If he was asked what he did for a living, Roddy Dean Pippin would smile and say something about the cattle business. But he didn’t exactly buy and sell cows. He stole them. And right up until he was caught, he was as good as any such thief had ever been.
May 1, 2006 | by Skip Hollandsworth | Feature
A year of alarming art, befuddled bus drivers, crustacean confiscators, demanding donors, entomological eats, feckless felons, garbled George W., hideous headgear, inspirational ice cream, juiced journalists, KKK kiss-offs, Lubbock lampooners, mucho manure, nada nudity, oafish officials, P.O.’d policemen, quirky queens, raunchy Republicans, shapely sideburns, thanatological toys, used uniforms, vampire vanquishers, witless waiters, x-pert x-terminators, yeoman Yankees, and zany zealots.
January 1, 2001 | Feature