I used to drive down to this place, Wacko Soap Plant. Half was an establishment of trinkets, gizmos, novelties, candy, and literature for the counterculturists, bizzaro space humanoids, and Patton Oswalt (because I saw him there). The other half is an art gallery of an even stranger variety [see above pictures]. This place is sick. There’s not a nanometer of free space; all nooks and crannies are jam packed. And jelly filled?