Author Archives: Mark Dent

Keep Fuel City (Somewhat) Underground

The best tacos in Texas and possibly the best in the United States because Texas probably has the best Mexican food in the country (just guessing) are served at a Dallas gas station underneath a highway and nestled in a region that contains four liquor stores within two square blocks, along with a drive-thru daiquiri store. The place is called Fuel City and its tacos are authentic Mexican. And they are the best.

This is not some assertion I have blindly tossed into the blogosphere as though my words were medieval flaming arrows peppered with significance. They lack all of those ingredients. But people with authority have made similar comments. In 2006, Texas Monthly’s food editor called the picadillo taco the best in the state. This matters quite a bit. Many Texans believe in only three printed publications: the bible, Texas Monthly and any jumble of written words that bashes the Koran. So, yes, Texas Monthy writing to the state’s residents about tacos is akin to Paul penning a letter to the Philippians – IT’S NOT TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY. Continue reading

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The Procrastinator’s Guide to the NCAA Tournament Bracket

I used to study the NCAA Tournament bracket like it was the back of a cereal box and I was extremely bored while eating Fruity Pebbles. My dad would print several out at his office the Monday after the selections and then I could spend the next two and a half days, erasing and erasing and erasing, changing my mind again and again because I never could quite decide whether I should pick St. Bonaventure to beat Kentucky in the 2000 first round.

Now I’m in the real world, which means I have to provide, have to make a living so I can afford to buy vital necessities such as chocolate milk. Ipso facto,* I don’t have very much time on my hands, and I can no longer properly produce an NCAA Tournament bracket. I can, though, stay awake past midnight the day the tournament starts and make my picks and live blog about them to an audience that is only slightly larger than one that would pay to see a St. Bonaventure-Kentucky matchup. Continue reading

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Unsolicited Endorsements XVIII

Comedy Crush: Aubrey Plaza

Tom Haverford is my favorite character on Parks and Recreation. This has to be the case because Aziz Ansari is currently the funniest person on the planet. But lately, I haven’t been able to get enough of April, of Aubrey Plaza, especially after I found her user name on YouTube.* Continue reading

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Portlaustina

I travel to Austin for work.* I travel there quite a bit and sometimes for rather long periods of time. Last May, for instance, I drove to Austin on a Sunday night, my car’s engine heaving like an 18th century settler with the whooping cough, and didn’t return until the next Sunday, my car’s engine purring like an 18th century house cat. In this period of time, I took my car, obviously, to a mechanic, who was actually a junkyard operator on the side of the road who was VERY helpful; visited the gorgeous Mount Bonnell; drank heavily on Sixth Street twice (Dirty Sixth, of course); ran on the path bordering the Colorado River; knocked down a few construction signs on a Friday night walk back to the hotel; witnessed a friend order two large pizzas at 2:15 a.m. only to leave the restaurant and eat none of the paid-for pizzas; and visited the state capitol. I also worked for six consecutive days.

*I’m actually here right now!

So as you might guess, I have become closely acquainted with the city. Continue reading

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You! Me! DANCING!

If there’s one thing I could never confess it’s that I can’t dance a single step – Los Campesinos

At this coffee shop I’m inhabiting, I overhear two women in the corner, chatting with each other, me picking up only the words, “dancing,” “dancing,” as they watch some sort of video on an Apple laptop that I can only assume features someone, possibly them, dancing. They aren’t talking obnoxiously loud or playing their video at a high volume. No, they are not weirdos. I am. I am clearly eavesdropping like the creepity-creepster that I apparently am. But I creeped (crept?) for a reason, and that is because I was just starting to write this blog that is purely about dancing. Continue reading

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The Watcher

Paul Rudd: “I quit wearing a watch when I moved out here”

Jason Segel: “That is so cool”

Paul Rudd: “My cell phone has a clock so I don’t need it.”

I was always a watch person, dating back to at least kindergarten or preschool, when I asked for a Mickey Mouse watch, the kind that featured a picture of Mickey in the background and his two arms as the indicators of the hour and time. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t even read time in a non-digital fashion at this point in my life. But I liked Mickey. Continue reading

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Walk The Line

Last week, I went to a wonderful Calvin Harris concert at a club in Dallas called Zouk. As pretentious establishments are wont to do, Zouk* decided to create artificial demand for its resources by forcing consumers to wait in a line even though it was actually empty inside. Economists refer to this particular manipulation of the free market as douchebaggery. Continue reading

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Center Stage

“Have you ever entered an empty stadium? Try It.” – Eduardo Galeano from Soccer In Sun and Shadow

 *****

The woman working at the ticket office tells me I can come in, opening the one door from the inside that isn’t barred shut. “There won’t be any lights on,” she says.

I walk into Texas Hall, a place I’d never heard of until perhaps two or three days earlier when my editor assigned me the job of writing about UT-Arlington’s new arena, known as the College Park Center. It is replacing Texas Hall had been UT-Arlington’s home since 1965. It is a theater, not a gym, but the basketball team has played there, on center stage, on a portable basketball court. The team performed where Louie Armstrong played jazz, where Jerry Seinfeld joked, where Ludacris rapped. Continue reading

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For Some Reason I Am Writing About the Meaning of Gavin DeGraw’s “Not Over You”

I like “Not Over You.” I also like Gavin DeGraw’s song “I Don’t Want To Be.” Confessing preferential taste for such songs may be akin to wearing a salmon colored shirt (I kind of want to buy one of those, actually), but I don’t really care. That is not the point of this post anyway. I just want to discuss and dissect the insanity and inanity of one certain lyric in this song. Maybe you know which one I’m talking about it.

First, context. “Not Over You” explains itself in the title. Gavin is not over someone, a female someone, a presumed ex-girlfriend who dumped him. Given this circumstance, one would think Gavin would be trying to move on. And he is. He sings that he is telling people he is doing “just fine,” that said ex-gf is not on his mind. Until…here comes the lyric:

“But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two. And finally I’m forced to face the truth. No matter what I say – I’m not over you.” Continue reading

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Changing Phones

I call this picture the Congressman’s Delight, or more accurately an ode to Chris Lee’s Jackass Decision. For him, this creepster bathroom mirror reflection photo, was used to lure a woman through CraigsList while posing as a divorced lobbyist. For me, this creepster bathroom mirror reflection photo is confirmation that I have joined modern society technologically (though sartorially I am still blissfully trapped in the early 90s as you can tell by that radical orange). Continue reading

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