still, I think it went down a bit, and a really bad random nosebleed. Great, right? Now it's vomit AND blood!

I wiped off the blood, stopped the bleeding and all that, and put on cartoons for him. He seemed out of it, tho, and by about 7:40 am he just said fuckit, got in my arms, and knocked right out to sleep again. Thankfully his fever was going down a bit by then but he was still absolutely miserable.

Woke up at 8 am hardcore vomiting yet again. I tried to give him more medicine but he was just erupting it again, spitting out a bunch of it straight into my face. Great. So I was covered in vomit and blood and sticky ass medicines. Gross, right?

By about 8:30 Maxwell started feeling a little bit better. He was smiling and walking around and playing. Still, I was worried. He is NEVER like this! So, last ditch effort, I decided to defrost a bad of breast milk and make him a bottle. Poor baby.

And wouldn't you know it ... once he drinks the bottle?


An hour after the bottle he was running around the house yelling and jumping and screaming, saying BETTER! I wanted to cry, I was so happy.

I was also jealous. I wanted to make him feel better. Me!

Even when she's not here my wife makes everything better.

Now it's around 2:30 in the afternoon. No more vomiting but his fever is coming back a bit. I have to give him medicine but I know that about 60% of it will end up on my face. Not only that but i'm starting to not feel good. My stomach is breakdancing and I'm feeling dizzy as hell.

Gawd I hate today.

Today should be drone striked.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Oklahoma: Where It's Still The 1950s ...

I want to talk about a law.

I know that law is usually not my subject of choice but this is somewhat shocking and I just learned of its existence and I would really like to talk about it.

And i'd also like to talk about politics. And cussing. And religion. And old people. And tattoos. And maybe a few other things, too. But mainly I want to talk about that law that I mentioned before.

Here goes.

I was reading the paper yesterday and I discovered a tiny little blurb about a new law here in Oklahoma and it shocked me. And it takes a whole hell of a lot to shock the Reverend.

Basically, a new law just passed in this state says that law enforcement officers will soon have the option to seize people's license plates if they're uninsured drivers and then forcefully assign temporary insurance to them. This law apparently went into effect on November 1st but the police will not implement it until January.

I have a number of emotions regarding this.

First, and forgive me if I sound like somr soulless upperclass Republican here, but what the hell is wrong with our government? I mean, that sounds like something they'd implement in Korea or Germany but not here in America.

And please ... don't go trying to assume that you know my political ideology based on that last statement.

I've sided with Democrats and I've sided with Republicans. I was a registered libertarian for a while as well. But they're all blind to the reality of modern existence and modern problems. They're both pawns being played by the corporations and wealthy bastards that REALLY own this country. Democracy and the polarity of our two party system are nothing more than blinders on a horse or perhaps a cone you put on a dog so it won't hurt itself. It's a shield, a front.

Politics are all smoke and mirrors meant to distract us. The stupid red vs blue political fights that I see all across this country I see as what they really are: little clueless babies crying over shit that they don't really understand while the grown ups light huge cigars with thousand dollar bills on fire.

I hate lies and the joke that is our democracy is the biggest lie there is right now.

But I digress.

Secondly, this isn't the first crazy sounding Oklahoma law that i've heard of. Those of you who are regular readers of this blog may remember when I visited the Shawnee tag office and discovered Oklahoma law title 21, chapter 36 which is an actual law still in the books that makes it illegal to cuss in public, in front of a woman, or in front of a kid age ten and under. The punishment is a fine of $100 and possible jail time.


There's also a law on the books that makes it illegal to take the lord's name in vain. Saying "Goddammit" can actually land you a whopping one dollar fine. One dollar.



Why do I live here again?

But i'm not entirely SHOCKED by these laws. I'm not shocked because I am already well aware of how cluelessly anti-modern and thoroughly ass-backwards the state of Oklahoma is. I'm weeeeell aware that Oklahoma and the rest of the midwest has their heads up their ass. Well aware.

See, all the upper class Christian white folk what live round these here parts like pretending that it's still the fifties. They don't want to be modern or accepting. They believe in Gawd and Jeeshush and guns and the Bible and huntin' and they force all of their personal beliefs on literally everyone else around them.

I believe in religion.

I do. I feel that it has a healing power and can be quite helpful. I like religion.

But where almost all religions fail is when they believe that what they believe is the ONLY WAY to believe and that anyone who believes different is wrong and somehow evil. That is why religion fails. That is why it's ruining us.

Hey. Believe whatever the hell you want to believe in. Just don't throw your crazy down my throat and expect to swallow it.

I work at a bookstore in Oklahoma. My job primarily focuses on getting old people whatever Fox News just told them to get. I smile and act happily and give them what they want.

Then they talk to me.

