Have You Seen This Controversy? It’s Ginormous!

Pervert in Bathroom

I might regret this.

The guy above walked into a bathroom dressed like a woman where he had a video camera in his bag.  He was caught and he had hours of footage of women going to the bathroom.

This guy is what one of my best friends would call “a ruiner”.  It’s because of people like him that we have controversy over who can pee where.  If everyone could be trusted, we could believe that bathroom stalls are truly private, but they are only as private as a pervert’s self-control.  Sometimes there are gaps in the doors where you can easily see into a stall.  You could easily look over or under if you choose.  (Um, hopefully not.)

If you make public bathroom stalls too private, they become a haven for drugs and even prostitution  My husband works for a public library system and it’s quite the problem.  One of the buildings used to have some public outdoor bathrooms and those had to be shut down due to illegal activity.  Still, it’s sometimes a problem in the indoor bathrooms.  Never, EVER send a child into a library bathroom alone.  Or any other public bathroom.

My husband finds drug needles in the bathrooms where he does maintenance.  The library’s solution is to provide sharps containers.  You know, because drug users are known for being really responsible and concerned about their health.  No, they will break open the containers if they can to use some of the needles inside or they leave one hidden in a stall so they can come back and use it later.  It’s hard to come up with solutions for difficult problems such as this.

So I’m watching the Target controversy and the back and forth between the two camps.  What stands out to me is I don’t see any men acting scared that a woman is going to pretend to be a man and infiltrate their bathroom.  They’re not afraid a woman is going to sneak in and harm their children.  They’re not afraid a woman is going to take secret video of them pooping.  At least not that I’ve seen.

This boils down to the sad fact that men are way more likely to sexually offend than a woman.  Why?  It’s something we don’t understand, yet it continues to be a huge problem in our society.  It breaks my heart.  I would love to trust everyone.  I would love to be able to teach my children that they can trust everyone, but my son didn’t even make it out of Kindergarten before a classmate simulated rape against him on the bus.  I was devastated – more so for the little boy than my son because I knew something had to have happened to him.  My son and I talk rather openly about body parts, bodily functions, etc., so he came home and told me immediately what had happened.

People say that reactions to Target’s bathroom policy is based on fear.  Yes, many women have reason to be afraid.  Many of us have been abused, stalked, sexually harassed, raped, etc.  To feel like a woman is more than wanting to dress in women’s clothing.  Depending on our experiences, many of us are afraid or have at times felt completely powerless against a man.

I’ve seen these arguments:

“It’s not safe for a transgender woman to use a men’s restroom.”  Yes, I want them to be safe.  I also want to be safe.

“What are you going to do?  Check their genitals?”  No, I don’t want to see anyone’s genitals.  And I don’t want them to see mine.  Or my children’s.

“You’ve already been using the bathroom with transgender women and don’t know it.”  Doesn’t bother me.

“A sign isn’t going to stop a crime from happening.”  That’s true, but a dumb policy makes it easier to offend.  The pervert above will be released, I’m sure, and back to using public bathrooms.

“Stop using your children as an excuse to be a hateful human being.”  Stop making inflammatory arguments and trying to intimidate others by telling them their concerns aren’t valid or even make them a hater.  The H word is thrown around a lot.

“If you don’t like it, use one of the family bathrooms.”  OK, but that’s going to be a long line and a lot of toddlers peeing their pants considering the number of outraged Target shoppers.  It won’t bother me personally because I stopped shopping there over 5 years ago.

“Go to the bathroom before you go there.”  (Have you ever shopped with a toddler?)

“You should be worried about your sons going into the men’s bathroom!”  Yes, I am.  I take them into the women’s bathroom until they are quite old and when they seem too big to go in there, I loiter right by the men’s door and at times continue talking to them or first call inside to find out if anyone is in there already.

“I wish there were better things to worry about than where people can pee such as ___, ___, and ____.”  I’m sorry, but concerns about sexual assault or someone spying on your naked rear end with a video camera is a pretty big deal to me.  I don’t appreciate guilt trips.

What people don’t understand is that policies (and even laws in Washington State) prevent a woman from identifying danger.  Back to the guy above.  I could never buy for a second that he’s a woman, yet he dressed up like one and waltzed into the bathroom to violate women.  We are now expected to assume that someone like this has just barely begun to transition.  You can’t prove feelings.

