Hometown Anonymous Survey, If It's Your Birthday

My hometown of Westerville is asking residents to take a survey about city services. Postcards were sent in the mail to help residents get to the survey website.

Here's a scan of the survey:


My initial thought was that they might track me down if I said some awful things about the city. (I really don't have any thing bad to say. Westerville is an great place to live with excellent city services.) Luckily, they included this disclaimer about anonymity:


That's great! They will not track my responses with some type of household identification number. And then I read down a few lines of the instructions:


Nice. I really assume that they are not using this number to track residents, but rather the areas of town or perhaps to only allow one survey per household. But they probably should have called that number something a little different.

The best part of the instructions comes a few lines later when they try to explain that this is a household survey and that only one member of the household should answer the online questions. For the couple that can't get their shit together and decide who should fill out the survey, they provide a marriage counseling solution:


This is how custody battles should be resolved in court.

Eddie uıǝʇspןoƃ and the Business Card

I met Eddie Goldstein in Denver back in 1995. He's a magician and a trickster. A friend and a an awesome guy to know. My company is smart enough not to send me to very many conferences as I might do something that would reflect poorly upon our institution. Every year that I do not go to the big yearly conference, I ask my co-workers to say hello to Eddie for me.

This year, someone went to the conference and said hi to Eddie for me. He in turn gave them one of his business card which was then placed in my mail box. Here's the card:


I immediately noticed that the phone number was upside down so in flipping the card you get this:


That is pretty cool. I looked at it, flipping the card down side up and back again for a few minutes. Then I flipped the card over and this is what I saw:


Thank you, Eddie. I miss you, too.

A Review of The Outland on Liberty

The Outland (at least I thought it was the Outland) has re-opened and I went on Saturday night to check it out. We were wrapping up our night at the HighBall and our friends were scattering to different bars/clubs. As several opportunities opened up, John turned to me and said, “Let’s go to the Outland.” I repeated, “Let’s go to the Outland.”

Here is the history of the Outland via Columbus Alive.
  • Circa 1994: Capuano's brother Chuck buys Outland, a struggling gay nightclub located at 1034 Perry St. in Harrison West
  • Sept. 2004: The bar closes after the property is sold to the Wagenbrenner Company, which turns surrounding land into an upscale housing development
  • 2005: The bar reopens in an old Big Bear on Harrisburg Pike on the South Side
  • April 2008: The bar closes after a charter school moves into the shopping center
  • Oct. 2009: Outland reopens in the former location of Metropolitan, a French bistro and lounge. An Eiffel Tower replica still welcomes bar-goers at the building's front entrance.
The newest version of the Outland is now located on Liberty Street in German Village. As a matter of fact, and I assume due to pending lawsuits with competing Goth bar interests, it is called The Outland on Liberty. The Eiffel Tower replica that is still out front is either on National Registry of Historic Places or just too damn expensive to remove.

Before I continue, I should build a small glossary of terms so that we will all be on the same page with the words I am about to use:

Freaky Freaks: A term of endearment. The standard attendee of the Outland… Goths, industrials, warlocks and witches. Wears black, tattooed, some make-up. A small percentage of these like to get their torture on.

Tourists: They stand out, but try to fit in. They are not in the Goth community, but enjoy the music and the atmosphere. They respect the Goth culture, except for the bit where they call them Freaky Freaks. It’s me. I am a tourist.

Popsicles: People who go to the Outland to see if what they heard was true. Little respect for the culture. They point and laugh. They only go once and that’s enough.

Torture: The area of Outland where people sign-up to get whipped or shocked or humiliated in front of everyone.

Get Your Dance On: Dance, anyway you want, without repercussions or judgment.

We arrived in separate cars and were able to take advantage of the ample German Village parking. As I waited for John to park, I watched many of the costumed people walk by, heading for the entrance. I would expect people to be “dressed up” entering The Outland on Liberty, as that’s what the Freaky Freaks do, but not as Sarah Palin or a bumblebee.

John and Bekah arrived and we headed up to the entrance.

