Lattice of Coincidence...

"A lot o' people don't realize what's really going on. They view life as a bunch o' unconnected incidents 'n things. They don't realize that there's this, like, lattice o' coincidence that lays on top o' everything. Give you an example; show you what I mean: suppose you're thinkin' about a plate o' shrimp. Suddenly someone'll say, like, plate, or shrimp, or plate o' shrimp out of the blue, no explanation. No point in lookin' for one, either..."

--Miller

Way back in August 2006 the lovely and talented Melinda June mentioned the Compound favorably on her blog. I started reading her, and checking out the sites she linked to, and then the sites the people she linked to, linked to. It took me a a little while, but I realized that quite a few of these bloggers:

• were from the midwest
• specifically from the Chicago area
• about the same age as we were
• had a bunch of the same interests we did
• frequented a bunch of the same bars and hangouts we used to

Melinda, it turns out, grew up in Iowa a short distance away from a bunch of MizBubs' family. Melinda, Lulu and Coaster Punchman all went to school in the same town as some of MizBubs' family. Tenacious S is a huge fan of Naked Raygun, and MizBubs' best friend dated their drummer for a long time. Lulu grew up a short distance away from where we now live, and now lives about a couple blocks away from where I used to live--we've essentially switched neighborhoods. Johnny Yen went to the same grammar school as MizBubs, and had the same teacher in the gifted program. He also worked at a barbecue joint next door to the tattoo parlor where MizBubs and I both got some work done.

And yet none of us ever ran into each other. Until recently.

MizBubs and I had the good luck to have met Lulu, Tenacious S and Johnny Yen recently. Last Friday night we all met and had a couple of well-deserved drinks at Tiki Terrace. The coincidence continued; Lulu informed me that it used to be the site of a Mexican restaurant that allowed underage teens to drink, and I collected bloody clothing on one of my first big cases from the 7-11 across the street.

I can't remember the last time three or four hours passed by so quickly. Let me tell you--I don't think you could ask for a better group of conversationalists. At times it almost turned into a game of "6 degrees of separation", made more surreal by the Hawaiian language version of theCarter Family tune "Will the Circle Be Unbroken" playing in the background.

Oddly enough, no one ordered a plate of shrimp. Maybe next time.

Clown killer remains at large...

I hope you vicious clown haters are happy now:

Two circus clowns have been shot dead during a performance

I think that either drugs or Marxist politics may have been involved.

Germany or Florida

Time for another round of Germany or Florida. Decide if each of the following news stories originated in Germany or Florida. Scroll down for the answers.

1) A woman goes into the hospital to give birth. A few months later she's a quadruple amputee, and the hospital won't explain what happened to her.

2) A brother and sister, both in their 20's, are going to court to legalize their incestuous relationship. The brother has already done some time in jail.

3) A "growing subculture "Emo" fad where teens cut themselves to express their personal pain has prompted concern from parents..."

4) "Flyer's chocolate", "shabu" or "gingerbread", an amphetamine that causes euphoria and excitement, has become a popular party drug.












1) Florida.

2) Germany.

3) Florida.

4) Germany.

There is no "I" in team

But there are plenty of clowns.

Friday Random Ten: February 23

Twisting—They Might Be Giants

Femme Fatale—The Velvet Underground

I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry—Johnny Cash

Death at the Bar—Kitty Wells

Settin' the Woods on Fire—Hank Williams

Honky Tonk Man—Johnny Horton

Saving All My Love For You—Tom Waits

We're Desperate—X

I Asked For Water—Howlin' Wolf

The Big Three Killed My Baby—White Stripes

You can't always get what you want

But if you try sometime, you just might find, you get what you need.

And what I need is a drink. A fruity tropical drink, swilled down with gusto, surrounded by tropical foliage and dazzling conversation. So I'm just twitchy with anticipation, waiting to head over to Tiki Terrace Friday night.

My first two days off have been almost entirely consumed by running errands (not mine, other people's) and I have a sense of having gotten nothing worthwhile done. I worked a cool side job today, escorting a few million dollars worth of jewelry for a TV appearance. Some of the jewelry had been worn by Scarlett Johannson, and some was bound for the Oscars this Sunday.