Seriously, if I had a quarter for every time that some decrepid old white person started droning on and on about how horrible the Democrats are and how evil Obama is and how great Rush Limbaugh is, well, i'd be a billionaire right now.

Here's another example of just how hillariously ass-backwards this stTe is.

Tattoos have long ago permeated our modern society. I imagine long ago, maybe in the 1940s or the 1950, tattoos were seen by the people at large as being this sign of evil living and loose morals and whatnot, but that thinking expired a long long long long LOOOONG time ago, right?


But get this ... tattoos were illegal in Oklahoma until 2007!


Two thousand freaking seven!!!

THAT, my friends, is exactly how ass-backwards Oklahoma is! In 2006 there were repressed Okies still thinking that tattoos were evil. That is laughably idiotic. That is almost unbelievable. How could a state be THAT FAR behind the rest of the nation?

So, while the rest of the nation is coming to terms with the NON-lethality of marijuana and the non-evil nature of gays and lesbians, I expect this woefully backwards state of mine to continue reading gun magazines and continue chewing and continue frothing at the mouth at the sight of a liberal or a mixed race couple and if, and this is a very strong IF, this state ever accepts pot and gay marriage then it will no doubt be such a loooooong time in the future that my great great grandchildren will no doubt be the ones on THEIR blogs going:



Fuck this state.

Monday, November 11, 2013

A Life Without Television ...

I have gone a whole year without tv.

How did I do this, you ask?

Simple, really. I have a very old television set. The buttons have been close to falling off for about five years now. No HD for me. And that also means no television stations. None.

I miss Saturday Night Live.

Sure I bought a box, one of those satellite boxes that allows old, ancient tv's to get stations. And it worked. In California, which is where I bought the thing. But, and believe me I have wasted hours upon hours trying, the box appears to be absolutely worthless in Oklahoma.

I miss tv.

I miss having PBS cartoons available to help me raise a young one. I mean, shit, my two year old son has NEVER watched Sesame Street! Never!

I miss Saturday Night Live. I missed the last half of last season and so far ALL of the present one. I never said good bye to Stefan.

I miss all the shit,  all the stupid pointless shit. Maury and his paternity shows. Stupid local news where they pretend to be friends. Mexican telenovelas that I can't understand but are so cheesy that the language battier doesn't matter.

I never got to see Under The Dome.


The rest of my family family doesn't seem to miss tv as much as I do. My wife never cared for tv. The last show she liked was damn Gilmore Girls. My youngest daughter is all about her Nintendo DS and my oldest can read a full length novel in a day and a half.

But I'm different. See, my dad was never around growing up and the kids in my all white neighborhood in Arizona werent allowed to play with the Mexican kid, so I was an incredibly lonely boy. I was pretty much raised by my mother and cable tv. Most days it seemed that comic books and tv were my only friend.

I miss tv and I want it back.

Maybe it would be different if we had wifi.

The way we survive without tv is with my own massive collection of bad movies, my wife's nice Disney collection, dvd rentals mainly from the library, and random bootlegs. Today, for instance, my son and I watched Looney Tunes from the Norman library and are now watching Pacific Rim from a free rental coupon I got from Family Video. Maybe later we'll watch Godzilla VS Mothra or Wall-E. We'll see.

But I reeeeeeeaaaaaaaally miss tv!

Thankfully my wife and I are finally getting our feet stabilized underneath us, money wise. We are slowly but surely paying all the bills that need to be paying and getting caught up with our lives. We're looking good.

What i'm trrrrrying to say is that our unfortunate tv exile may soon be over.

Unfortunately, the phrase "soon" refers to three to twelve months from now. It's going to be a while until we are stable enough to afford something frivolous like a tv. My parents said that they would get us one for Christmas but they have enough problem on their hands  that I don't expect them to see that thru.

I just wanted to explain why I miss tv.

That is all.

Friday, November 8, 2013

The Church of Ed Wood Announces The World's NEWEST Worst Director of All Time ...

Ed Wood is NOT the worst, not anymore.

For those of you who aren't aware of my connection to Mr. Wood's legacy, let me try and explain...

Edward D. Wood Jr. was a writer, producer, actor and director from the 1950's and 60's who is wrongfully considered to be the worst director of all time and his most well known film, "Plan 9 from Outer Space", is widely considered to be the worst movie ever made.

I have been a fan of Ed all my life and over fifteen years ago I, Reverend Steve Galindo, created The Church of Ed Wood to showcase my love for the man and his films. I wanted to clear his name, give the man some credit. I didn't mean to somehow successfully connected myself into the life and legacy of Mr. Wood himself. Hell, I'm mentioned by name in Ed Wood's Wikipedia page, for pete's sake! That's pretty amazing.

