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.

The wrong side of 48

“Buttercup took the dirt nap.”

I'll be turning 48 in March, which means I’m now officially on the countdown to 50. I really don’t care about the number, because I believe it’s about how old you feel. Unfortunately I have days where I feel like I’m 90 and others where I feel 17 and that I’m old enough to know better, but the reality is that I know jack shit. The only problem is that I don’t know that I know jack shit. I think I know more than I really know. Ya know what I mean? Probably not. Moving on…


I’m not gonna blow sunshine up your ass (or anywhere else) and say that my life has been awesome, because it hasn’t. On the plus side, I’ve never been on Cops and I’ve never lived in a trailer park or in a state in which the Confederate Flag flies from every liquor store, bait shack and gun shop. So I’ve got that going for me.
My daughter (A.K.A. Drama Queen) has turned out much better than she should have and I’m constantly amazed by that. She has a mom who has been mostly non-existent in her life and is stuck with a douche bag for a dad. When Her Majesty was five, she had a rough six month period. Her “Papa” (ex's dad) died of colon cancer, her mom moved out and her hamster died.
The hamster was named Buttercup, not because it’s the type of name a five-year-old girl chooses. It’s not that easy with my daughter. “Why did you name her Buttercup?” I asked on the day we bought her. “Because,” she said with hands on her hips and an eye roll. “Buttercup is my favorite Power Puff Girl because she has a bad attitude.” That’s my angel. I vividly remember the day Buttercup left this world.
After I broke the news that her furry friend was taking what’s called, “The dirt nap”, D.Q. asked if we could bury Buttercup next to Papa. My  ex's dad was cremated and his ashes are buried in a family burial plot. There were some flowers in the plot and I said we could bury Buttercup with my ex's dad. “Buttercup is family,” my angel told me. An hour later I walked down the hall and I heard my daughter crying and talking.
Walking into her room, I noted that she wasn’t there, so I listened closer. It was coming from my bedroom and I crept down the hall as quietly as I could and peeked in the door. What I witnessed made me retreat to my den and cry. My daughter was sitting at the sliding glass door and had it cracked open just enough to get the dog’s nose in the door. “Lucy?” Drama Queen cried to the pet she received as a birthday gift seven months before. “Papa left me, mommy left me and now Buttercup left me. Please don’t leave me Lucy.” I cried like a baby at that one.
I’ve been thinking about my daughter a lot lately and I’m proud of the way she’s turned out. In her younger days I dated a couple of women who weren’t the nicest to her and I stayed in those relationships longer than I should have. It was never abusive, but wasn’t cool. Like any parent, I make mistakes, but I tend to keep revisiting mine and breaking them down in intricate detail. That drives me up the wall.

There’s a rad chick in my life who listens to me whine and then helps me chill da fuck out. I keep telling her she can do way better than me, but apparently she’s under the delusion that I’m the shiz. I keep telling her she’s wrong, but she won’t listen. “What the hell does she see?” I ask myself. I’ve got no clue, but I’ll hang around as long as she lets me.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my writing and my life as a writer. When I was in high school I was on the school paper staff, but had an adviser who was less than nurturing. She thought my writing wasn’t any good and I barely got in the paper. To be honest, that criticism knocked myself confidence as a writer down to zero. It was almost 20 years later that I had the balls to pursue writing again and when I did, it was pretty good.

I honestly believe that I’ve gotten better with age. I’m way cooler than I was in my teens-mid 30′s and even though I’m having a momentary self-esteem crisis, I kn0w I feel better about myself than I probably ever did. I’m also going to go out and fire up a New York steak, some Pacifico and red velvet cupcakes courtesy of my Muse. See. More cool shit I don’t deserve.


P.S. I put Butercup in foil and Ziploc bag before shoving her into the bottom of the freezer. That would preserve the body so we could bury the damn hamster the next afternoon. My daughter wanted to go back a few days later to pay her respects and I eventually gave in. We got there and the spot I buried the rodent had been dug up and my daughter asked what happened. “When hamsters go to heaven,” I said. “This is what happens. Buttercup went to be with Papa.” For some reason she actually bought it. Apparently the cemetery has cats. And I’m probably going to hell for telling my daughter that.
P.S.S. The day after this happened, the kindergarten teacher wanted to talk with me after school. Apparently she didn’t appreciate that my daughter shared with the class that, “Buttercup took the dirt nap.” I don’t know why not…

Coffee addiction is a bitch

Every morning I long to hold you.. I need you, I want you, I have to have you... your warmth, your smell, your taste...ohhh coffee, I love you (o:

HISTORICAL GLASS MUSEUM HISTORY

HISTORICAL GLASS MUSEUM HISTORY, a photo by benjamin_valadez on Flickr.

