Sure, Catholic priests are having a hay day with the little boys nowadays, but remember like 130 years ago where cutting off boys balls before puberty to preserve their angelic singing voices was all the rage?

I don’t know, I am kinda on the fence with the Castrati.  Chopping testies for the sake of music.  I mean, I watched a documentary on them recently, it was pretty intriguing. There was the opera singer host, and you could tell his biggest letdown in life was that no one cut his balls off before puberty.  You could see his longing to be one of those unique operatic greats, or even just one of those poor unfortunate choir boys.

The show did some interesting, computer science/recording magic, where they took the voice of a young boy, the voice of a high range male, and blended them with the effects that would mimic the small vocal chamber and powerful lungs that occur when you chop the balls.

Then, as they all sat in the room together, listening to the computer generated Castrato, you could see tears welling in their eyes.  It was so cinematic and touching.

The young boy, you could see the longing in his eyes, praying that someone would just chop his balls.  A small price to him for the vocal greatness he so desires.  I don’t know if I would be that surprised if the kid actually did it to himself someday.  I mean…if someone really wants to chop off their balls, who are we to stop them?  At what age is a child old enough to decided the fate of his own testicles?  Would he need parental approval?

Ok, so I am not actually for the castration of young boys.  Sorry guys.  BUT… it could be a cool thing to do to an adult rapist, right?   (Maybe that could be how the Supreme Court jumps in frat boy Brett. I would love to see Ruth Bader Ginsberg do the honors.)

Watch the Documentary!


2018 Life Update

Well….trying to update this website/blog I started forever ago. I thought it would be nice to have a place with links to all of my many projects and creative endeavors. Also…maybe share my real thoughts that I usually think no one wants to hear. Who knows, maybe someone does want to know the random things that go on in my head. Warning- It can be a scary place, lol. DEPRESSION!!! But I am not depressed all the time, or I do a pretty good job of managing it. I have to do a lot of self care. Get good sleep, exercise, yoga, meditation, positive affirmations, good diet, writing, DRUMMING, ect. I do pretty good job taking care of myself and am very independent.



I currently have 3 bands I am active with; Dangerously Sleazy, ModPods, The Dale Crover Band. That last one there kinda blows my mind. I somehow lucked out/ worked hard enough to be playing drums in one of my favorite drummer’s bands.



ModPods recently went on tour opening for Melvins!! That…was…amazing! I never would of guessed I would get to meet, let alone tour with one of my favorite bands. Yes, we sound nothing like them, but it worked out well. It was very fun, and as far as my touring experiences have gone, very comfortable. I didn’t get a cold or illness, I slept in a bed every night, I ate healthy food, I only had 2 nights where I got less than 6 hours sleep. We got to drive through the Canadian Rockies which was a mind blowing, beautiful, peaceful, zen experience. I am glad I got to share it with 2 of my best friends in Los Angeles, Daniel and Myriad. Slowly working on my solo project. My perfectionism and self doubt are making that take a long time…


Also, Manny’s dog Elvis has come to live with us, so it is super nice to have a cute furry little senior pup to hang out with. It is my first time living with a dog, and I am learning a lot. Not used to something being so dependent on me for survival. He is adorable though and I am getting used to picking up dog poop, which until now was one main reason I was apprehensive about getting a dog.




I am also an aunt!! I have this adorable little nephew named Liam. He is about to turn 6, and lives with my sister and her husband in Virginia. Manny and I have gone to visit them, and it was a really fun trip. Brother-in-law works at the Pentagon, so we got to wander around that famous place late at night, as well as check out Washington DC. That trip was one week before Trump took office. They were already lining the streets with an over abundance of porta-potties. I swear, after seeing the pics of his “huge” inauguration, I think the ratio was 2 porta-potties for every 1 person who actually went to that shit show.

Romantic whip it’s at McDonalds. Ahh….young love.

I have no other way to start this.  I saw a teenage emo couple doing whip it’s together in McDonalds.  What a romantic date huh?  Of course they were somewhat discrete about it.  He had the spray can hidden half-assedly [shut up spell check, I’m making that a word] under a tee shirt as he inhaled.  Then, the really cute part, he held it for his little girlfriend and sprayed it in her mouth with a smile and a blank stare.  And then they giggled at each other, and held hands.

