Chron reporter and friend of Houstonia Gwen Howerton covered a pee-utiful moment in state politics: an elephant, paraded out at a downtown Republican convention centering Governor Greg Abbott’s re-election campaign and unleashed an appropriately elephant-sized stream of wee-wee right there on the George R. Brown Convention Center’s floor. The internet, being what it is, immediately had a field day over the pachyderm’s prescient pattering on the state of politics today; though it’s actually the result of a large, intelligent, and sensitive animal not made for human crowds or cacophony, like being trapped in a claustrophobic space and forced to perform. You know, the same reason why Barnum and Bailey stopped including elephants in its circus act—and why many zoos across the country are not replenishing their elephant exhibits as their herds die off. Some creatures just weren’t meant for human interaction (honestly, we get it).

Hopefully, Abbott’s opponent, Democratic nominee and Texas Rep. Gina Hinojosa, won’t incorporate a live donkey into any of her events. But if there’s one thing we know, it’s to never underestimate the weirdness of Texas politicians.

Wanna feel mad today? Wanna feel really, really mad? Well, direct that anger toward David T. Brown, a local man accused of selling fake disability accessibility placards for Houstonians to hang on their car rearview mirrors. According to Houston Public Media, Brown allegedly used social media to advertise his services and charged people $150 to fill out driver’s license numbers and contact information on blank placards. He was arrested on June 2 and faces felony charges for tampering with government documents. Good.

Ask anyone with invisible disabilities why these fake disability placards are such a big deal. They struggle enough with not being believed when requesting accessibility measures. The more able-bodied people play make-believe because god forbid they walk a few extra feet to pick up a rotisserie chicken at H-E-B, the harder they make it for actual disabled people to get around. Don’t be a jerk. If you’re not disabled, park in a normal spot. We could all use the extra exercise anyway.

Traveling out of the country is expensive these days. But, if nothing else, at least Houstonians don’t have to go far to experience Stonehenge. Or, at least, a uniquely Gulf Coast facsimile of Stonehenge.

A recent Chron article noted that the Margaritaville resort slated for construction in Galveston since 2024 has become something of a local attraction—and not for the reasons the developers intended. Construction on the proposed property has been halted due to a failure to obtain the necessary wildlife permits, but in March, neighbors noticed that several dozen concrete pillars had been arranged across the 63-acre plot, seemingly overnight. Galvestonians have joked that it resembles England’s famed Bronze Age monument, albeit with fewer sheep (probably because of all the resident ghost wolves).

The media has yet to confirm whether the structure aligns with the winter solstice sunset and summer solstice sunrise, but we all remain eagle-eyed for updates on this very important story.

The not-so-aptly named Iron Shark roller coaster at Galveston’s Pleasure Pier lost all its teeth in late May when it broke down and stranded eight middle school- and high school-aged HISD students 105 feet off the ground. According to KHOU, it took firefighters three-and-a-half hours to complete the rescue and ensure everyone was brought back down safely.

Now, while this story sounds like something straight out of a disaster movie, paradoxically, it proves Iron Shark was working as intended. A malfunction was detected, and the roller coaster is designed to shut down at the next safest spot to allow rescues.

Ah, Turkey Leg Hut. No stranger to finding itself in Only in Houston, it’s the gift that keeps on giving to weird local news roundups, but also the gift that keeps on taking from the city itself. They had a good thing going! And then they had to go and ruin it with all that drama and crime! And now we can’t eat there anymore! At this point, they’ve become the Pusch and Nguyen of Houston restaurants.

Anyway, when we last left our not-exactly-heroes, former owner Lynn Price was accused of firebombing a rival business, Bar 5015, in 2020. He’s since pleaded guilty to federal conspiracy to commit arson charges, along with four other men in his employ. Turns out, he paid them a pittance of only $1,400 to do the felonious deed, so let’s go ahead and add grossly undercutting his accomplices to the list of crimes, too.