October 13th, 2010
In 6 Words: Passionate, Courteous, Self-deprecating, Jovial, Magnanimous, Houstonians
Paul grew up in the Northeast in a suburb of Philadelphia, but became a man in Houston. Thank you, [redacted], for the memories. As he honed his hobby in the smoke-filled coffee shops on Westheimer, Paul seemed to like the idea of being a writer more than the process itself. He called himself a poser, broke his Mont Blanc over his knee and burned all of his scribble filled notebooks. He crawled into a bottle of Bourbon where he found a pencil and a cocktail napkin. When he emerged the truth was quite clear: Paul needed to find a place to write about what he knew. That’s when The Loop Scoop found him. Battered and worn, using a curb as a pillow, The Loop Scoop picked Paul up and asked him to write about bars, restaurants, concerts and the eventual robot uprising. Offers like that don’t come along everyday, so he asked to sleep on it, but decided to write a mini-biography in third person for the website anyway.
Unrelated: 3AM Drives around 610, Hemingway, Music Licensing, Street Art, Kickball, Inferiority Complexes, High School Grudges, Lurking in Coffee Shops, Bukowski, Buying too Much Music to Listen To, Rainbows, Puppies and Scotch
Shortly after coming of age amongst the strip malls of the Houston suburbs, Sarah stopped being polite and started getting real. She laid a red bandana on her bedroom floor and placed a diary, Appetite for Destruction poster, and a Taco Bell double decker inside. She tied it up, wrapped it around her hobo stick and hit the road for the Hill Country. A one-way ticket to NYC a few years later brought her a suitcase full of stories and sharpened her skills in: creatively sharing a 300-square-foot space, hating the cold, and avoiding moderation. Sarah eventually waved her white flag and took a knee in Texas. Soon she popped the hobo stick back on her shoulder. This time she hitched a ride to Seattle. Almost every day she emailed the sun and begged him to come back to her. He wrote her back and said he was busy but to maybe try an organic smoothie in his place. “But I miss you,” she said, “and I miss Mexican food.” His next email to her merely said “unsubscribe,” but she was undeterred. She found him—oh, did she ever—and now she rarely lets him out of her sight. Today she can be found toiling in various Microsoft products during the day and not answering the phone during American Idol at night.
Unrelated: hibernating, more red wine please, Salinger, processed cheese, abbreviated and/or made-up words, talking with hands, Dickens, two limes, unhealthy relationship with coffee, I mean…, paper calendars, and music that makes hips not lie.
After doing a stint for the first four years of his life on a ranch in Richmond, Texas, Stephan spent the formative years of his youth in Sugar Land before becoming a pirate in the Mike Leach navy at Texas Tech University. Somehow the oil barons found him there and recruited him to do their bidding until he escaped and returned to Houston. He has a geek’s instincts with a chef’s taste buds. Most of his time is now devoted to finding ways to make the airlines pay for his travel and so far he’s been very successful.
Unrelated: Tacos, pointing out stupid drivers, flying, and nerd
Employed in a factory that made clothes for Kathy Lee Gifford’s clothing line as a child, Marc learned the value of hard work penny by penny. Unfortunately, all those lessons were forgotten once he made his way to college and discovered Lone Star beer. A decade later, he got a degree in Religious Studies and started the wildly popular religion, Marcism . His church, which convenes in the bathroom of the former Compaq Center, might not be as popular or successful as the former Compaq Center’s other tenant, but it’s leader doesn’t feel envious of their success. In addition to his Jason Priestly duties, he washes dishes in a High School Cafeteria to make ends meet. While he hasn’t always lived in Houston, many of his previous lives were spent in and around the gulf coast, so his soul is comfortable in it’s confines. He is currently working on his Karma and hopes to be reincarnated as something nice. Since English is his second language, Paul was gracious enough to allow him to serve as editor in order to receive continuing education credits. He cites the Swedish Chef and swedish fish as some of the most influential things in his life. He once pooped in a swimming pool, but doesn’t like to tell people about it.
Unrelated: People that aren’t a part of his family
Besides the mass stockpiling of semiautomatic weapons in his backwoods compound (That’s a joke, ATF), Tea’s just like any other kid from the country that transplanted himself into the Houston scene. Delusions of bringing back the great, southern novel without running off to New York or Los Angeles for validation have led him to the Bayou City. As quick as he is to bum a cigarette or flirt with your sister, he’s also the first to pour you a whiskey and charm your mother. Between hell-bound karaoke nights and jokes to make a sailor blush, Tea would love nothing more than to spin you a yarn too great to have happened yet. What better place than The Loop Scoop? He doesn’t always write what he knows, but he’ll make you believe it’s gospel if you’ve got the time and an extra smoke. Also dwells in a limbo of hyperbole.
Unrelated: Fishing, Twain, taco connoisseur, Maggie, football, SHOTS!!!, colors, where are our generation’s love letters, illegal downloads, fulfillment searching, sunshine, puppies, death metal, I’m your huckleberry, and go-carts
Richard grew up in the Houston area, when at age of 14 he went to clown school to pursue a career in sales. Learning after two semesters that he wasn’t fit for the circus arts, that and his competition with the bearded lady would never amount to a win for him as he can’t grow more than peach fuzz, he packed up his polka dot bag of tricks and swam to England. During his time there, he visited the ancient monoliths at Stonehenge and lived amongst the peoples currently calling that site home. Inspired by their hand prints and cave paintings he decided that creating beautiful art had been the calling he’d missed out on. It wasn’t long before his art exploded in Europe, and as the time lapse between the Euros and ‘Mericans goes, that art eventually spilled onto his native soil 10 years later. Upon explaining his high art in the depths of Valhalla, he was overheard by a young Paul, preaching of revolution–it’s name, The Loop Scoop. After a few too many snakebites at the Big Top, Richard agreed to paint pictures for The Loop Scoop and settle his wandering art exhibit to the under side of the Baytown Bridge.
Unrelated: Indiana Jones, Tombstone, basic quantum physics and the possibility of time travel, immersion in typeface design, smoked brisket, Warsteiner Dunkel, running, Bob Schneider, history, Ian Fleming, and back-to-back episodes of Lost