So…the rubber penis is gone. It’s actually been gone a few weeks; it disappeared a few days after I photographed it. I shudder to imagine the circumstances of its departure. They can only be at least as, if not grosser than how it got there in the first place.
Anyway, my world has not been unduly devoid of refreshing weirdness, and as luck would have it, I’ve had my camera handy to photograph the choicer examples.
One day at work last week, I was going upstairs mid-afternoon to heat up some water for more tea (still diggin’ the Lapsang) and I looked out the window on the landing halfway up to the second floor and saw this:
Yes, boys and girls. It is a van. A porno van. With a pornstache.
I abandoned my tea-getting project and dashed outside to snap a few pictures.
Head-on. I’d been concerned that the bug-screen would obscure my view of this van’s curly handlebars, but it’s just fine.
Driver’s side view.
Fiction is fun…so they say.
As I was pottering around photographing this van (because who would believe me if I just told them that I saw a van with a moustache?) the owners of said van came out of the burger joint next door and introduced themselves. The ‘stache van is owned by a band from Denver, Colorado who call themselves “Fiction Is Fun.” They were passing through Kansas City and were going to put on a guerrilla performance somewhere down in the Crossroads district later on in the day.
Here they are in Eugene, Oregon, busking for money to repair their van.
There used to be a van in our neighborhood with a mustache, roses, and tits and a penis painted on it. I miss that local color.
Shoot, man, I totally remember that van. I always meant to take a picture of it, but that was before I had a digital camera, so it never happened. Wonder what ever became of that sweet whip?