As women, we no longer have the right to yell at the pervert, “GET THE H OUT OF OUR BATHROOM, PERVERT!”  No, now we’re doing something wrong if we do that.  And it’s not that we would want to hurt anyone who’s transgender, but I know the feeling well of being in a public bathroom alone and suddenly hearing a man’s voice.  I’m filled with instant terror until I realize it’s just the janitor wanting to come in to clean.

The way I feel is:  If you are transgender and a very convincing looking woman, we won’t notice.  Go ahead and pee.  Maybe run it by some close, honest friends to see if you can pass the test.  If not, I think the respectful thing to do is to use the unisex bathroom.  There are many ways to dress like a woman.  Some women don’t get dolled up ever.  Some wear jeans and sports jerseys.  So do men.  I bet a lot of transgender people could get away with using either bathroom.  Most people aren’t going to say, “Excuse me?  Are you a man or a woman?”

Because moms/women are now afraid of pervert opportunists taking advantage of the “Come on in if you feel like you’re a woman but still have male genitals and look very much like a man” policy, that could make an awfully long line for the family restroom.  And of course it wouldn’t be cost or space effective for businesses to build many family bathrooms.

This guy.  I can’t even imagine him looking like an actual woman.  Look.  I even tried putting a wig (It’s a messy wig!) and make-up on him using my expert Microsoft Paint skills.  I thought about making him blonde, but I thought the black matched his 5 o’clock shadow better.

Pervert in Bathroom Make Up

This policy is such delicious, low-hanging fruit for a pervert.  For instance, when I went to Gasworks Park in Seattle as a teenager, I was playing hide-and-seek with my sister and some friends.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a man sitting there watching us and I felt like I shouldn’t look.  My sister’s friend said, “Come on.  Let’s go.”  We had been hiding in this covered area that’s filled with large, colorful pipes.

As soon as we left the area, she informed us that he had pulled up on his bike, pulled down the front of his spandex shorts, and was currently “not master of his domain”.

I’m sure that guy is shopping for wigs as I type this.

My brother deals with perverts as a cop.  My pervert awareness has increased considerably since he was given that assignment.  Don’t underestimate what lengths a person will go to to get their thrills.

Maybe we should be like Europe with unisex bathrooms monitored by attendants?  But please not the part where they decide how much toilet paper we get to have.  I was 15 when I went to Austria and wanted to tell one attendant, “Really?!  Three squares?”  It’s not enough to be covered!”

May your bathroom experiences be peaceful and non-eventful.  May we all have mutual respect for each other’s feelings and be considerate.  Twenty years ago, I never would have imagined this conversation would be happening.


It’s A Shame When You Spray An Innocent Stranger In The Crotch

When I was growing up, we drove a Chevy Malibu station wagon that had wood paneling.  I’m not sure how uncool it looked back then, but people were jealous when my brother and his friend hooked it up with the ability to spray the innocent and the not so innocent.  With an extra windshield fluid reservoir and an irresistible red button on the dashboard, we wreaked havoc all over town.  And on vacation.

My mom was an office aid at our school, but to the kids she was “Recess teacher” or simply “Recess”.  It drove her nuts.  “I do other things at this school!”  Well to them she was the lady who made them stand by the fence if they acted up, broke up their fights, etc.  Later she was the lady who chased one of them up “Spanish Hill” with her new powers.  Steve casually glanced over his shoulder to see who was coming, but his demeanor immediately turned to panic and he pedaled his heart out in vain.  Mrs. J. loved a good joke.  It was a hot day.  Mrs. J. loved her new squirters that poked out of the grill of her car.  It ended with his backside being sprayed.  Poor Steve.  I don’t even know if he deserved it or not.   Probably not.  But I think this story would be funnier if she had yelled, “Call me ‘Recess’ one more time!”

Other kids would beg Mrs. J to spray them and of course she was happy to honor those requests.  Then my dad sprayed some kid in a parking lot on our way to Lake Tahoe.  He looked down at his leg in horror.

The feature was most useful when we drove on the freeway because we were going fast enough for the water to go up over our car and hit cars behind us, so we used that against all tailgaters.  They would immediately back off, wondering what the heck was up with the car in front of them. The most validating moment was when they had to turn on their windshield wipers.  We never did follow through on our idea to fill the reservoir with green water to make them feel extra concerned.

I think Mom’s best friend finally decided she should get a taste of her own medicine.  We were heading to the movies and when we stopped at the 7-11 to get candy, some of us waited in the car.  When Mom walked back out and in front of it, her friend pushed the button, thinking there was one sprayer in the middle, but no.  There were two squirters that were not down the middle.

Carolyn completely missed my mom.

