Earlier this week, the Tulsa World issued a scathing editorial – at least by their boring standards – criticizing Oklahoma commando congressman Markwayne Mullin for a letter he sent to constituents criticizing Jo Biden’s infrastructure plan.
The World’s outrage wasn’t that Markwayne wasted taxpayer money mailing a letter to a large number of people who can’t read, but that he had the audacity to spread lies and misinformation – two things that have become hallmarks of Markwayne’s reign as a congressman.
Via The Tulsa World:
A few days ago, esteemed TLO godhead Patrick texted me, telling me to add HeavenLee BBQ, 8601 NE 36th in Spencer, to my restaurant list. Even though I just had Puerto Rican food in that underrated burg, I told him that I definitely would, as I am an obsessive fool about the charred meats of a godly barbeque joint.
I don’t know how he heard about it, but I’m darn glad he did.
I headed out there this past weekend, finding a refurbished drive-in eatery with a screened patio where my friend and I immediately found a place to sit and pray. They were busy, filling orders before the football game, but still found plenty of time to not only say hello to us, but bring us a couple of drinks and take our orders, as I already knew what I wanted…what I needed: Rib Tips and Brisket Burnt Ends.
Wackson-Jackson Lahmeyer’s emulation of Donald Trump is starting to go too far!
Last week, The Norman Transcript reported that the aspiring alt-right US Senate candidate recently violated some campaign finance laws. Surprisingly, none of them have to do with him peddling vaccine exemption cards in exchange for tax-free “donations” to his campai… errrr…. church.
Here are the details via The Transcript:
The last time I lived in Elk City, America was the summer of 2011. I was 19-years-old and my only responsibilities were…
1. Washing my own laundry, and
2. Making sure I didn’t stay out too late past my closing shift at Flix on 6 Movie Theater that I overslept through my opening shift at the coffee shop on Main Street.
With an inflated sense of self-confidence, optimism, and general know-it-all attitude that only the freshman year of college could bring, I was restlessly counting down the days until I could return to my “home” in an OSU dorm and get the hell out of my hometown.
It’s hard to believe it’s been more than ten years since I’ve lived in Elk City, especially since the closet in my old bedroom at my parents’ house still has the slight salty smell of “Flavocol” movie theater popcorn butter from housing my old work pants for so many years.
This past weekend, I took my husband for a stroll down memory lane and a drive 109 miles out west on I-40 to visit my hometown and take part in my favorite annual festivity: The Elk City Historical Society Flea Market.