One Man. One guitar. No Prisoners. Someone refurbished a toilet and called it The Coconut Teaszer. Someone else painted it throbbing purple (or screaming lilac), and if it weren’t for the mid-80s explosion of Rock and Metal and Bouffant ‘do’s, the Teaszer probably would have met its justifiable end as a high-rent ghetto apartment complex, being unjustifiably in the heart … Read More