Carolyn successfully sprayed a complete stranger right in the crotch.  He looked down at his pants.  He looked up in horror at Carolyn, who was probably peeing her pants for real because she was laughing so hard, then back at his crotch.  There was a half smile, almost like he didn’t know whether to be offended or impressed.  I don’t think he liked being sprayed in the crotch.  I think he secretly wished he could spray other people in the crotch.  His facial expressions will be etched in my memory forever.

I think I can share this because surely the statute of limitations for crotch spraying has passed.  I think.  Just in case, I cannot confirm or deny that my mom sprayed innocent children or that her best friend made a grown man look like he peed himself.

May this fictional, yet true story live on forever!


Worst. Election. Ever.

I wrote this on Facebook way back in October (2015). Some people thought I was worrying about nothing.  Are my worst political fears being realized?

Trump vs Hillary

This scares me. It scares me probably 10x more than evil clowns. Please, please, please no. I will now name 10 people I would rather see as president than these two.

1. Gilbert Gottfried
2. The guy from the Old Spice commercials.
3. Whoever invented mayonnaise. They’re probably dead, but they would still make a great choice in comparison.  (To explain, I hate mayonnaise a lot.)
4. Fran Drescher
5. That exhibitionist who used to dance with a jump rope at the vacant corner lot in Fairwood when I was a kid. He’s probably still alive too. All that exercise kept him young.
6. Meatloaf (Not the singer. The meat.)
7. A lamp
8. That guy at the karaoke bar who got mad when Naomi said she was going to sing Bohemian Rhapsody.
9. Pretty much any 2-year-old.
10. John Cusack. Because he holds a radio over his head and it’s awesome. 

Who/what would you rather see as president?


It Talks Weird to Its Husband

Now that I’ve written two posts in a row about perverts, now for something amusing.(Although my husband said, “You still managed to make that funny!”)

This is rather demented though.

It was one of my goals in life not to be one of those naggy wives who henpecks her husband to death about a bunch of trivial matters.  Before I complain about anything, I ask myself, “Is this really worth mentioning?  Does it matter?”  I figure if I’m going to make a request, make it over something important.  I also don’t want to be a control freak, but sometimes trivial matters start to get to me.

Before I tell this story, I need to mention the background.  Back when we had regular TV with a working antenna (the digital convertor box never worked), we were flipping through channels when we came upon an awful scene where a woman is being held in a pit.  It was Silence of the Lambs.  We watched it long enough to figure out her captor’s plan, which was to do unspeakable things with her skin.  I could not get over this weirdo’s voice.  Whenever there’s a weird voice, I just can’t resist impersonating it.  Trying not to acknowledge that she’s a person with feelings, he calls down to her, “It puts the lotion on the skin.”  Something like that.  One of the most bizarre scenes ever.

Fast forward five years or so.  You know how every surface in your house can become a storage area for random stuff?  Our table was covered in stuff.  The dresser I beautified with a decorative basket and some candles?  It was soon overflowing with stuff.  The kitchen counter – stuff.  Our entertainment center – stuff!  Stuff, stuff, stuff!

I felt like I was entitled to at least one sacred space:  The fireplace mantle.  I wanted to have one spot to look at where I could think, “Isn’t that so pretty?”  Picture frames.  Candles.  A beautiful painting above it.

Then my husband started a nightly ritual of putting on lotion while we watched TV after his shower, as recommended by dermatologists.  Every morning the bottle of lotion was on our fireplace mantle, which was the surface closest to him.  I would say nothing, opting to return it to the bathroom closet.  “It doesn’t matter.” I told myself.  “There are worse things.”

One day I had friends coming to visit.  I did some crisis cleaning and as we were chatting, I think my eyes bugged out when I saw once again, the lotion was on the mantle!  “They must be wondering what kind of weirdo stores their lotion on the fireplace mantle!” I thought irrationally.  I couldn’t ignore it.  I hastily grabbed it and put it back again.

Later that night, we were watching TV.  He was applying lotion.  How could I bring up the issue without making a big deal about it?  He could say, “Oh yeah!  Well you leave the kitchen cupboards open!”  Actually, he does say this.  He says I’m trying to kill him.  Being short, they pose no risk to me, but he hits his head on them.  It’s a fair complaint.

Anyway, I suddenly found myself doing the creepy voice.  “It puts the lotion on the skin.  And when it’s done, it doesn’t put it on the fireplace mantle.”  He laughed his butt off.  Yay!  It wasn’t a big deal and the point was taken.