Yes. I was serious when I said this was in McDonalds.

Why am I REALLY in Los Angeles….Gay Bear vs. Detective.

What kind of a world do we live in when a single prank phone call is considered an act of terrorism, resulting in a 4 month investigation by detectives?

I am talking, of course, about my own life.  Seriously.  I am the person that was harassed by detectives, threatened with terrorist charges, and subpoenaed by the assistant district attorney because someone, not me, made a prank call from my cell phone.

It all has to do with Sioux City’s selfish and closed minded city council.  A couple of years ago, the state of Iowa legalized gay marriage.  This upset the conservative, rigidly Christian, city council.  They made slanderous remarks about homosexuals and wasted tax payer money to exclude sexual orientation from the cities list of groups protected against discrimination.  They made the public statement that even though you legally could be gay and get married in Sioux City, the city does not approve or welcome you.

So, one of those councilmen received an anonymous voicemail.  The message was a man saying something about being a bear and gay anal sex.

It may not have been an appropriate voicemail, but certainly not an act of terrorism, on the part of the prank caller or the innocent person whose phone was used.

Yet there I was, in an interrogation room with a detective trying to play the “good cop” mind game, pretending that he thought the whole thing was stupid, and asking me questions that shouldn’t matter to the law, such as “What are your views on gay marriage,” and “Do you know what a bear is?”

He played the voicemail back to me off a poor quality handheld tape recorder, and I tried my best not to laugh; how was I supposed to take this serious? [Seriously?] He demanded that I tell him who the voice belonged to, and I honestly didn’t recognize the dude’s voice. I told him I wasn’t sure who did it but I might have an idea.  He said I better find out and get him the man’s name.

So I left the station and went about life as normal.  That is until about two weeks later when he called me back, asking why I haven’t called him with the person’s name.  I told him I didn’t know who did it, and that is when he threatened me.

“This is a very serious, Mindee.  If you do not help us find the person who made this call, you will be charged with aiding and abetting, and terrorism,” he threatened.


I went to a lawyer.  I told him the whole situation and he just laughed, telling me that I have nothing to worry about. I did nothing wrong and they are just trying to get information out of me.  This was a big relief, and once again I went back to life as normal.

Then, about two months later, I get a call from the detective.  He needed to meet up with me to serve me subpoena papers.

[Wait…. what the FUCK]

Back to the lawyer I go, who is in comical disbelief at seeing me again, and that the subpoena is being heard by the assistant district attorney, someone who usually only hears the most heinous of criminal cases.

The day of the subpoena, I entered a small room with my lawyer, the detective, and the assistant district attorney [And that note taking lady].  For almost two hours they probe into my personal life, getting the names of all my friends, where I work, what bands I am in, and questioning my personal beliefs.  They accused me of lying, and saying it’s not possible that I don’t know who did this. [Hey, I got a lot of friends, most of them slowly going insane, thanks to you Sioux City .]

They ask me how I could tell the detective that I might know who did it, but now I have no idea, and I respond with “Well, I thought I knew which of my friends would find this funny, but it turns out everyone thinks this is hilarious.”

This upset the detective, who responded by screaming “Anal sex is NOT FUNNY Miss Jorgensen!”  [OH MAN! Torture! , do you KNOW how hard it is not to laugh in that situation. This was REALITY man…] My lawyer later assured me that I am allowed to think anal sex is funny if I want- it’s a basic freedom the law can’t take away. [HA!]

Of course, it didn’t end after the subpoena.  The detective went to a show and began questioning my friends and band mates.  I felt harassed and violated.  I decided I could no longer live in this ass backwards city, put in my two weeks at work, and promptly moved to Los Angeles. I assumed that the LAPD has real crime to worry about other than a single prank call that jokingly accuses a homophobic of being gay..Image


Here is a little profile piece I wrote about a local staple of the Los Angeles underground music scene.  Written for a school project last spring.

Nubs- The Unsung Hero

By Mindee Jorgensen

You will never see Nubs up on the stage.  He has stage fright and hates being in front of people.  Yet almost every night he is out and about, hiding backstage at a show somewhere in Los Angeles.  He might be carrying a guitar amp, or putting together a drum set.  Sometimes he is setting up PA or testing sound levels.  It’s just what he does, and he has been doing it a long time.