The museum located in a restored 1905 Victorian house and is Redlands Historical Resource #107.
The Historical Glass Museum Foundation was founded in 1976, to preserve specimens of American
glass from artists and factories that were becoming extinct, as well as those currently
producing glass. Dixie Huckabee, her husband, Dee Huckabee, and many volunteers spent
numerous hours restoring the 1905 Victorian house museum to its original look, both inside
and out. Thanks to their efforts, the museum received the Heritage Award from the Redlands Area
Historical Society in 1995. This award is given each year to acknowledge well-maintained
structures in Redlands that are at least 75 years old.

In 2004, several HGMF members refurbished every room in the museum's interior, while two
members voluntarily repaired and painted the entire exterior of the museum.

On August 2, 2005 the Historical Glass Museum was dedicated as Redlands Historical
Resource #107.

The home that houses the museum was constructed by Jerome E. Seymour, a Redlands builder and
architect. Seymour purchased the lot in 1903 and built the home in 1905 for a total of
$1,000. Seymour started the Seymour Planing Mill in 1886 with his brother, Howard. Jerome
built the home for his family. His daughter, Emma Cryer, lived there after her parents'
deaths, and until her death in 1977. Jerome Seymour died in Redlands in 1917 during the
influenza epidemic.

According to historical data available, the home was constructed from wood from the
historic J.D.B. Stillman Winery, which was located where the University of Redlands is
today. Inside the home you will find beautiful dark woodwork. The rooms in the
museum all have high ceilings and tall, double-hung windows. A very ornate and
fretwork wood archway still stands between the front room and dining room.



Most of the museum's funding comes from affiliated glass clubs, fundraisers, member's dues, and the museum's wonderful two-room Antique and Gift Shop.

Dancing mailmen and other assorted nonsense

My daughter is 19. This is stuff I need to know.

I was watching the Raiders game on Sunday morning, when it went to commercial. It looked like I was in someone’s house and I noticed the front door was open. Suddenly, Without any warning. The mailman came leaping in the door and proceeded to dance like a fairy on PCP. I sat there with my mouth open as I watched this guy completely make an ass of himself.