The next night, he told me in the same voice, “It puts the lotion on top of the piano.”  “NO IT DOESN’T!” I yelled creepily.

Maybe we should teach a seminar on conflict resolution in marriage?  :p  “Step 3:  Try suggesting things using the voice of a serial killer.”

Seriously though, I think 90% of marital arguments are probably stupid and based on something that was said or misunderstood while one or both parties was stressed or hungry.

I’m going to bed now.  Maybe it will rub my back?



Preparing Our Children For Abusive Situations

This post might offend some people.  It might be “oversharing”.  Some friends prefer to keep everything pleasant, fun, and uplifting.  I prefer to share any truth that might help someone.

As my children grow older, I have to warn them about unpleasant things and what to do if they’re ever faced with certain situations.  It’s been very discouraging to read accounts of what girls are dealing with in a time where pornography is more accessible than ever before, warping our youths’ minds as to what’s appropriate, real, etc.  I’ve read accounts of boys requesting certain “favors” before they have even kissed a girl!  Is romance dead?  My first romantic experience with a boy was him holding my hand and asking me respectfully a while later if he could kiss me.  He gave me an innocent peck on the lips.  The first time a boy called me, my brother got on the phone upstairs and threatened to flush his face down the toilet.  For some reason, it just didn’t work out.

I love to make people laugh, but I also feel a strong urgency to share experiences I have gone through in hopes others can be saved from being violated.  I want young men and women to know that no matter what, you should demand common decency.  Any peer who thinks you are meant to be used is not worthy of your affection. Ever.

I can’t believe the things that took me years to tell my parents about.  It’s not that I felt like I did something wrong.  It’s just hard to say out loud that I let these things happen to me.  I felt angry at myself and wished I could go back and do things differently.  My goal is to raise respectful sons and daughters who will also stand up for themselves.  You can’t predict every situation.  I knew about what to do if someone touched me inappropriately, but I never imagined what would later happen to me at school.


I’ve never told these stories in great detail and I wonder, “Is this what most girls went through or was I an easy target because I was petite and quiet?”  Believe it or not, I was very quiet in school.  I feared getting in trouble.  One guy called me out on it in 7th grade.  “You never say anything.  You just sit there and smile.  I think I’ll call you Smiley.”  “Oh, great.  I snagged someone’s attention by being quiet.” I thought.  I just wanted to blend in, not anger my teachers, and never be called on to say anything.  It took me quite a few years before I developed my more extroverted side.  I’m sure some friends are reading this in disbelief.  Me quiet?

I’m starting to shake as I write this.  I was in junior high when I needed another elective and settled on being a teacher’s assistant.  It was for an English class for kids who struggled in that subject.  I was happy to have a dear friend in there, but one of my duties included going into a back room to give students spelling tests if they had been absent.  This usually went fine, but with *Ron, he made a lot of off-color remarks.  I didn’t know what to make of him or his intentions.

Did Ron dislike me?  Did he resent that a fellow student was giving him a spelling test?  Was he embarrassed?  Did he think I thought I was better than him?  Maybe his behavior was a hugely inappropriate attempt to save face in some way.

Did he like me and think he was being funny?  Or did he think I would respond to his “advances” positively? (Were those advances?!)

Was I too eager to look for the good in people?  Did I believe that no one could truly be that disgusting?

Ron proceeded to ask me things like, “What’s up with that noise you’re making?  Are you horny or something?”  I glared at him and refused to respond.  I think my noise was me breathing.  Usually this means I enjoy not being dead.

I continued to administer the spelling test, choosing to ignore him.  When I tell my daughters this story, the lesson will be, “If any boy ever says anything like this to you, you walk away and tell the nearest adult – I don’t care how humiliated the boy will be.”  I should have ended the test right there.  I was probably thinking,”How do I tell the teacher that I didn’t finish giving him the test without calling attention to what happened?”  All of the students were boys except for my friend.  I didn’t want them to know how vulnerable I felt.

It got worse.  I again told Ron to spell something.  If I had been witty at the moment, I could have asked him to spell words like:

Sex offender (that’s two words, but whatever)
Shut-up, Ron!
If you threaten to expose yourself again, my brother is going to flush your face down the toilet.

Ron said, “Hang on a second, I have to adjust myself.  I need to take my penis out of my pants for a little bit.”

Me today would have marched right back into the classroom and exclaimed, “Ron’s spelling test is over because he’s threatening to take his penis out of his pants!”

