10 Things I am Thankful For…

…in no particular order.

1. My 2 daughters. They keep me in check and give me a reason to keep on going when life starts kicking my ass. They are my kryptonite.
2. My job. I am very fortunate to have one.
3. My close friends that are there for me.
4. My family for being non-judgemental of me over the years.
5. Apple. My entire career has been inspired and shaped by this incredible company for the past 17 years.
6. My Mom & Dad for being able to maintain a good balance of being my parent and good friend.
7. My health thus far. So far good so good. Well according to my doc. *turns head and coughs*
8. Feeling free of any anger, hate or guilt that I might have felt over the years.
9. Starbucks. Because it’s SO good. That’s why.
10. Technology. Without it, you wouldn’t be reading this.

What are you thankful for?

This post is my early Christmas gift to you. or Chanukah or Kwanza. Whatever your thing is.

It’s simply the best Effing holiday of the year. Seriously. I first became aware of Festivus at the same time many of you did. It was December 18, 1997 and I was watching Seinfeld. Frank Costanza was explaining the origins of the holiday to Kramer, who of course became obsessed with it and asked to resurrect the day.

Frank Costanza: “Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reached for the last one they had, but so did another man. As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way.”

Kramer: “What happened to the doll?”

Frank Costanza: “It was destroyed. But out of that a new holiday was born: a Festivus for the rest of us!”

Kramer: “That must have been some kind of doll.”

Frank Costanza: “She was.



Festivus has gone from a sitcom gag to a legit holiday. People all over have Festivus celebrations, complete with the traditional aluminum pole, a Festivus meal, the Airing of Grievances and Feats of Strength.



If you’re going to do Festivus right, you have to start with the pole. There’s nothing fancy about it. It’s a simple aluminum pole. You don’t decorate it. You just put it in the middle of the room like a tree.

Things are a little tight financially for me and I couldn’t afford a Festivus pole, so I used the vacuum cleaner wand. It’s silver and some sort of metal, so I figured it would do. I was going to use a hockey stick, but mine are all composite. And yellow. The wand seemed to work better.

Once you have your family and friends gathered, you share the Festivus meal. I don’t believe there is a traditional meal that should be served, but I’m not 100% certain, so don’t quote me on that.

Tonight we will gather around the Festivus table where Drama Queen and I will be enjoying buffalo chicken sandwiches, French fries and fresh green beans. If I have time I may even whip up a Festivus apple pie. We’ll have to see how much time I have after I spend the day doing jack shit.

Frank Costanza: “And at the Festivus dinner, you gather your family around, and tell them all the ways they have disappointed you over the past year!”





This year it will be just Drama Queen and I celebrating Festivus and believe me when I say that we are both already well aware of what our grievances are against each other. That means we won’t spend a lot of time airing out against each other and can instead focus on other people.

I’ve complied a list of some grievances I plan on airing and I’ve decided to share that list with you.



To the trolls that stalk my blog endlessly, I say, “Blow me”. No one gives a crap about your shitty websites and they never will. If you can’t spam in proper English or even in actual letters why would I want to pay attention to you.

To all the Gleeks of the world I say, “What the fuck?” I’ve never actually seen the show, but I know it sucks. Allow me to be proactive and answer the question I know you’re going to ask. “How do I know I won’t like it if I’ve never seen it?” I’ve never been junk punched, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like that. There are some things a guy just knows.

To the douchebag that owns the company I worked for “There is a special place in hell for assclowns like you.” I don’t think I need to elaborate on that one. It pretty much speaks for itself.

To the woman who jacked my parking spot at the mall on Drama Queen’s birthday, I say, “When I got out of my car to ask what the hell you were doing, you laughed at me and snottily told me to have a nice day, but that’s OK. I was the guy who took a picture of your license plate with my camera phone and told mall security you were driving 30 MPH in the parking lot and almost hit me.” Also, “Those pants probably would have looked good on you about 45 pounds ago, but not now.”

To the editors of Modern Mom who dumped me as a Featured Blogger without having the courtesy of telling me, I say, “You said women found me offensive, yet you have Denise Richards as a Featured Blogger. Denise Fucking Richards. Need I say more?” Your loss. All kinds of moms dig me and every last one of them is more modern than you.

