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The X Files
Xavier Hermosillo is the President of, a national Crisis Communications, Marketing, and Management firm he founded 23 years ago. He is a former political chief of staff, an award-winning reporter and photographer, and a former radio talk show host and TV commentator in Los Angeles. He has co-founded two publicly-traded companies where he served as a member of the Board of Directors and as the Senior Vice President of Investor Relations and Corporate Communications. He has also served as a Hearing Examiner for the Los Angeles Police Commission on police officer discipline cases, and holds degrees in Administration of Justice and Business and Communications. He can be reached at

Why are people so anxious to see that lying, cheating, two-timing, double-dealing, Scott Peterson rot in hell as opposed to rotting in prison while he awaits the death penalty?

ALL men cheat on their women!! Period!! Some cheat for real, the true adulterers. Some only cheat in their minds, while others wish they had the gonads to seriously pursue an impure thought about someone other than their main squeeze.

This is PRECISELY why I didn’t follow the Scott Peterson murder trial. No REAL manly man would kill his wife just because he wanted to have carnal knowledge of a foxy blond like Amber Frye. Men were born to be dogs and follow the scent of a skirt, ANY skirt that yields the possibility of conquest or more. There is ABSOLUTELY NO NEED to kill anyone for a piece of action. Scott Peterson, besides being a sick twerp, didn’t have the manly stones to amble with Amber and then tell Laci to either deal with it, or take a walk.

Look, cheating isn’t pretty, but a sense of honesty or bravado in cheating is better than what Scott Peterson got himself into. He now faces years of either being the subject of physical and sexual attacks in prison that will probably make him BEG for the death penalty during all he upcoming years of automatic appeals of his sentence, or, he’ll live a miserable life in prison before dying, paying for his crime a day at a time.

I tell you all this because I am shocked and awed by the visceral reaction by so many people around me about what should happen to Peterson. Some want him dead NOW and are willing to volunteer as the executioner. Others believe the longer he sits on death row and is subject to a sort of slow death by humiliation and plunder, the better.

Probably one of the most interesting aspects of the anger Peterson has generated is that for many California folks, they can’t begin to understand why there is an automatic appeal by the system of someone’s death penalty sentence.

“Why should we have to pay for that piece of (excrement) to sit in jail, to feed him, cloth him, when he should have a rope tied around him and some rocks, and do to him what he did to Laci and Conner,” I have heard someone say. “Drop HIM in the bay and let the sharks feed on him.”

“An appeal? Appeal for what? He did it, they found him guilty, kill him!!” another shouts. And that’s just in my household. Wow!

Woman are particularly strong in their condemnation of Scottie Boy. What’s the old saying about there being nothing worse than a woman scorned? Scott seems to have scorned them all, my wife included. This normally strong, but quiet love of my life is beside herself. She understands men are dogs, and I’m probably the best example she knows. She’s learned I’m probably more bark than bite when my eyes wonder away from her toward some other majestic magnet of manly desire, but Scott has screwed it up BAD for all of us.

I hear women asking their men “why the hell did he kill her (Laci)” as if we would know. My wife asked me if Peterson’s murder of his wife and baby bothered me, and I found it uncomfortable to give her a straight answer. Of course it bothered me, but the “stupid guy” part of me started babbling about what an idiot he was because “hey, Amber Frye is hot and who wouldn’t want to hit on her. But kill your wife and kid over it?” I pontificated while questioning my sanity for getting this far down a dumb non-answer to her question. “Hell,” I blurted out as I looked for a reasonable way out of my own mess, “if you’re going to cheat, you just tell your wife that you did it and she can either deal with it or walk out the door!!” So there!!

Lucky for me, I was driving down the freeway as I was stepping all over my tongue. Otherwise, my wife might have hoisted my backside out the house door. I somehow managed to further explain the unexplainable. And she somehow found enough inner peace or restraint to allow me to dig a deeper hole.

Look, there are two kinds of people who do not understand or will not accept the premise I have laid down: that cheating is a part of a man’s very being. We are hunters for food, power, women, love, sex, control, money, whatever. It’s in our genes. If it’s out there for the getting, we want to get some. And we can never have enough.

We will get a strong disagreement from two kinds of people who do not understand: 1) women, and 2) self-righteous and pious religious zealots who will claim their attempt at divine purity precludes them from straying from their soul-mate, their morals, or their religious beliefs. LIARS!! No one is perfect. We all stray at some point, even if only in our minds. Remember when then-President Jimmy Carter said he lusted in his heart after some babe when he was out fishing.

Then later, of course, we found out another President lusted in his office, all over Monica Lewinsky’s blue dress. “The spot that will live in infamy,” we could say.

Anyway, Bill Clinton is the perfect example of the worst in men, sexually and pathologically speaking. He exemplifies the sexual hunter. The late night comics kid about him, his enemies remain disgusted by him, but he DOES represent the worst part of the male personality that most people dislike…….except those of us who understand it, and those women who love it because their character flaws see it as okay. We generally call this female flaw the “slut syndrome.”

There should probably be a similar label for equally loose men, but I haven’t heard it.

Back to Scott Peterson, there’s clearly one thing about what he did that was wrong: MURDER! The rest of his actions, as a low-life cheating cad…..well……guys can understand it. I can tell you that way too many friends of mine, and on TOO MANY occasions, we have sent more time talking about Amber Frye and the probable explorations of her by Scott, than we did in discussing the horrors of what Scot did to his wife and baby.

We didn’t mean to dishonor the memory of the dead or make it any less horrible than it actually was. It’s just that men in general, intelligent and otherwise, end up wanting to talk about that cute, thin blond that’s still available out there, rather than discuss grisly details of death.

We don’t hesitate to suggest Scott should suffer terribly at the hands of some Big Bubba in prison, because we know we would NEVER allow ourselves to do something as horrific as what Scott did.

Would a guy be as willing as some women we have heard from to volunteer to stick the deadly needle into Scott’s arm 25 years from now when his death sentence appeals run out? One friend of mine was quick to respond that he WOULD love to do that. Not because he has some sick sense of wanting to kill Scott. No, he said, he would volunteer to take Scott out ONLY because it might give him a chance to meet Amber Frye and hit on her to try and get her phone number.

So now you see why I chose not to follow the Peterson case? It wasn’t about the ugliness of the murders. It was about why the idiot killed two people just because he wasn’t man enough to stand up and say he cheated and wanted out of his marriage.

If you’re going to be an ass in life, at least do it like a man. Stand up and take responsibility for destroying your marriage and that of your immediate and extended family. Live with the consequences of your actions and be strong enough to justify your actions and your stupidity in ruining multiple lives. But murder?

Scott, I hope you rot in jail from the diseases of your own doing. And smile when Big Bubba calls out to you, “Come here Scotty Sugar.”