I'm sitting here talking with MizBubs. She's just figured out how to turn the heel of a sock she's knitting. I wish I had any ability to actually create something. MizBubs, and both of our daughters, know how to make stuff: jewelry, clothing, art. So, anyway, we're talking about going down to New Orleans and doing some building. And I'm ranting and bitching about work. Our eldest is getting ready for Fangoria Weekend of Horror in Rosemont this weekend; she's hanging out as a Tromette again.

Get me to the weekend. And get me some sleep.

On, Wisconsin

More news from our cheese-making, brandy-drinking brothers to the north:

Man mistakes porn DVD as woman's cries for help

James Van Iveren, 39, grabbed a sword and allegedly kicked in his upstairs neighbor's door when he mistook the sounds of a porn movie for the sound of a woman being assaulted. James was at home with his mother at the time, and couldn't call police because he has no telephone.

I think he was hoping that 19 years of sword fighting at the Bristol Renaissance Fair would finally pay off and he'd get to rescue a maiden.

When more is not enough

I think that we all need to take this quiz immediately to see if we need this product. Be warned, though, even a miracle drug like this may have some potential side effects.

Today in Televangelism

February 21st, 1988: Jimmy Swaggart gives his famous "I have sinned against you" speech, blubbering and begging forgiveness after getting caught with a hooker in a Metairie, Louisiana motel. Swaggert, who helped drive fellow evangelists Jim Bakker and Marvin Gorman out of the ministry, was then defrocked himself. Clearly the irony was lost on Jimmy, as he then railed against the Assemblies of God for their lack of forgiveness. There are some good accounts of Swaggart's travails here and here.

Showing how much tougher your old school preachers were, Swaggart blamed his hooker and porn problem on demons, and had said demons cast out over the telephone by Oral Roberts--no three weeks of chickenshit Ted Haggard "counseling" for Jimmy. Nope, just one phone call.

The demons stayed cast out for at least a couple of years. In 1991 Swaggart was again caught with a prostitute. Showing that the forgiveness of his followers was near-inexhaustible, he still had a congregation. He addressed his flock: "God says it's none of your business!"

And he still has that congregation: Jimmy Swaggart Ministries.

I'd say it's clear that Rev. Swaggart has been humbled by his struggles with sins of the flesh. During his Sunday sermon on November 10, 2002, Swaggart shared his thoughts on the prophet Muhammad:

Thank God for that Baptist preacher who stood up and said at a Baptist convention, "I'm going to tell you who Muhammad is: he is a sex pervert, deviant, pedophile who married a 7-year-old girl."

You're not hearing me saints? "What did you say," you ask? The Baptist preacher before thousands said Muhammad was a sex deviant, a pervert, a pedophile. He married a 7-year-old little girl! A little girl, seven years old--that's a pedophile. And, oh, the news went crazy. "Ohhhhhhhh! Hear what he said?"

I don't know who you are, Mr. Preacher, but thank God for you--thank God for a spine that's like a Texas sawlog. Thank God for a heart that beats for Jesus Christ.

Speaking for myself, personally, if I'd ever been caught getting freaky with a series of prostitutes, I'd probably refrain from public statements. But that's just me.

Where y'at?

Happy Mardi Gras everyone. Hope y'all have an excellent day, full of good food and music. Wear a little purple, green or gold. Try and work a little dance step into your daily routine.


I really fell down on the job this year, and I don't have a lot of good visuals and music. I tried to find a digital version of James "Sugar Boy" Crawford's original recording of "Iko Iko" (originally known as "Jockamo".) It's a quintessential New Orleans song. Most people think it's much older than it really is--Crawford wrote it in 1954, and the Dixie Cups had a top 40 hit with it in 1965. You can listen to the Dixie Cups version here. I love the sound of it, especially when it was used to sinister effect in the movie The Skeleton Key.

This video features Dr. John, the Meters and Professor Longhair:



You can check out the Neville Brothers' version here. You can find some more ass-shakin' piano music video from Dr. John here (check out his boots!), and from Professor Longhair here.


Cook yourself something from The Creole and Cajun Recipe Page.


You can work on your faux New Orleans accent and vocabulary here: How ta tawk rite.

