A Brady woman isn't sure her new relationship will survive a fundamental disagreement about the weather.
A Houston woman wants to know why the fine folks in Granger just won't leave her alone.
A man from the Sooner State has a question about the other Red River Rivalry.
A Kansas woman is puzzled by some recent data about the Volunteer State and the Lone Star State.
A West Texas man seems to be tired of living on Mountain Standard Time.
The recent, terrifying events in Washington have an Austin man wondering about mayhem closer to home.
An Austin man is skeptical that a company held by a Chicago investment firm can claim that distinction.
A Belfast woman is looking for a few good corn husks.
A Portland man is confused by the Menger Hotel's and Excelsior House Hotel's dueling claims. The Texanist is, too.
Returning to my devastated hometown, I found my friends and family putting on a brave face in the aftermath of Hurricane Harvey.
Texas football made the former ’Friday Night Lights’ actor a heartthrob. Will a Texas tragedy make him a bona fide star in 'Waco'?
A Houston metal act that was supposed to be the next Guns n’ Roses—and got squashed by Nirvana instead—is hoping that a quarter of a century later it’ll finally get its big break.
Now it’s Woody Harrelson’s turn to play our thirty-sixth president on-screen. Why can’t we get enough of a man once regarded as utterly devoid of glamour?
In 1926 Etta Randall, a young black woman from deep East Texas, set off for a lawless boomtown in the Panhandle, where she found unexpected success not in the oil fields but in an old concrete pit.
Two books from Texas authors chronicle the investigation of a Zeta commander who laundered millions of dollars in drug profits through the intense world of American quarter-horse racing.
"When I returned to Port Aransas during my last year of medical school, I began to look at my hometown through an entirely different lens."
Pronghorn were almost perfectly fitted to the West Texas landscape. And then people started building fences.
Getting to the bottom of the baffling backstory of Lubbock’s legendary lemony libation—one refreshing sip at a time.
An Austin church remakes Catholicism without the Pope, celibate priests, or most of the other rules.
Me and my skimboarding guru.
Sure, I’d polished my résumé, made the right grades, and kept up with current events. But did I deserve one of the most prestigious scholarships in the world if I wanted it for all the wrong reasons?