I can be considered a lot of things: an asshole, a self-loathing Mexican, a storyteller, a father, etc.

But one thing I would really like to be known as is a bad movie historian with Ed Wood being a specialty of mine. I can also be considered the leader of my own religion, a bad movie Pope, of you will. I KNOW bad movies!

Therefore, I am here to explain why Ed Wood can in NO WAY be considered the worst director of all time.

See, shortly after his death - he died homeless and penniless, forced to crash on an old friends couch where he died watching football, a script ironically called "The Final Curtain" in his hands as he died - two men know as The Medved Brothers began cashing in on the popularity of home video players by writing a series of badly fact-checked books about old b-movies. Their book "The Golden Turkey Awards" tried to be the Oscars of schlock and in it they declared Ed Wood the worst director and "Plan 9" the worst movie ever made.

Bug things have changed and that announcement was a loooooooooong time ago.

That was before the birth of the so-called "summer blockbuster" where heartless studio execs made million dollar pieces of crap for the sole purpose of selling movie tickets and merchandise to the brainless idiots who think that soulless baby food on film can be a good movie.

(See the American "Godzilla" and the "Alvin and the Chipmunks" films for further proof.)

That was before movie studios lost their creativity and decided to remake EVERYTHING, even near perfect classic films and recently released, pretty good movies that really don't NEED a freaking remake in the first place.

(See Vince Vaughn's "Psycho" and the new "Total Recall" for further proof.)

That was before the direct to dvd market exploded and a billion bad movies that are so crappy that they would NEVER be shown in a theater are now being rented and streamed all over the place.

(See "Mega Shark VS Giant Octopus" and Disney's "Santa Buddies" for further proof.)

That was before brainless, heartless directors and producers decided to make brainless big budget movies with emphasis on special effects and explosions instead of good acting and coherent scripts.

(See any of those horrible freaking "Transformers" movie for further proof.)

This was before the term "mockbuster" was coined to describe a horrible, cheap, crappy direct to dvd film parody of a major motion picture specifically created for the sole purpose of tricking the renter or purchaser into thinking it is the original film.

(See the unwatchable "Transmorphers" series for further proof.)

And, most importantly, Ed Wood was considered the worst director of all time way before it somehow became COOL to make a bad movie, where being an awful movie somehow makes you a "cult" movie which makes you cool, despite being a pretty shitty movie.

(See a million films, including "Troll 2", "The Room" and "Birdemic" for further proof.)

The website IMDB has a constantly updated list of the Top 100 greatest films of all time. It uses articles and lists and reviews and box office receipts  to mathematically deduce which films can fully be considered the absolute best.

And, using that same formula, they also maintain a list of the Bottom 100 worst films of all time.

If Ed Wood was indeed the worst, then wouldn't his films have a major presence on IMDB's Bottom 100?

I believe that Wood's films were at one point in time on the list a loooong time ago. But now his films are completely absent from the Bottom 100.

And is that a surprise? In a world with mockbusters and Transmorphers and Disney's "Santa Buddies", can Ed Wood be considered the worst director anymore? With so many bad movies flooding the market nowadays, can we honestly say that "Plan 9 ftom Outer Space" is really the worst film EVER MADE?

(Seriously, I dare anyone over three years of age to try and watch Disney's "Santa Buddies" without contemplating suicude.)

Ed Wood made movies not because he wanted to be famous. He remained in obscurity until his death. Only after death did he become famous.

He didn't do it to make money. He struggled with money all his life. It's surprising that he was able to even make one film, let alone the amount of films he successfully completed.

He didn't do it because a studio told him to do it, either. Nowadays it's rare to see a film made by a director. Films are now made by committee, created around a boardroom by creatively impotent studio executives for the sole purpose of making money. Ed Wood was the complete antithesis of such a thing.

Ed Wood made movies because he loved movies and he loved telling stories.

And as a practicing Woodite I ask you this:

  Should the reason why a film was made be just as important as the film itself?

Ed Wood cannot be considered the worst director of all time, not anymore.

But who is?

Who is the worst?


Michael Bay.

Michael f-ing Bay.

Team America World Police: "Pearl Harbor Sucked"

Michael Bay is the absolute opposite of Ed Wood and all he stood for. His films are highly stylized and grossly under written. His is style over substance. His films, created to appease the lowest common denominator, have somehow gross over 3 billion dollars worldwide, films like "Pearl Harbor", "Bad Boys" and the god awful Transformers series, films that are both wildly successful and somehow wildly criticized for suckiness. How can a man be such a success while simultaneously be so wildly hated?

His dramas, especially the extra sappy action/dramas "Armageddon" and "Pearl Harbor", doesn't make you feel emotional as much as it forces you loudly from one emotion to the other: CRY NOW!  OK, NOW CHEER! WAIT, MORE TEARS! That seems to be a habit: other films talk to you but Michael Bay's films scream.

