Betcha Didn't Know

In DFW airport, on my way back to DC from Texas, I swayed back and forth between purchasing a copy of Freakonomics or the latest Texas Monthly to pass the flight delay. I opted for the Monthly, a gesture of optimism that the delay would be only magazine-sized. (Side note: the website of the Texas Monthly is subtitled "The National Magazine of Texas" which makes me very happy.)

And let me tell you, that little rag is chock-full of very useful information. Por ejemplo, as we say on the border, had it not been for the Texas Monthly, the two-month old story of Governor Rick Perry calling a reporter a "Mofo" might have passed me by. Mofo! Oh, Rick! You're such a potty mouth!

Furthermore, I might have died without ever knowing that there exists a little Country Inn in Snook, TX that will happily serve you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, a side of chicken-fried bacon. With cream gravy. Says the intrepid Monthly reporter who canvassed the state in search of chicken-fried foods (and discovered chicken-fried foie gras, chicken-fried french fries, and chicken-fried lobster to name a few), "The moment when the crackle of the crust gives way to the fatty, salty taste of the pork is truly transcendent." Am so on board.

Finally, you wouldn't generally look to a Texas magazine to get the skinny on the Boston Red Sox, but the Monthly comes through again with this scathing expose: Curt Schilling is a Nerd. (It appears somebody PDFd the article here). Written by a UT Senior, the article reveals that Curt Schilling and said Texas student share the honors of being chosen as officers in their EverQuest guild. Curt even handed out tickets to a Red Sox/Rangers series to this kid, and signed a baseball with his EverQuest character name.

Here's how the article closes:

We still talk online every day, about EverQuest strategy, recruiting new players—you know, top-secret officer chat. When he screws up, I'll call him a newb. I'll ask about his baseball injuries, or we'll talk about how the Red Sox did that night. Once, our EverQuest guild was on a raid in a level called the Temple of Cazic-Thule, and we were trying to get this poisonous dragon. It got pretty dangerous, but then it looked like we might pull it off, so I said, "Well, after we win, y'all can come over to my place for margaritas." Of course everyone said, "Yeah, where do you live?" I said Texas. And Curt told them, "Yeah, and if you're looking for him, he's the one who's five six and about a hundred and twenty-nine pounds soaking wet."

Sure, Curt. Let him who is without guild credentials cast the first stone.