There was something really wrong. As we walked up, there was an undeniable thump of poppy, generic club music dry heaving out the front door. This was not at all normal or actually was too normal if this were a standard club. Bland. As we stood in line, I could see the outside smoking area and it seemed like there was a mix of the standard Goths along with people dressed up in Halloween costumes. So we knew we were at the right place.

It was $5 to get in. We got in.

Inside, the same clubby music dismayed. Not that I am against club music in other clubs… I was just expecting a bit more brooding. There is a raised dance area on the left and a bar on the right. I went right. Back at the old Outland, you could order a rum and diet and they would pull out a generic bottle of rum and a 2-liter of Diet Big-K Cola. The two would negotiate real estate in the large plastic cup and usually rum would win about 85% of the cup. The Outland on Liberty did not disappoint. Generic rum was still available, but Big-K has been replaced by the fountain bar gun. The drink is still outrageously potent and cheap.

Potent potable

We looked around and got our bearings. Dance floor. Bar. Girl in leather dancing on bar. Bathrooms. This could not be it. There had to be more.

There! A double hallway leading back…somewhere.

On the other end of the hallway was a bit more of what I was expecting. Another raised dance area, but this time with industrial music. Though some miracle of architecture, the teeny-bopper club music from the other side of the building did not bleed into the Goth side.

There were couches and a DJ along with the dance area. Some pool tables that looked like that had made the journey from the Perry Street were stuck in the far back. And down a small, dark hallway was the torture area. It was currently populated by some dude getting whipped by a chick. He seemed to be enjoying it. Around the corner from the secluded whipping area was a few seats and some dude was shocking/ tickling/ pleasuring a chick with electricity. It was oddly stimulating to watch.

Back out on the main floor, the three of us took it all in. And sadly, it was a bit disappointing.

For one, there is way too much light. The Outland deserves to be dark. The place was lit up like a Christmas tree and I can say that with authority because there were Christmas lights strung up everywhere. I only want to be able to see about ten feet in front of me. There is comfort in the dark.

Now because it wasn’t dark, I couldn’t help but notice the chick in the extremely skimpy bikini walking around with shots. Yes, I am a big fan of the flesh, but it just seemed out of place for the Outland to have a worker strutting around in a bikini. Same goes for the very nice girl dancing on the bar in the club area. Sure she was hot and enticing, but I never saw the Outland as a place that paid people to be entertainment. It wasn’t necessary.

My biggest issue is that I don’t like all the Popsicles busting in while I’m getting my dance on. It is one thing when a few outsiders would show up at the Outland and either assimilate or leave. But when there is an entire club of them twenty feet away, it’s hard not to have a revolving door of lookie-loos checking out the brightly lit Goths. I was there on Halloween, so everyone was playing the role of someone else and it seemed like people were getting along, but I just don’t like to mix my mediums. I want dance with the freaky freaks and not have to think that I am being checked out every five minutes by a couple of Popsicles.

Two-Sack gets his dance on

I understand the need for club owners to please a larger crowd and to create a varied atmosphere for diverse patrons. But I really think that something has been lost. I’ve never seen the Outland books, so I do know if a customer base solely made up of Goths can keep a club open or not. Perhaps the owners have done this out of necessity. For a club so large, I can see where they need to pack as many people in there as possible. Perhaps Goths and Popsicles can learn to live and dance in peace. But I don’t think so and I don’t like it.

If the rumors are true that a second Goth bar will be opening in German Village and it caters to just the Goth crowd, I can all ready see a line of brooding, leather and black dressed patrons heading for a smaller, darker and accepting venue. And I’ll be right behind them.

Outland Reopens... Again

The Outland is reopening for the third time since I started going back in 1999. Check out this article in Columbus Alive.

The Outland is a wonderful goth bar with dancing, torture and a rum and coke that will kill cancer. It's open until 4:00am and offers some of the best people watching in town. Though the best part is that you can dance as poorly as I do and no one gives a shit. I love that place.

