Posts Tagged Capt. Buttface


Buttface & Me on Harleys

We were “over” Waco, Capt. Buttface and I. Well, actually, me more than Buttface. I hated Waco with a black passion. Buttface was simply ready to move on. Our grand plan was to buy Harleys and travel across America in 1981 or 1982.

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30 Years Later — Remembering the Horrific Triple Murder at Lake Waco

WARNING – THIS IS A SERIOUS POST If I think about Waco for any amount of time, dark memories come flooding back, especially about the murder of three teenagers at Lake Waco. The first time I ever felt the presence of evil, I was snooping around Koehne Park, wondering if there really was a crime […]

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Capt. Buttface and Waco’s Pink House

Capt. Buttface lived in a Pink House. It was owned by Mr. Finn, who was not really a slumlord per se, but close enough for Waco, Texas. The Finn House was an old, two-story wooden affair. It was near enough to the county hospital that you could always hear the sirens. And it was close […]

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Pool Hustling in Austin With Capt. Buttface

If you’ve never been in Waco, Texas for an extended period, you cannot grasp the urgent need to flee. To flee the heat and humidity and cockroaches and bad newspapers and suffocating blanket of failure. To just get in the car and drive. And in 1982, that meant we: 1) Put $10 of gas in […]

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Capt. Buttface and Stinky Green David

We previously told the a tale of a fateful trip, that started from this tropic port, aboard this tiny ship. WAIT. Sorry. Wrong mental tape. THIS is the previous tale we told – Capt. Buttface and the Lake Waco Moon Cricket. And this is the sequel… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ People who make their living at boat docks […]

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Fear and Loathing in Waco

“When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.” — Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, Gonzo Journalist   You cannot imagine how important the good doctor was to me 30 years ago. After a mind-numbing night shift at the Waco Trivial-Herald, covering “TNDs and misdemeanor murders”, I’d limp home to my cockroach-infested apartment, drink mass quantities […]

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Capt. Buttface and the Lake Waco Moon Cricket

Call me Ishmael. Put Muddy Waters on the stereo. Throw in about 900 cases of Pearl beer, Lake Waco, and the yellow Moon Cricket. And our sailing story can begin. It was the early 1980s, and I was the new $185-a-week, night-side police reporter for the Waco Tribune-Herald.

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