To Time Warner Cable, I say, “Man up and get the NFL Network. The NHL Network too. While you’re at it, if you actually dump Fox on January 1, I’m gonna have to go all Gordon Ramsey on your ass.”

To the 48-Year-Old Hottie, I say, “I don’t know why you got so mad at me for asking if you wanted to pray.” You’re the one who said on our second (and last) date that you were religious and that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone unless you prayed with him first. I just assumed that since we were making out pretty heavy on your couch, that you wanted to pray with me at that moment. I know I wanted to have sex with you at that moment. “My bad.”



If you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure that the living room is set up properly for the Feats of Strength. I know it’s not fair for a 19-year-old girl to try to pin a man who is, well, older than 19, but it’s the hand she’s been dealt and she’ll have to take her whuppin’ with a smile.

If you don’t believe in Festivus, that’s cool. They say that every year there is Festivus Miracle. If anything good happens to you on December 23, you will have your proof.

If you have a grievance you’d like to air—either against me or someone else, please feel free to leave it in the comment section.

Have a Happy Festivus and a Bitchin’ New Year.

My Rules of Engagement

“No thanks. I’m gonna pass on playing cowboy with James Bond’s alien.”


Dateline:Thursday night. My bed.
There I was, desperately trying to fall asleep. No mater how hard I tried, I couldn’t shut down my brain and drift off to the peaceful slumber I desired. Thought after random thought passed through my mind and at one point I had an epiphany. Or a revelation. One of the two. I immediately reached over to the night stand and fumbled to get my glasses and phone. Once I cleaned the fresh thumbprint off the right lens, I texted the Muse.
I’ve come to the conclusion that you and the Rules of Engagement chick look a lot alike and that a three way with you and her would be kinda rad. Just thought you would want to know.
Please keep in mind that both she and I know what I said was a joke. When I awoke this morning I found this waiting for me.
OK. But if Daniel Craig becomes available, you have to be willing to do the same thing.
I thought about that for a moment before I responded.
Daniel Craig? No thanks. I’ll sit that one out. If you had said Ryan Reynolds, I would consider it, but I’m gonna pass on playing cowboy with James Bond’s alien.
After reading her Daniel Craig response, I knew this was a blog post in the making, so I grabbed my headphones and iPod before sitting down to a bowl of boysenberry almond granola with vanilla soy milk, a container of Greek yogurt (honey), fresh blackberries and green tea. Cranking my “Dope Tunes” playlist (seriously), I blasted some loud music while letting this post brew in my noggin. About half-way through my granola, I knew how I wanted to start it.
I could totally see me and the Muse as the married couple from Rules of Engagement. I could pull off the Patrick Warburton character with ease and if David Spade needed a week off, I could probably fill in for him as well. I know this will be hard for most of you to believe, but I couldn’t torture my assistant the way Spade does. Don’t get me wrong. I could do some of that stuff, but not all of it.
The truth is, that I would love to have a relationship like Patrick Warburton and Megyn Price have on TV. They screw with each other constantly and each always tries to “win”, but they love each other and are very happy together. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.
Last week’s episode started when Audrey (the Muse) and Jeff (me) meet their lesbian surrogate mother for breakfast at their favorite diner. Jeff made a wiener joke, which started the show off on a high note. The next exchange was classic married couple. The waitress comes to take their order and I can totally picture this happening with the Muse.
Jeff: I’ll have scrambled eggs, pancakes
Audrey: No
Jeff: And hash browns and bacon.
Audrey: No. No. No. No. There’s no one growing inside of you. He’ll have egg whites, dry toast, fruit and turkey bacon.
Jeff: Turkey. A stupid, lean flightless bird.
Audrey: You remember what the doctor said about your cholesterol.
Jeff: He was impressed.
Audrey: Yeah. That you’re alive.
The episode goes on and on until near the end when Audrey finds barbecue sauce on Jeff’s collar along with a wet nap in his wallet. Jeff decided to lie and say he wasn’t eating greasy food with the lesbian surrogate, but rather he was having an affair. Needless to say, mama wasn’t buyin’ it.
My favorite line from the episode? It came from Timmy Patel, the personal assistant from India by way of South Africa. “No. I go with you because you’ve made it my job to stand next to you as you spew crude double entendres at women who are just this side of street walkers.” Either that or when he asked David Spade, “Did anyone ask who invited Hall from Hall & Oates?” The waitress asking, “Where’s the little sex offender you’re always with” is pretty good too.
One last thing on Megyn Price. Assuming everyone was cool with the situation (of course), I would totally go for that. She’s like the “mom-next-door-MILF” The sad reality is that it will never happen, so I guess I’ll just continue to spend my Thursday nights watching CBS and living vicariously through their fun, dysfunctional loving relationship.

