It seems the folks in Congress have finally taken a break from hollerin’ at one another and passed a bill that even a Missouri mule might call sensible. Senator Jacky Rosen hitched her name to a fresh piece of law aimed at the worst kind of mischief the modern world’s cooked up–false and lewd images…

Now, I don’t pretend to be a lawyer, a sheriff, or a Texas man with an unspellable first name, but I do know the smell of cow pies when the wind shifts–and friends, something peculiar’s driftin’ over from Storey County. They’d rather eat their badges than speak plainly when the subject’s has a darker shade…

Well now, gather ‘round and let me spin you a yarn that smells more of brimstone than frankincense—a cautionary tale from the great American desert where salvation was for sale, and the Devil took debit. It appears one Pastor Regina Brice, a woman of the cloth—or at least a woman frequently seen near cloth—was sentenced…

Being no stranger to human folly, having seen men trade gold for gravel and trust a painted sign more than their mother—but even I must tip my hat to the gall of one Miss Barbara Trickle, aged eighty, of Las Vegas. The venerable fraudstress, who should’ve been enjoying her dotage sipping tea and scolding squirrels,…

Here’s an example of two bureaucracies shaking hands across a barbed wire fence as Governor Joe Lombardo and the Bureau of Land Management work like two old mules who finally agreed on what direction to plow. It appears the Governor, a gentleman with a keen eye on Nevada’s dusty horizon, has gone and inked what…

There’s always one in every class—the fella who fusses when the teacher tries to bring a little order to the room. In this case, the class clown is none other than Nevada’s Attorney General Aaron Ford, who, instead of thanking the Trump administration for finally putting reins on runaway ideological programs in our schools, decided…

Now, friends, I don’t reckon I’ve ever seen six grown men grin so wide for a photograph that wound up aging worse than a milk jug on a July windowsill. Back in the frost-bitten days of December 2020, six Republican gentlepersons from Nevada put on their Sunday best, marched themselves in like they’s starring in…

Let me start by saying that I am, by most measurable standards, a relatively stable individual. I sort my recycling. I pay my taxes early–because fear is a powerful motivator–and I have never once licked a streetlamp in winter–despite several compelling dares. But I also have PTSD, severe depression, manic depression. It’s not loud—the sort…

Now, I’m no stranger to schemes dressed up as progress, nor am I blind to the kind of arithmetic that makes a man pay twice for the same stretch of dirt. Come May 7th at six o’clock sharp, over at the Spanish Springs Library, a gathering of fine folk—Washoe County officials and the Spanish Springs…

They’ve finally brought down the old Reno Police Department headquarters on East 2nd Street, a building so long abandoned it might’ve qualified for sainthood had it stood much longer without plumbing. The City Council, ever eager to swing a wrecking ball at anything with memories or masonry, gave the nod earlier this year to have…