You should also know that Michael Bay co-owns the production company responsible for all those pointless horror movie remakes like "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" and "Nightmare on Elm Street."

That's his new modus operandi. He takes other people's art and repurposes it for his own cheap moneymaking schemes. A fine example of that is when he took a series of overrated 80s toys and turned it into a nonsensical series of techno music, headache-inducing computer generated images, and explosions and called it Transformers 1 thru 8 or however many he's made so far. Now he's doing the same thing with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Is there anything he won't ruin? Michael Bay's "CARE BEARS" starring Justin Timberlake and a big pile of boobs.

Here is why he is the worst and also why Ed wood gets a bad rap:

Ed Wood makes movies because he loves movies and he loves the audience.

Michael Bay doesn't make movies because he loves the audience. He thinks the audience is rock stupid. He couldn't care less what the audience thinks.

Michael Bay also does not make movies because he loves movies. No. He does it for money. He does it for fame.

And, above all, Michael Bay makes movies because Michael Bay loves Michael Bay.

Ed Wood is the absolute opposite of Michael Bay.

That is why The Church of Ed Wood hereby officially announces that director-slash-blockbuster film whore Michael Bay is in fact the NEW worst director of all time!

Thank you for your time.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Various Wishes ...

-I wish I had money. I mean, don't get me wrong. We aren't really broke anymore, not since my wife got her sweet state job. I just don't ever seem to be allowed any cash. My daughters have cash. Hell, my damn two year old son has more money than I do right now. Isn't that crazy? I usually have to scrounge and sneak just to get enough money for a soda and even then I get in trouble.

-I wish I could see Adam Warrock in concert. He's touring Texas this month. Most of his shows are free, and THAT I can afford. But it would be about three and a half hours for me to get to his closest show. The gas would knock me on my ass.

-I wish I had a new tv. Our old one is coming apart. And it isn't in HD. And it's so old that it gets absolutely no television channels. So I am tv free. And it drives me nuts. I'm basically renting stuff from the library and watching the same old dvds at home a bajillion times. It's starting to drive me nuts. I live on Wall-E, Avengers and old Godzilla movies.

-I wish I had energy. Being a stay at home dad is harder than I thought. I'm up at 5:50 am every morning to get the kids ready for school. Sometimes I',m earlier because of the sometimes crazed whims of my little Maxwell. When they're finally off, which is always a massive ordeal, I spend most of the day cleaning, doing laundry, picking up messes, chasing the little one, trying to potty train him, and various other things. It's tiring. And although I only work 3 days a week now EVERY DAMN TIME I WORK they want to overwork me and stretch me thin. It's exhausting being me. I really is.

This is post #2121, by the way.

Yay me.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Steve's Church-less Movie of the Week: Special Creep-o Edition ...

Two things:

1) Michael Jackson IS a creep-o, but

2) Martin Bashir totally fucking RAILROADED him.

Enjoy ...

"Living with Michael Jackson is a television film, in which British journalist Martin Bashir interviewed Michael Jackson over a span of eight months, from May 2002 to January 2003. It was shown first in the United Kingdom on ITV (as a Tonight special) on 3 February 2003 and in the United States three days later on ABC, introduced by Barbara Walters.

Jackson felt betrayed by Bashir and complained that the film gives a distorted picture of his behaviour and conduct as a father. He claimed that Bashir, in the final version of his interview, used only that material which supported the negative view Bashir portrayed as holding towards Jackson. In response, Jackson and his personal cameraman released a rebuttal interview, which showed Bashir complimenting Jackson on his abilities as a father and grace under pressure, thus contradicting the journalist's previous statements.

Following the broadcast, several media personalities accused Bashir of yellow journalism, claiming that he deliberately doctored the recordings in order to paint Jackson in an unflattering light, as well as emphasising the allegations of child molestation made against Jackson. The New York Times called Bashir's journalism style'"callous self-interest masked as sympathy'."

The Healing Power Of Fake Medication ...

As soon as two years ago I had to take two to three breathing treatments A DAY for my chronic asthma.

But recently I went 16 consecutive days without any asthma medication whatsoever.

How did I do it, you ask.

One word:


A few months ago, after reading a paper in which I learned that even if you KNOW a pill is fake your brain can still fool you into thinking it helps, I tasked my oldest daughter to transform my Men's Multivitamins into Super Strength Asthma Pills. She did a great job and I take one every day.

A few months later, I'm suddenly going without a rescue inhaler and without my nebulizer machine for the first time in over a decade.

I did nothing else different. That can be the ONLY answer!


Remember, kids: even if a pill is fake, your brain will STILL tell your body that it's real.