Three years ago, Dan Coleman shot his girlfriend’s sister point-blank in the face with a .38. She died that night, and within a week, he was charged with first-degree murder. And so it is more than a little odd that Dan Coleman is now having lunch at Macayo’s in downtown…
“Don’t portray us as a bunch of wackos,” 9/11 “truth” activist Kent Knudson warned this Walter Winchell of warblers during a recent interview. “We have our facts. We have evidence. We have witnesses. The government has nothing.” Nothing but, like, some science ‘n’ stuff. Knudson’s one of the main wacktivists…
Grime Is the Word Times, they are a-changin’: New Times, you really know how to ruin my day! First I read longtime investigative reporter John Dougherty’s piece about how he will no longer be turning over rocks and looking under them in Phoenix (“Vaya Con Dios,” August 31), and then…
My gabacha friends and I marched in the May pro-amnesty rallies and wanted to show our support on our chests as well as our feet. We wore tee shirts that read, “I only (picture of big, juicy lips) mojados” on the front, and “Yo solo (lips) mojados” on the back…
“They killed Malcolm, Martin, Guevara, Lennon, Marley, Pac, Biggie, Tookie, Jam Master Jay, John F. Kennedy, Bobby Kennedy, Fred Hampton, Huey Newton, and even God’s son too/So fuck the Bible, I get my basic instruction from Sun Tzu.” Onstage at the infamous Club Congress in Tucson last April, a DJ…
The Bird chortled its freakin’ tail feathers off the other day watching Arizona’s daily press get played like a $2 harmonica by billionaire hucksters Peter and Harry Morton, and their PR butt boy Jason Rose, who by now should have about the same aura of believability as the kid who…
We set off minutes after dawn to begin our descent down the North Kaibab Trail and into the depths of the Grand Canyon. I have lived in Arizona for 32 years and never hiked to the bottom of the canyon, let alone rim-to-rim. Now was the time — in the…
I heard that Mexicans at an Orange County candy factory think they saw the Virgin Mary in a pile of melted chocolate. Why do Mexicans always see the Virgin Mary in the stupidest things? Non-Believer Beaner Dear Wab: It’s not just Mexicans who find the Holy Mother in weird places…
Kvetching About J.D. Admiring Ford: I’m certainly no fan of Congressman J.D. Hayworth. I hope that he gets unseated in the next election, for sure! But I couldn’t agree more with The Bird when he called out the Jewish News of Greater Phoenix for blasting Hayworth’s admiration of Henry Ford…
What the Flock Acting the part: Capstone Cathedral’s former pastor Neal Frisby was never a pastor to his congregation (“The Frisby Legacy,” Sarah Fenske, August 17). He would just show movies of himself and keep the church dark so no one could read the Bible or check him in a…
On a Saturday night in mid-July, the Paper Heart is in a groovy time warp. Tonight is the second evening of a special two-day celebration of Russ Meyer’s 1970 cult classic movie Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, which chronicles the chaotic rise and fall of a fictional female rock…
So I’m minding my own business, lounging in my triple-XL Underoos, crunchin’ on a big bowl of Cocoa Puffs and watching a rerun of the Squidbillies that I’d taped off Adult Swim, when the PHX’s Zooey Deschanel checks in with me via land line. “Hey, Kreme, whatcha doin’?” queries the…
What’s with Mexican-Americans who live in New Mexico claiming they’re Spanish and not Mexican? Many actually get angry and combative if you ask them if they’re Mexican. But if you look at them, they look more Indian than Spanish! Why have so many developed a deep-seated embarrassment of who they…
Veteran New Times staff writer John Dougherty has resigned to chase his muse. Dougherty, who is writing a farewell column to be published in the August 31 issue of this publication, has decided to travel around the West searching for book ideas. After 14 years as a writer and columnist…
Owning a home is the American dream, but Arizona’s version has turned into a nightmare for hundreds of people who bought shiny new houses, only to discover that the floor is literally coming out from under them. The reason: soil problems. However, as our series “Cracked Houses” revealed, not all…
Is Congressman J.D. Hayworth a boob or an anti-Semite? This rascally warbler knows there’s beaucoup evidence of the former, from J.D.’s days of almost starting fistfights on the House floor and reading lame-o Top 10 lists into the Congressional Record, to his embroilment in the Jack Abramoff scandal or his…
Why do Mexicans forget about great beers like Tecate, Negra Modelo, and Bohemia and start drinking swill like Bud Light when they come to the United States? I always remember John Steinbeck’s immortal line — “Ah, Bohemia beer and the Pyramid of the Sun; entire civilizations have created less” —…
Memorial Daze A necessary reminder: I can’t believe the ignorance of New Times readers like Conner Young regarding what happened to us on September 11, 2001 (“Shameless Exploitation,” Letters, August 10). To say that we don’t need another memorial to the people who died on that day at the World…
When the most famous evangelist in Arizona history died last year, his will decreed that his estate be split evenly among his five sons. But there was practically nothing left to split. Neal Frisby — the guy on TV in the ’80s, preaching the Gospel “from Phoenix, Arizona, under the…
I’m chillaxing at the bar in the revamped and newly het-friendly lez club known as The Biz, formerly Ain’t Nobody’s Bizness, which up until recently mostly served the mulletcore of the PHX’s lesbian community. Beside me is a phatty who, despite her roundness, is good enough to do. Except that…
My July 20 column advising Enamorada Gabacha to improve her relationship with the Mexican who invaded her heart by giving him “an old-school blowjob” drew many letters — starting with Gabacha in Love herself: Well of course I thought of a good old-school blowjob, silly. How do you think I…
Twenty-five very sweaty people stand facing themselves in a mirror, pushing their heads into their knees. Because this is Bikram yoga, the room is hot — easily 115 degrees, hotter than the July morning outside the central Phoenix studio. The room smells faintly of feet. The teacher, Brooke Sterling, moves…