My Town Redlands

All these pictures were taken with my iPhone...

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U.S. Post Office

U.S. Post Office, a photo by benjamin_valadez on Flickr.

201 Brookside Avenue at Eureka. Placed in the National Register of Historic Places in 1985

Amy Grant is a whore

FYI…It’s called “Adultery” and it’s one of the Ten Commandments. Check it out sometime.

I was in the shower Saturday night when a thought ran through my head. I have no idea why this thought ran through my head or where it came from, but it was there.
I stood there a moment, body puff (there has to be a more manly name for that) and body wash in hand, and I realized that this had the makings of a rad blog post. So I set them down, half-ass dried myself off, ran across the hall to my room, grabbed my little idea notebook and scribbled “Amy Grant is a whore. Jim Bakker/Swaggert”.
I then returned to the shower and began thinking about what else I could write. I slid the curtain open, reached for my iPhone, and text a friend, who I use as a muse.
I text this muse and said, “I’m in the shower and had an idea for a blog post. Besides Amy Grant, Jim Bakker and Jimmy Swaggart, can you think of any other Bible thumpers who got caught cheating on their spouses?’
The response? “Sadly no. You naked and wet is all I can think about.” I wasn’t sure if she was serious or if she was mocking me. I choose to believe she was serious, though the mocking seems a legitimate possibility.
My next thought was that as soon I type the phrase, “Bible thumpers” I will have the whole right wing up my ass. Then I realized that Bible thumpers don’t read my blog and if they do, they’re not very good ones. Plus, I don’t really care what they think.
Why did I call Amy Grant a whore? Because she is. Who is Amy Grant? In case you don’t know, she was the Christian Pop Princess who got caught banging Vince Gill. I couldn’t remember all the sordid details, so I Google’d “Amy Grant whore”. Here’s the Readers Digest version.
Amy was married to Gary Chapman when she “allegedly” started nailing Vince. She divorced Gary and married Vince. Several years later the new happy couple ended up on the cover of Good Housekeeping.
I used “allegedly” in the last paragraph because some Jesus freaks will try and make you believe that Amy and Gary were already divorced when she started seeing Vince. You and I know that’s a crock of shit. They don’t want their precious diva to look like a harlot. But she is. Big time.
Before you go thinking that I have a problem with God, relax. I don’t. I like the G-man and I’m pretty sure he kind of digs me. My problem is with Christians who strut their morality for all to admire, then get busted for being, well, human.
If you’re going to get up in front of the world and say, “If you follow God, you should model your life after me,” you ought not be boning people who aren’t your spouse.
I heard that Amy’s husband had a drug problem and that’s what led to the divorce. I understand that, but Amy had an infidelity problem. They were both smoking something/someone they shouldn’t have been and the reality is that neither one is a good thing.
If you think Amy Grant is the only high-profile “Goddie” who enjoyed sex outside of marriage, you’re mistaken. Jim Bakker nailed Jessica Hahn and paid her to keep her mouth shut about the sexual relationship and about the fact that he ripped off the followers of his PTL Club (Praise The Lord) for more than $3.4 million.
Bakker was sentenced to 45 years in federal prison for his criminal activities and fellow televangelist Jerry Falwell called Bakker a liar, an embezzler, a sexual deviant, and “the greatest scab and cancer on the face of Christianity in 2,000 years of church history”.
Sucks to be you Jim Bakker. I hope no one rapes you in prison the way you raped people out of their money, thinking it was going to do the work of the Lord and instead was paying for hotels so you could bang a skanky church sexretary secretary.
Anyone remember the famous 1988 scandal involving televangelist Jimmy Swaggart? The short version is that he found out a major New Orleans holy-roller minister, named Marvin Gorman, was having several affairs and he ratted him out, thus getting Gorman “defrocked” (un-pastor-ized).
Gorman was pissed for being ratted out and had his son and son-in-law stake out the Travel Inn, where they took photos of Swaggart entering and exiting a room with a known prostitute. Gorman blackmailed Swaggart, who basically told him, “Bite me.”
Gorman blew the whistle on Swaggart and a short time later we all heard the famous “I have sinned, ” speech. “I have sinned against you, my Lord, and I would ask that your precious blood would wash and cleanse every stain until it is in the seas of God’s forgiveness.”
Swaggart didn’t learn his lesson and in 1991 he was stopped by the California Highway Patrol in the middle of nowhere (Indio, California) for driving down the wrong side of the road. The officer asked the woman in the car with Swaggart what she was doing with him. Her reply is priceless.
“He asked me for sex. I mean, that’s why he stopped me. That’s what I do. I’m a prostitute.” Rather than man up and admit he likes to bang the occasional ho, he told the members of his congregation, “The Lord told me it’s flat none of your business.” Uh, if they give you their money it’s absolutely their business, asswipe!
These are but three of the reasons I have a problem with a lot of organized religion. Too many people figure out they can make a buck off God, then behave in ways the majority of us would never consider acting.
By no means are all churches like this and in fact, I would say that the vast majority of churches in the United States are doing good things. But when you use people like this as the window to the church, don’t be surprised when we get turned off to your shtick.
My final comments are directed to those that will back Amy Grant and call me a douchebag for saying what I said. Yeah, her affair is controversial. Do I have proof that she had an affair? No. Do you have proof that she didn’t? Your answer to me had better be no! The bottom line is, only a small handful of people know what really went down with that, but perception is reality. FYI…It’s called “Adultery” and it’s one of the Ten Commandments. Check it out sometime.