One of my favorite Outland stories involves my brother Steve and Johnny Two-Sack. It was in 2001 and Steve and I spent the afternoon in Athens, OH watching Toledo beat OU in football. We drove back to Columbus and partied at Shorty's house for a few hours. While drinking, we told my brother a bit about the Outland and how great it was. He said, "Detroit, baby. Let's go."

So John drove us over close to the club and we all got out of the car. Steve was wearing a trench coat and a Toledo Rockets jersey and a t-shirt underneath. I took a look at his sports apparel and said, "You can't wear that shirt in there."

Steve looked at me and removed his jacket. Then he took off his jersey. And his tee-shirt. Bare chested, he put his trench coat back on.

John perked up at this point. "Steve, I can't let you go in like that." And John took off his leather jacket, removed his shirts and then put his jacket back on. "OK, now we can go in."

On the inside, we drank and I stood off to the side and watched as John and my brother danced with the goths and the punks. I bumped into a guy from work. We chatted a bit and he pointed out my brother on the dance floor. "Look at that guy." I said, "That's my brother." Friend said, "Is he a regular?"

I hope to see you there tomorrow. I'll be the one with a rum and diet, dancing like a fool. Dancing like a regular. Hopefully I will have a shirt on.

Edtitcational Shirts

I look at women's boobs. It is a built in, DNA programmed reflex and I'm done fighting it. Knowing that guys will stare at a woman's chest, I thought it best that we make the most of it. So I created the Edtitcational Shirt Series: math and scientific formulas printed on t-shirts so that guys can learn while they yearn.


The Quadratic Equation


Pythagorean Identity

Click on a photo to order or go to www.skreened.com/holyjuan to see my whole collection of HolyJuan Brand T-shirts.

Additional Helpful H1N1 Health Hints from the CDC

The CDC has published updated guidelines for avoiding the H1N1. In order to keep yourself and your loved ones healthy, you'll need to do the following:

1. Continue and increase all ingestion of bacon, ham, pork loin, sausage and pork rinds (except for Canadian Bacon - no one really knows what's in that, anyhow). Increasing your consumption will additionally help stave off the insidious effects of vegetarianism.

2. Throw out (preferably burn) all copies of Charlotte's Web books, VHS tapes, books-on-tape or 20th anniversary commemorative talking LP records to ensure no second-hand "Some pig!" H1N1 contagion.

3. Get an H1N1 flu shot vaccine. Note that you may have to disguise yourself as a 14-year-old unwed pregnant girl to ensure that you move to the top of the flu-shot priority queue. This will not be a problem in the Mid-West.

4. Start freebasing Airborne, Zicam, Sudafed, Centrum and Valtrex to maximize your immune system's efficacy in warding off disease. In a pinch, mix 1 tsp sugar with a glass of water. It works equally as well.

5. Up the ante - why wash your hands, when you can solder them clean? Note that solder gun and silver solder are not insurance-approved items eligible for year-end deduction.

6. Rent The Boy in the Bubble, starring John Travolta, and build your own hermetically-sealed mobile quarantine immunity dome. (Note: Conversion to Scientology is not necessary, though it is a well-known fact that Operating Thetans are immune to every disease and illness except gravity. And skepticism.)

7. Remember that alcohol kills germs - imbibe copious quantities of Wild Turkey, Grey Goose and Jim Beam before and during working hours. When co-workers discuss immunizations, tell them that you've had a shot and will have several more before the day is through.

8. Have sex with a nurse or doctor. H1N1 cannot be passed through sexual contact, and this will build up your resistance. Just remember, no kissing; it's too personal. You stay numb, you don't get involved.

9. Watch "Deliverance" up until the "squeal like a pig" scene. Turn off your televsion, put on your Ned Beatty pajamas and curl up on a cold concrete floor for the night. Torn rectum is optional.

10. Get it over with. Why avoid the inevitable? Lick door knobs and keyboards. Stand at the bus stop have the children rub their snot-encased forearms against your nose and mouth. Dumpster diving at the doctors office is not uncommon for the desperate. Find yourself a nice Ayn Rand book or congressional Health Care bill and rest for the next six days. You've earned it!

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