TBN "Truely Bizarre Network"

Back to blogging after a brief hiatus. Not long ago, Jeff and I randomly paid a visit to the TBN (Trinity Broadcasting Network) Studios in Costa Mesa, CA. At first we just drove by and couldn't help but notice the elaborate, stately building nestled between the South Coast Plaza and the 405 freeway. "Hey, its open to the public, babe. Let's go!" insisted my incredibly hot husband. Who could say no to such a beautiful man? And besides, I was a little curious myself. What kind of things did they sell in the "Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh Gift Shop"? We had to find out.




We were greeted just inside the gate by Jesus, who also starred as King Lionidas in the movie "300".



"Tonight! We dine in Hell!"



We walked around the gardens.





Anyone else feel like all the nativity characters should be holding wads of cash and winking?



Then we went into the building, which put the white marble columns and sparkling fountains in the garden to shame.


Please note Willy Wonka's great glass elevator

Apparently if you make it past Warrior Jesus at the gate, you then have to face the giant marble angel assassin in the foyer. Yikes! How many orphans had to starve so they could install that little beauty? Honestly, I don't know if I was more frightened by the menacing statues or the Sandi Patty album they were playing when we walked in.




Jesus' living room?






Jesus' gold plated piano?





Finally, a Jesus who doesn't want to kill me!




Unfortunately, Paul and Jan Crouch were nowhere to be seen. We were genuinely dissappointed. I was hoping for some fashion/makeup advice.

Jim Henson's inspiration for Miss Piggy?

Oh well. Maybe next time.

Poor Jesus. I'm pretty sure this wasn't what he had in mind when he came to Earth and died. It was highly entertaining though. If you're ever in Orange County, you should stop and check it out. I leave you now with one of my favorite youtube parodies. Enjoy!

Strawberry Blonde + Strawberry Festival = LOVE

Jeff and I took a trip last weekend to celebrate our anniversary. We arrived in Agoura Hills Friday night around nine. The hotel was warn and welcoming, once we got past the gatekeepers.

Not so scary during the day, but decently foreboding at night. "Nevermore!"

We slept in 'til noon Saturday and spent the rest of the day drinking ridiculously over garnished cocktails on the beach in Malibu.

I was really looking forward to Sunday because we were planning to go to the Strawberry Festival in Oxnard. I hadn't been since I was eight, and the only memory I had of it was getting to build my own strawberry shortcake. Picture a bowl full of strawberries and cake topped off with 3-4 inches of whipped cream. This is my version of Heaven.

Jeff was a little skeptical about the festival. I think he only agreed to go because I got so excited at the prospect, and he couldn't bear to disappoint me. We decided to get there early and beat the crowds. As we were pulling into the parking lot, Jeff's ears perked up.

"Babe, I hear a marching band. Their drum line sounds pretty good."

As we walked through the gate, Jeff's eyes got huge. There in front of us was the marching band, and surrounding it on all sides were booths selling every kind of food imaginable. This was Jeff's version of Heaven.
We listened to Oxnard High School's band perform while munching on strawberry popcorn. Then we headed for the vendor booths. The vendor area consisted of rows and rows of tents full of homemade wind chimes, tie-dye clothing, amateur art, chainsaw sculptures, and handmade specialty soaps. I bought a delightfully strange print from a Haitian "Modernistic Artist/ Chef Creole/ Vocalist/ Percussionist Extraordinaire" named Willie Louie Jean Paul. I'm NOT making this up. I don't even like Chihuahuas. I just thought this was awesome!

Jeff thinks I'm insane.

Next we decided to grab lunch. Jeff had a boring old tri-tip sandwich. I opted for a strawberry glazed chicken skewer. MMMMMMM. Lunch in hand, we made our way to the main stage to see who was playing.

The band was called "Mini Driver"(like the actress only smaller?). It consisted of four grown men in rock star costumes singing and playing to Black Eyed Peas and Lady Gaga tracks. Once again, NOT KIDDING. In the presence of such absurdity, there was only one thing I could do... dance...with this guy:

After my dance floor workout, I decided it was time for round three of festival food. Roasted corn on the cob and strawberry wine for me. Curly fries and strawberry beer for Jeff. Yum!

By this time, the crowd was getting thicker, the sun was getting hotter, and the BBQ smoke was stinging my eyes. We both were ready to go, so we bought two flats of the world's greatest strawberries, and I got in line to make myself a bowl of strawberry shortcake that would put my childhood memories to shame.

"So, how did you like the Strawberry festival, Babe?" I asked Jeff as we searched the crowded parking lot for our car.

"Oh my gosh! The food! The crazy people! The amazing strawberries!"

We set one of the baskets of berries between us in the car and munched on them the whole way back to Bakersfield, the perfect ending to a perfect weekend.