 

Amy was married to Gary when this video was made and I get that it’s acting, but she’s really flirty and seems to be having a pretty damn good time with the guys in here. I’m just saying…                  

Closer To The Edge

Can you imagine a time when the truth ran free?
The birth of a song, The death of a dream
Closer to the edge

Thirty Seconds to Mars



I was listening to Pandora last week and this song came on. I’ve heard it a bunch of times, but for some reason the beat caught my brain and I paid more attention to it. Later in the day I was on YouTube and decided to check out the Closer To The Edge  video. About 58 seconds in, I came to the conclusion that I liked this video despite the fact that one could argue the possibility that the “Thousand to one and a million to two” move is a sign of which team lead singer Jared Leto plays for. The white leather belted coat doesn’t help your case either. I’m not saying I believe it, but I can see how someone might.
I don’t remember the moment I tried to forget
I lost myself, is it better not said
Now I’m closer to the edge
The straight up truth is that I’d like to forget the last seven or eight years of my life. It was going well, and then it all went to shit. I’m not throwing blame around. I’m a grown-ass man and with a lot of hindsight in my past, and it’s my fault. Not that it matters who’s at fault. The point was that I’d like to forget the last seven or eight years of my life. Let’s just leave it at that.
Also, that edge I’m getting closer to better damn well be the top of the shit hole I’m trying to pull myself out of. If it’s not, I’m gonna be really  pissed and go off on some gnarly rant. Guaranteed. Stay tuned.
It was a thousand to one and a million to two
Time to go down in flames and I’m taking you
Closer to the edge
I find it ironic… I truly believe in my heart, the good shit is right around the corner, yet if you said that to me a week ago I would tell you that you’re smoking crack. I’ve learned a lot about myself as a writer, especially over the last year. I’m not sure how I got on this writing high, but hands off. This shit is mine. My point with this is that I’m going for it. I feel great about the way my life is heading and if I go down, I’m going down in flames. As in, pushing myself closer to the edge of a happy, successful rest of my life. You’re invited to come along for the ride, just be sure to wear your seat belt. If we do near the “going down in flames’ part, I’ll be sure to eject you all from your seats. You’re welcome.
Also, how can something be both 1000-1 AND a million-2? If it is possible, what’s the vig on that gotta be? Sounds like shady gambling to me. You’re better off staying away from that action.
No I’m not saying I’m sorry
One day maybe we’ll meet again
As funny as that may sound, the last year or so, I’ve really isolated myself from almost everyone and I hate it. I really do. I’m not entirely sure why I’ve done it and still do, but I think it has something to with the health limitations I’m presented with right now.
I’m not my normal self and I don’t want people I know to see me like this and I feel like if they do, they’ll feel like they don’t know how to react to me. I know that sounds totally ignorant considering they’re all great, loyal friends who I’ve known anywhere from 16-25 years. The reality is they’ve all seen me worse than this, but it was only for a night, or until I yakked it out of my system. This is different. My message to those friends is to get in touch with me and call me the same shitty names you always have.