Me back then?  I didn’t want to show him he upset me.  I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.  I wanted to yell at him, but if I yelled, I was going to burst into tears.  I don’t know why it was so important to me to try to show him he wasn’t bothering me.  I should have.  At the same time I was thinking ,”Yeah right.  Who would do that?”  I continued to stare at the test and he made various relieved sounds while his genitals were supposedly exposed.  I wasn’t going to look.  As I told this story to my oldest son, I said, “That wasn’t going to be the first time I saw that!”

I maintained my emotionless facial expressions until Ron realized I had no interest in him or his penis.  He said, “There.  I put it back in.”  I still didn’t look in case he was tricking me.  We finished the test and I avoided all eye contact until I exited the room.  I was fuming mad and I never told the teacher.  I should have.  I knew the consequences would be severe for him and I think I worried that his life would be ruined due to his extremely distasteful, awful, stupid judgment.  I also didn’t want to be grilled over whether Ron exposed himself or not.  I truly didn’t know.  I also had this idea that such a thing had to be reported immediately.  I could have told at any time.

Knowing what I know now, I’m betting Ron had plenty of exposure to pornography and had some twisted ideas about girls responding positively to that sort of behavior.  Because in pornography, women are turned on by everything and don’t require flowers, actual dates, respect, or having enough sense not to flash people you don’t know, barely know, or people you know well.  FYI, perverts!  Flashing people is frowned upon!  It’s not a mating call.

Because I didn’t report it, I’m now tortured by the thought that Ron really did what he said and moved on to victimize other people.  My brother is a cop and now works for the Pervert Unit (not the official name, but I think it has a nice ring to it), so when I hear stories about people he’s arrested, I want to cry when I think about what Ron might be doing nowadays.  Did he miraculously become a good family man or is he lurking in people’s backyards by their windows as he “is up to no good”?  I will probably never know.

My advice is to use all anatomically correct words with your children so they will always feel comfortable discussing such situations.  One of my sons immediately told me about what happened to him on the bus and it was because he wasn’t uncomfortable using those words.  We talked to the school right away because the little boy who acted so inappropriately obviously had something bad happen to him.

I have other stories, but I can only take so much at once.  I don’t have it in me to tell the gym teacher story right now.  It’s taken me years to get brave enough to share my writing publically – even about trivial things like cooking, so I publish this knowing not everyone will approve.  And please, don’t tell me maybe Ron had a disorder to explain his awful behavior.  He didn’t.

*Denotes the pervert’s real name.  Which was Ron.

Babysitting and Perverts

When I was about 11 years old, I got my first babysitting job for our next door neighbor.  It was such a convenient thing for both of us since I could walk and I was happy to be earning more than a dollar a week in allowance.  I was paid $1.50 an hour and at one time was given a generous $20 in one night.  I was so excited!  Luckily they didn’t fire me after my first time when their 5-year-old locked himself in the bathroom and sprayed athlete’s foot spray in his hair.  Not my fault they didn’t child proof the cabinets.

Eventually we moved to another house in the neighborhood and they still wanted me to babysit.  I wasn’t thrilled with the new arrangement because the dad always drove me home and something just didn’t feel right to me.  It’s not that he did anything.  I just had a bad feeling.

When I watched their kids, I had a rule that they were never to answer the phone because the last thing I needed was someone knowing there was no adult there.  If I answered, I would just say the parents weren’t available at the moment . Then one night as the phone was ringing, the little boy ran towards it as I frantically yelled, “NOOOOOOO!!!!” Before I could stop him, he was blurting out, “My parents aren’t here, but my babysitter is.”

I couldn’t even believe my ears when I picked up the phone.  The one time Carl managed to answer, it really was a pervert?!  First the guy muttered something I didn’t understand – probably because I was quite innocent and didn’t even have certain words in my vocabulary.  I said, “Excuse me?”  If I recall correctly, he asked if I had ever been “felt up” and I didn’t know what that meant.  Again I said, “Huh?”  Then he asked, “Do you have big boobs?”  “BUZZ OFF, CREEP!!!” I yelled.

I started shaking and I immediately made phone calls to arrange a ride to my house with the kids.  My mom didn’t answer, so I called a family friend.  The man sounded exactly like the kids’ father.  Exactly.  I’m not sure I ever told my parents that because it’s a pretty serious accusation to make.  There was no way I was going to face him when he came home or get in a car with him.  I left them a note saying they would have to come pick the kids up.  I never babysat for them again and they also never asked me again.