“I’m a geek and [music] is what I got into.  I have a really bad phobia of being watched, and I don’t want to go on stage, but I have to do something.  I may as well put my brain to use,” Nubs said. “I got into helping bands so that they could actually start on time and play as long as their supposed to. It’s practical.”

Nubs, whose real name is Neil Gutmacher, has been helping bands set up since 1986.  He started by helping his friend’s band Fire Hose move gear, and ended up being their stage hand for 7 years.  Since then he has helped numerous bands and ran sound at many shows.

Yet there is more to Nubs than meets the eye.  This stocky man who is always seen in a band tee shirt, shorts, and a baseball cap has two college degrees, a BS in Physics and a BS in Math.  By day he does quality assurance, testing midi keyboards for bugs.  He has only gone on the road with a band once because he is always busy working, unable to leave town.  And it wasn’t music that brought him to California, it was his degrees.

“My first job was for Hughes Aircraft.  I built transformers for radar systems and classified projects” he said.

Some of the projects he worked on were the F14, F18, and Star Wars.  One classified project he worked on would go up to an enemy spy satellite and shoot it with an electrical bolt, frying the circuitry and knocking out the satellite.

The MX missile was another major project he was a part of.  The MX missile had 8 nuclear war heads on it, and could destroy 8 separate towns.  He worked on the transformer for the guidance system.

Working on classified projects and nuclear war heads didn’t seem unusual to Nubs.  “I didn’t think anything special of what I was working on.  It was just a job, my first after college,” he says.

He did find a way to bring his work the punk scene though.  He used to save spare parts that were going to get thrown away and hide them at shows and after parties to see if anyone would find them.

Nubs remains modest despite all he does in life and for the music scene, saying “I’m nobody special.  I’m not a band.  They deserve recognition, not me.  They are trying to get somewhere, I’m not.”

Man…I hate shopping!

Man, I hate shopping.  I am so different than most women, who die for the chance to purchase bag fulls of uncomfortable high heels and fancy perfume.  Those women who can go into a store with no set item in mind, and come out with 20 different things.  I am not that kinda lady.

So this blog stems from the fact that I have ran 3 personal items into the ground, and need to get off my lazy butt, go to a store, and buy them.  First, a hair dryer.  Yes, I need one.  BUT…only because my bangs naturally lay in this ass backwards M shape. I have to use the power of hot air to keep from looking like I have a unicorn inspired hairstyle.  I have had my current one for about 4 years.  A while back I could still use it if I bent the cord just right. But sadly, it decided to shoot a spark at me the other day and now our time has come to part.

Next, I need a new damn purse or bag.  The strap broke after I had had it 5 years.  LAME-O.  It was such a good, durable purse.  I tied the strap through a hole in the fabric, but I have to retie it ALL THE TIME, and know this is something I really need to get on.  I was thinking “How do other women deal with this situation?’  Then I realized, they probably already bought 3 new purses before the one they usually use is anywhere near the end of its usefulness.  Blah.   This shopping need has been on my mind 2 months, and I have touched 0 bags so far.  My only attempted at shopping is glancing through windows to see if the store has a plain black, durable, canvas purse that is not super big and bulky.  Maybe I should just take up internet shopping? Then I could easily find exactly what I want, and not have to waste hours wandering through stores, looking for that perfect bag, which is never around.  Nowadays everything looks fake leather, or has beads and fancy things all attached.  You know those 20 pointless buttons that end up falling off within a week?   BLAH! BLAH I SAY!

That last thing I need to get. The most dreaded shopping of all….SHOE SHOPPING!  I HATE IT.  Firstly, because I have these rare shaped feet, that are more like the feet of a talk and skinny man.  Size 12 1/2 if I am trying for women shoes. AND if they have that size, they seem to assume that your feet are REALLY BIG, as in WIDE.  Mine, are not.  In fact, they are triple narrow. DAMN.  So its the usual men’s converse or running shoes.  Ask me if I have ever owned high heels.  HA! I laugh in your face.  They would be so wide I would slip to one side and fall on my face or twist my ankle or something.  UGH! Now I am just dreading shopping again.  Damn you blogging!