If you actually watch the video (which I encourage you to do for its one two punch of normal looking guys from their The Kill video? OK. They weren’t all normal. One guy was getting fellated by a giant teddy bear, but it was only for like two seconds or something, so he’s probably still relatively normal.
I’m not at all sure why, but Jared has this Adam Ant thing going on Dude’s wearing war paint like Adam did in Goody Two Shoes and he has what I believe is a white weightlifting glove on one hand. Hate to break it to you J-Lo, but Michael Jackson barely pulled off that look and his glove had sequins.
I told Drama Queen that I wanted her to watch the video and she asked why. “Just shut up and do it,” I said. So she did. And she liked it. As I knew she would. My daughter wanted to know why I wanted her to watch it. “Two reasons,” I said. “First is that I thought it might inspire you to accomplish great works or something.”* She stared at me like I was wasting her valuable time and asked what the other thing was. Shaking my head, I sighed and explained that she needs to, “Get over this Rhianna, Lady GaGa and KIIS FM bulllshit” she’s been listening to.
I reminded my daughter that KROQ roqs the FM dial, plus she already likes Muse, Evanesence, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Veruca Salt, Garbage, Puddle of Mudd, No Doubt, Paramore, All-American Rejects, Brian Setzer Orchestra, Good Charlotte, Linkin Park (she LOVES Linkin Park) and now, Thirty Seconds to Mars. That seems like a good foundation for alternative. I’m trying to get her interested in Silversun Pickups, but no luck yet. I could tell you I’ll keep you posted about that, but the reality is that I wont. No point blowing sunshine, ya know?
I’ll end it like this. Watch the video and listen to the song, then honestly ask yourself this question. “If I were at this concert, would I be bouncing up and down during this song?” At least a little? Let me know your answer…

*“Or something” is the PG version of, “And shit.”
P.S. If you picture Jared Leto as a blond Faith-era George Michael with a pink mohawk, the video makes a lot more sense.

Entertainment and catchy music along with a positive message for the youth of today), you’ll see this is a new look for the band. What I want to know is what happened to the normal looking guys from their The Kill video? OK. They weren’t all normal. One guy was getting fellated by a giant teddy bear, but it was only for like two seconds or something, so he’s probably still relatively normal.
I’m not at all sure why, but Jared has this Adam Ant thing going on Dude’s wearing war paint like Adam did in Goody Two Shoes and he has what I believe is a white weightlifting glove on one hand. Hate to break it to you J-Lo, but Michael Jackson barely pulled off that look and his glove had sequins.

I’ll end it like this. Watch the video and listen to the song, then honestly ask yourself this question. “If I were at this concert, would I be bouncing up and down during this song?” At least a little? Let me know your answer…


*“Or something” is the PG version of, “And shit.”
P.S. If you picture Jared Leto as a blond Faith-era George Michael with a pink mohawk, the video makes a lot more sense.