The only thing I took from that commercial is that Dish Network thinks it’s OK for the mailman to waltz into your castle and act like a dick. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only stupid thing I saw this weekend. My TV was filled with funny moments that weren’t supposed to be funny.
Beginning Saturday with the Arkansas football game on CBS, I heard a lot of interesting comments made by the announcers. Brent Musburger (Saturday night) and Solomon Wilcots (Sunday morning) both said things which indicated they were coming out on air. What did they say? I’ll get to that in a moment. I know commercials exist to inform us of something or to get us to shell out our hard earned cash for their shiz. I totally get that, but I don’t think it’s too big a deal to get things grammatically correct.
A commercial for the NCAA had a guy saying, “Team is plural.” Uh….no it’s not. It’s singular. “Teams” is plural. Now, I know the point they were trying to make, but is, “A team is a family,” really too difficult for the actor to remember? If so, he may not be the right guy for the gig. Whoever wrote that line and approved it needs to be fired and sent back to third grade English. Seriously. “Team is plural?” I’m giving the commercial a D+.
Early in the first quarter of the Arkansas v Mississippi State game, a commercial appeared on my screen. It was the T-Mobile chick and she was with some elf dude. The elf called her, “Naughty” and the first thing that went through my mind was, “I bet you wish she was naughty. She’s probably the first tall chick you’ve seen in years. Whatcha gonna do? Whip up some of your special ‘nog for her?” I reminded myself that everything didn’t have to be about sex and the very next commercial easily put the T-Mobile hottie out of my mind.
The next commercial showed an old lady hocking Depends. Yeah. Adult diapers. I have no clue what she said at the end of the spot, because once I realized what it was for, I kept watching her body language and facial expressions to see if she was relieving herself while she filmed the commercial. I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn she wet herself. At this point, you probably think I’m a dick for making fun of incontinent adults. I’m not making fun of the problem, just the commercial. If I’m ever in adult diapers, you have my permission to mock me constantly.
Shortly after halftime, I was treated to a lesson in feminine hygiene. Apparently, Stayfree maxipads wik away moisture. I did not know that. I guess I’m gonna go ahead and ask the obvious question. “Where does it wik to?” Am I to understand that a woman’s period blood will somehow dissipate into the atmosphere if only she sticks a Stayfree maxi pad between her legs? My daughter is 14. This is stuff I need to know.
I guess CBS was calling this their “Chick commercial break” because the next ad was for some medicine a doctor can prescribe to make wrinkles go away. I knew I could believe what they were saying because of the caption at the bottom of the screen. “NOT ACTUAL USERS”, is what it said. Is their snake oil so crappy that they can’t even find four women who look decent after using it? Probably not. To tell the truth, the actresses all looked a little rough. Oh well.
Finally it was time for USC and Oregon. As I watched the opening, I wondered aloud (even though I was alone) why Brent Musburger wasn’t wearing a bib. “Dude is blowing USC big time,” I noted. Musburger couldn’t understand how anyone would think #4 Oregon could actually beat USC, (unranked in the BCS because Pete Carroll is a pussy who cheated, then ran to the NFL, but #18 in the AP poll). Brent needed the bib because at the rate he was going, the whole team would erupt shortly before halftime.
Musburger donned his cardinal and gold knee pads and slurped away as he told America how Matt Barklay was the next great NFL quarterback and how Lane Kiffin was an offensive genius. Of course his dad, Monty Kiffin is the greatest defensive mind in the game today. Watching it made me want to take a shower. I felt that dirty.
Somehow, color analyst Kirk Herbstreit was able to interrupt the orgy and uttered the first funny line. Of one of the Oregon players, Herbie said he, “Weighs 195 and has a low center of gravity.” I looked at the kid and laughed out loud. Yeah. He probably does weigh 195 and has a low center of gravity. That’s because he’s short and fat. Nice phrasing Kirk. Seriously. I’m gonna use that line sometime.
I tossed a couple pistachios in my mouth and almost choked on them because of what Musburger said next. He told everyone watching that the running back was, “swallowed” by the cornerback. I swear to God. That was my first clue that Brent may be coming out on air, but i was still willing to give the veteran broadcaster the benefit of the doubt. It was hard to cut him some slack, because he spent the rest of the first half saying things like, “The receiver was swallowed on the play.” Also, “Here’s Kenyon Marner to give him a blow.” A hummer? really? What exactly is the penalty for that? I would think 15 yards and automatic first down, but I’m not sure.
Sunday morning I turned on the Raiders and swore out loud as the Silver and Black took stupid penalty after stupid penalty. My favorite moment was when Michael Huff clotheslined Percy Harvin and evaded the flag. Nicely done, bro. Al would be proud.
Near the end of the first quarter I watched as some guy walked out of the grocery store with a paper bag, not a reusable one (I thought Honda was all about going green). Dude also had a gallon of milk, which he dropped once his van caught fire. He pressed his remote and suddenly the whole thing turned into a black light 70′s metal thing, complete with a black panther, rocker with long hair and a headband, plus Godzilla breathing fire on the DVD entertainment system. “The van beckons like no van before,” said the announcer in a very creepy voice.
As soon as I heard the phrase, “The van beckons” I immediately pictured a black panel van (owned by a rapist, of course) sitting in a dark alley. I don’t think, “This is the perfect vehicle to haul my kids around in.” Sorry Honda, but you might want to rethink that spot. After that I tweeted: “When did Honda become the official van of child molesters?”
As he half came to a close, I heard Solomon Wilcots say, “I love me some John Kuhn.” I bet you do, Solomon. And now everyone who watched the game knows it too. I’m not sure how often those two get to hook up, but I think it’s nice that CBS lets Wilcots call Kuhn’s games.
Finally, I close this out with something that’s funny because of what was said, but also the fact that the player had no clue that what he said was stupid. We were told this guy was cut by the Lions last offseason, but was recently re-signed by the team and he played today. When asked why he thought the Lions signed him, the genius had this to say.
“Well, if you have talent and you’re available, you’ll play. If you’re not available, you won’t.” Wow. I wonder when (if ever) he’ll realize that he said the only reason he’s on the Lions is because he was available to play. My guess is the 12th of Never. Anyone want to take that bet?

Phantom Turkey

Being goofy in the turkey trailor...

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