I've saved the best for last. Visit the New Orleans Area Habitat for Humanity website, and make a donation. Better still, try and head down there and do some volunteer work this spring or summer. The St. Bernard Recovery Project, having cleaned out and gutted over 2,000 homes, is preparing to rebuild.

Today is Murderous Clown Monday

This is my work week in a nutshell: dames, clowns, violence and glue-sniffing.

Nerves of steel

In my opinion this next video bears repeated viewing. Sure, it's enjoyable enough the first time: what's not to enjoy about watching a grown man terrified by a reptile? Click on the video, watch it, and then read down.



Wasn't that fun? Now, watch it again, but consider these points:

1) Watch his hands. This man is so paralyzed with fear that, even though he thinks he's being attacked by a flying lizard, he can't even effectively move his hands to fight it off. Watch them flutter hilariously.

2) Listen to his voice. His vocal chords choke up and he can't even get words out, just odd gacking sounds like he's hocking up a hairball. That is, until he lets out with "what the f*ck" as he goes down.

3) Watch how his legs lock up and he loses his balance, pitching sideways. Reminds me of those bits John Belushi used to do on SNL, the ones where he'd do a commentary on Weekend Update and become more and more hysterical, and eventually fall out of his chair.

It's a miracle he didn't pull that poor snake in half as he went over.

IT'S TIKI TIME

Snow...freezing cold...salt stained footwear...misery. It's TIKI TIME!

MizBubs and I can't take it any more. We need to get out and have couple a drinks. It's f*cking cold and awful, and we can't afford airfare to Las Vegas, New Orleans or Key West right now, so we gotta come up with a plan B. Nothing beats the winter blues and cabin fever like a few Mai Tai's, Zombies, Apu-Apu's or Suffering Bastards in the company of friends. Here's the deal:

MizBubs and I will be at the Tiki Terrace in Prospect Heights on Friday, February 23, from 6:30pm on. Here's the address:

1 S. Wolf Road, Prospect Heights

They have good drinks, and some live music starting around 7pm. And they got snacks! (awesome fresh taro chips) Come on, let's hang out for a while. We deserve it.

Hope we see a few of you there.

Ten Favorite Things

It's been a while since I got on one of these things. Lulu, Wonderturtle and Tenacious S have all composed some wonderful lists so far.

Here is mine:

Ten favorite things starting with the letter S:

The Sazerac. I've mentioned them before, and in my opinion it's a perfect cocktail:

• 2 oz rye whiskey (bourbon will do in an emergency)
• ½ oz bar syrup
• absinthe (you can use Absente or Herbsaint)
• 3 drops Peychaud's Bitters
• Twist of lemon peel

1. Put a few drops of absinthe in a rocks glass and swirl to coat the glass.
2. Mix the whiskey, syrup and bitters in a cocktail shaker over ice until chilled.
3. Pour into rocks glass over two ice cubes. Rub rim of glass with lemon peel.
4. Enjoy!

Sex: Well, duh. Seriously, I'm fascinated with it, all its complexity, joys and horrors. My love of all things sexy and sleazy is ironic, though, given that I'm also offended by the increasing pornification of our culture, and I'm fairly modest in my personal life.

Slot machine noise: That exciting, omnipresent noise inside every big casino. Every once in a while I'll hear something that reminds me of it—a cell phone ring, a video game—and I'll be instantly transported to that wonderful moment when you first walk into a casino.

Skillets. Big iron skillets. We have a nice collection of well-seasoned cast iron skillets, and I use them nearly every day. They feel great in your hand when you're cooking, and they have a great old look. Plus Wanda Jackson had a great song about beating her husband with one.

From My Big Iron Skillet:

There's gonna be some changes made
When you get home tonight
Cause I'm gonna to teach you wrong from right

With my big iron skillet in my hand
Gonna show you how a little woman
Can whip a great big man
If you live through the fight
We're gonna have when you get home
You'll wake up, and find yourself alone

Sweet tea: Summertime in the south. I can only drink it when the temperature goes over 90.

Sunshine: I've always liked being outside, and I dig that near-blinding sunbaked feeling you get in places like Las Vegas, or the combination of sunshine and water in places like the Florida keys. I seem to crave it more as I get older.