Disturbingly, the same pervert called my house weeks later, only increasing my suspicions that it was the dad.  Whoever it was had to know me personally.  You see kids, this is what life was like before Caller ID and *69.  What’s *69?  We used to dial that for a fee to see who just called.

Years later when we hired babysitters, one in particular looked like she had something uncomfortable to ask me.  I didn’t have to guess.  I said, “I just want you to know, my husband will NEVER drive you home.  I know that feeling and I would never put a girl through that.”  She looked relieved.  Yes, that was exactly what she wanted to bring up.  It feels rude to say it, but it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to ask for.  When my daughters start babysitting, that is a rule I will have to make clear with the parents.  “If Mom can’t drive my daughter home, I will pick her up.”

I’m not sure what brought this story to mind, but I wanted to share.  Have any babysitting stories?  Or stories about obscene callers?



It’s been a very busy couple weeks, but I just have to write about VidAngel!  I had seen the name a few times in ads, but I don’t usually try anything new until a friend has vouched for how awesome it is.  After a couple friends mentioned it and then my brother-in-law, I decided I definitely wanted to try it out.  Because I’m a follower.

Between my religious beliefs, personal preferences that I would have anyway, and having children whose ears and eyes I want to protect, I was so excited at the thought of being able to watch movies with them that have “That one scene” taken out that didn’t need to be in there in the first place, or those few swear words.

When I was growing up, many of my favorite movies were edited for TV and I was shocked to learn what they were really like.  One time I bought Stand By Me not realizing it was Rated R.

Me:  Kiefer?  WHAT?!  YOU WATCH YOUR MOUTH KIEFER SUTHERLAND!!!  What is this rated anyway?  R?!!!  I BOUGHT A RATED R MOVIE?!

That’s not to say that PG-13 movies are wholesome.  I avoid a lot of those too depending on the theme, but as a rule I don’t rent Rated R movies.

Christmas Vacation was another movie we bought and turned off after five minutes.  I had no clue there was so much profanity because I had only seen it on TV.

Thanks to VidAngel, I can watch movies and laugh a lot without a bunch of cringing thrown in.  I also have to say, they are really awesome about responding when I have a question.  I’m talking less than five minutes!  I have had to contact them a couple times now and they were so prompt and courteous.

They also won my heart on April Fools Day by promoting “VidDevil” – joking that it was a new service they had that only showed the parts of movies that are filtered out. Read the reviews, especially the one from Donald Trump .

When you rent from VidAngel, you have to choose at least one filter, but it can be something like the opening credits, closing credits, or even filtering out Jar Jar Binks!  I laughed so hard when I saw that.  Not that I’m expecting Jar Jar to show up in anything but Star Wars, but I like knowing I’m protected just in case.

VidAngel is having a promotion until April 9th.  If you can get 5 people to sign up AND watch a movie by April 9th, you get free movies for a year!  They said the average is 67, so to be safe, they’re giving people $150 in free movie rentals.  If in SD rather than HD, that’s 150 movie rentals!  My kids ask every morning, “How many people have signed up and watched a movie?”

We only need two more people.  Please, Internet.  Make my kids’ dreams come true.  While friends are going on surprise Disneyland trips for Spring Break (where we will probably never go considering we haven’t even been able to go visit my in-laws in 6 years), my children are elated by the idea of watching 150 movies for free because they know I won’t say yes to renting a movie near as often as they would like.

If you want to sign up, please click here.  Thank you!

Have any questions about VidAngel?  I’m happy to answer them!  I spent quite a while explaining to friends the concept of “selling back” the movies.  So your first rental, you’re charged $20 because you’re paying $1 to rent it and paying $19 for a license, which allows you to filter it.  When you “return” the movie (easiest thing in the world since you’re streaming it), they refund $19 into your VidAngel account rather than back on your credit card.  Every rental after that, your credit card will be charged $1.  They then take the $19 out of your VidAngel account, put it back, take it out, put it back again, etc.  You can also own the movie and opt not to return it.

There are two options for selling back – automatic and manual.  If you choose automatic, it is sold back as soon as the movie is over.  If you choose manual, you can watch it as many times as you want for 24 hours.  They will even send you warning emails letting you know it’s almost time to sell it back.  Cool, huh?  I didn’t know these things at first, so when we chose automatic sellback and my husband still wanted to watch the movie the next day, I was a little disappointed, but I wrote to VidAngel and they gave us a $1 credit considering we’re new and clueless about such things.

Give it a try!  Where else can you be guaranteed Jar Jar free viewing?  😀