Hocus Pocus Really Fast

Focus was always a guilty pleasure of mine, especially when they went out on the freakout limb like the live performance of Hocus Pocus seen above. This shit is crazy fast.

There's a good amount of video on their Official YouTube Channel, too.

Puchi Bruce is My New Hero

I don't know why he does what he does, and I'm probably the last guy on the Internet to hear about him, but Puchi Bruce is my new hero. And I've never even seen any of the Die Hard movies... Just knowing there's a Japanese guy who looks like a Japanese Bruce Willis and makes Bruce Willis movie send-ups is enough for me.

How about a Bruce Willis and Wesley Willis mashup? Whatchou talkin' about, Willis?


I nearly shit myself laughing at the first half of this video.

Cool Old Sluggo-Oriented Shit Found on the Web

I was screwing around online at work today, as I am wont to do as huge Photoshop butt-wiping operations files are bringing my workstation to a crawl, and I found this image of the Cream Castle's sign in my hometown of Sikeston, Missouri. The interesting (or maybe kinda frustrating) thing about it is that the guy over and Coffee and Pie doesn't even mention the Cream Castle. Instead, the story waxes nostalgic about Paul Eakins (pronounced AY-kins, as my dad recently corrected my wayward pronounciation of EE-kins) and his Gay 90s Museum of orchestrions & calliopes, yet doesn't offer a link to the Eakins website or a photo... Oh, and the Cream Castle photo is on the Springfield, MO page, while the Sikeston text is mixed up with photos of a crumbling Cairo, Illinois. Hrmph.

Anyway, the Cream Castle is a throwback to the car hop hamburger and fries era. Though it has seen it glory days pass, it was still in operation the last time I passed through Sikeston, and hopefully will continue to do so.


As for the Paul Eakins' Gay 90s Museum, here is a link to the website that sells recordings of the music machines that were the source of his passion.

Hey, Nice Hat

Annie Sprinkle's tits on my head, January 21, 1994, Vortex Theater, Austin.


How ya like me now?

211 hickman avenue, columbia, missouri 1988

In my old duplex in Columbia, Missouri, 1988. Photo by Andre Vospette (Who probably doesn't remember taking it).

No Contact Lenses for You

My eyes suck. I can barely focus on small text any longer, and routinely catch myself squinting like a blind bastard when trying to read magazines, newpapers, paperbacks, what have you. This is what 20+ years of sitting staring at computer monitors under brash fluorescent lighting does to you.

So recently, I ventured to the eye doctor to get a prescription for glasses. I decided that I wanted to try contacts as an alternative, so I was sent over to the inhouse optician to be fitted with "trial" lenses. I was told I would need training in how to properly put them in, take them out, spit-shine them, etc., to which I agreed. I was told to wash my hands and have a seat. Ten minutes later, a lady came out and told me that they would have to special order the contacts as I have astigmatism. No problem, I would just come back later.

They called me this past Wednesday to inform me that the lenses were ready, and that I could come in anytime. Now, the person on the other end of the line was the same person who said she would order the lenses, and the same person who knew I needed contact lens "training." Just to make sure I understood what she was saying , I asked again, "...And I can come anytime for this? (this meaning the contact lens instruction)" She said yes.

Since the eye doctor told me I should try the contacts over the weekend so that I wouldn't have the demands of work while adjusting to them, I thought coming in on Friday would be a good thing. I even called to make sure they were open over the mid-day lunch period, which they happily informed they were.

So I head over hoping to do my "training" and come back to work with possibly clearer vision and irritated eyes. I was actually excited about this prospect! The same lady who had ordered the lenses and told me I would need instruction before taking my new eyes greeted me and went to get the lenses. Upon return, she looked at my paperwork and said, "Oh wait... You've never had contact lenses? We'll have to make you an appointment for training." I reminded her she had told me on the phone that I could come in anytime for that, to which she answered, "Oh, you can pick them up anytime, but you'll need an appointment for training!"

I'm sure the look I gave her, though I remained courteous, let her know what I was thinking.

"Okay," I said, "Let's make an appointment then. I guess I misunderstood."

She replied that maybe she didn't explain things clearly. Then I told her that I had come on Friday because the doctor said trying the lenses over the weekend would be a good idea. She hemmed and hawed for a moment and said, "Well I guess I could walk you through it. Lets have you wash your hands and have a seat." I thought to myself for a moment about deja vu, then proceeded to wash my hands.

After a few minutes, she came back with the little yellow and blue boxes containing my contacts. Again she looked at my paperwork and frowned. "Oh, you have astigmatism. That's different, I can't show you how to handle these."

Though I wasn't meaning to show it, I stared her down with a look that said "Bitch, are you for real?*"

Then she followed with, "Well, the doctor isn't in today anyway, and he likes to be here to work with you in these situations."

Well, shit.

"I'm learning all these new things that nobody has bothered to tell me before," I said, losing the will to be Mr. Nice Guy. "Maybe I should come back for that appointment when there is someone here who can help me. Thank you."

I left. With very clean hands.

I'm still thinking that I should call them back and tell them to roll those contacts up and shove them in a tight spot.


* Kudos to Dolemite