Swamps: Why am I so attracted to a landscape that, frankly, scares the shit out of me? Snakes and alligators. Fever, bourbon and decay. Mmmm... I've been in mangrove swamps in Florida, and Cypress swamps in Louisiana. I like the cypress swamps better.

Shotguns: BOOYAH! There is not much in this world more fun and satisfying than shooting a big-ass 12 gauge shotgun. I own two of them, a Remington 870 tactical shotgun (think Ving Rhames in the Dawn of the Dead remake) and an antique Winchester Model 12.

Splatter movies: The wetter, the better. I want so much gore and grue flying off the screen you feel like you need a raincoat.

Summertime: And the living is easy. Catfish, barbecue, sweet tea, drinking on the back porch. Sleepy dogs.

Random shmandom

Computers used to be so much easier. We just got a new computer, and for some reason half of the songs we had in iTunes didn't transfer over. So now, especially for some of the compilations I've gotten, I have to go back and search for each individual song and put it back in its proper directory. I hate bringing up a playlist only to have the music stop, and see that little exclamation point sitting there mocking me. I think my random ten choices are starting to mirror my increasingly fragmented and disjointed state:

Jack the Ripper—Link Wray

Green Door—The Cramps

Japanese Sandman—Martin Denny

She Blinded Me With Science—Thomas Dolby

Fed-a-Ray—Lord Beginner

Goin' To Chicago Blues—Peggy Lee

Blue Yodel No. 4—Bill Monroe

That's Showbiz—Rev. Horton Heat

Nightclubbing—Iggy Pop

I'm Not Talkin—The Yardbirds

Give the people what they want

And if the people (and by that I mean one solitary Australian Googler) want Sybil Danning, then by God I aim to give em some Sybil Danning.

Lovers of exploitation movies rejoice: Sybil Danning is about to return to the big screen after an absence of 18 years! This picture is from the trailer to "Werewolf Women of the SS." WWOTSS is a trailer directed by Rob Zombie that's going to be shown halfway through the new Quentin Tarantino/Robert Rodriguez movie Grindhouse. Man, am I excited!

Grindhouse is a tribute to all those sleazy exploitation wonders from the 70's and early 80's. Splatter films, slasher films, women-in-prison movies (hubba), torture films, Giallo, Jess Franco, cannibal movies...whew. Go to the official Grindhouse website and watch the trailer--all I can say is, any movie that features a hot amputee chick being outfitted with a prosthetic leg/machine gun is ok by me. You can see a nice collection of stills here at Bloody-Disgusting.

Hmmm...if Sybil Danning is back, maybe we'll see more of Mary Woronov.

I'll have the road omlette and a side of cow parts

It's 845 miles from Sheboygan, Wisconsin to Fairfax, Virginia, and evidently trucker news travels fast.

On February 11, an unknown trucker crashed his rig into a guard rail and spilled 165,000 eggs onto the highway. He high-tailed it outta there before the police showed up. Undoubtedly he'd heard, through the trucker grapevine, what happens when you spill a truck full of animal products onto the roadway, and then stick around to give the cops some lame-ass excuse.

Site Meter Tells All...

A paddler in Seattle wants to know about Old Town wood and canvas canoe

A mountain dweller in Denver, Colorado, seeks hippo tortoise 2007

A reader in Charlotte, North Carolina is still grieving the loss of New Orleans resident Addie Hall

Turks want moose attack videos

Some Brit from Swanley Junction seeks revolver sudden smashed spillane.

Another aspiring paddler from Cambridge, Massachussetts, wants information on 17' Old Town Charles River canoe restoration

Everyone wants to know about Armi and Danny.

Hoosiers have got to find Negro Modelo dealers in Indiana

And, finally, someone wants to see Sybil Danning nude. Jesus, buddy, who doesn't?

It's almost Valentine's Day--SWING, BABY

That's amore

Who cares if these 5,000 year old skeletons are in a lover's embrace or just tangled up? It's Valentine's Day, and anyway it's just cool to see skeletons hugging.

Now wouldn't it be funny if both those skeletons are the same sex?