CSI: Podunkville

Hello, crimedogs. A while back I was stumped for blog ideas, and got the idea of telling you about some of the dastardly deeds that go on in this area, via the local newspaper's Police Blotter. I had so much fun doing it I turned it into a two-parter, and since then I've kept up with my reading.

Ready for more tales of this crime-ridden area of mine? Good. As always, I'm altering names and locations. For the protection of everyone.

BURGLARY: Dep. J.D. Egg responded to a burglary complaint on Saul Ploan Road, near Mville. Many areas of the residence had been disturbed, with items broken and out of place. Meat was thrown on the floor, and an egg appeared to have been thrown against the wall. Egg reported entry appeared to have been made through a side door.

There's a stunning deduction. An egg appeared to have been thrown against the wall. "Hey, this egg appears to have been thrown against the wall!" I see it as a final act of defiance - "And I don't like your egg, either!"

BREAKING AND ENTERING: Dep. D. Bill responded to Hobbie Road, where a complainant reported someone stole three saws from an outbuilding. The officer reported the part of the lock that was cut appeared to have been rusted also.

A needless crime. If they could cut the lock, they didn't need the saws. And how judgmental can the police be in this poor man's time of need? "Yeah, it's been cut. It's also rusted. And, you're ugly."

BREAKING AND ENTERING: Sgt. G.W. Tree filed a report from a Barrely man who reported someone broke into his outbuilding and stole a pressure washer. The officer reported the man produced the building lock, which appeared to have been cut.

But amazingly rust-free. Police are searching for the man who stole the saws. And who also has a large pile of firewood and the cleanest house in Barrely.

TELEPHONE HARASSMENT: Dep. Dawg received a complaint from a woman who stated a female voice had left three messages indicating: “I'm always watching you,” and “Your friends aren't who you think they are.” Further investigation was pending.

Fears subsided when it was discovered it was only Sting, trying to write a new hit song.

DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY: Cpl. Summer Winters filed a report from a man who said a male in a gray Buick followed him onto U.S. 19 and slammed into his vehicle several times before he was able to evade the assailant. Winters reported he saw the damage to the man's vehicle.

There's the kind of police action we like to see. "Yeah, I see the damage. Can I go now?"

FAILURE TO MEET SUPPORT FOR A MINOR: Cpl. J.J. Jay filed a report from a Palmetto, Fla., woman that her husband is behind more than $60,000 in child support. The payments date back to 1985.

I'm assuming the woman's husband lives in the area. I'd hate to think she's just calling every police department in America. Then again, that could be why she's still seeking child support for her now 24 year old.

BREACH OF PEACE: Ptlm. Gurgles and Ptlm. A. Fonzarelli responded to East Road, where a woman reported her son was tearing up the kitchen and throwing items around. Officers located Jeff Radcliffe, 38, of Peetown, allegedly in a highly intoxicated state. He was arrested on a charge of breach of peace.

Maybe it's just me, but if I'd have done that, even at age 38, screw the police. I'd have still been in line for a good old-fashioned butt-bustin', which would have been worse than an arrest.

GRAND LARCENY: Dep. G. Canyon responded to Boxed In Mobile Home Park, where a complainant reported that he suspected a female friend slipped something into his drink and stole a diamond ring, wedding band, a firearm and more from his residence. Charges were pending further investigation.

I smell a shotgun wedding!

BATTERY: Ptlm. Gurgles and Ptlm. A Fonzarelli responded to an altercation in progress at McDonald's on CowCow Drive. The complainant reported that she was physically assaulted by two female suspects over a salad that was not prepared to the customers' satisfaction. One of the suspects allegedly threw the salad, and the first punch, at the complainant. The parties were separated, and officers reported warrants were pending.

I love this entry dearly. Not only the mental image I get of someone dissatisfied enough with a McDonald's salad to toss it at a poor countergirl, but whoever wrote the complaint up, I want to marry. "One of the suspects allegedly threw the salad, and the first punch, at the complainant" - gold.

BURGLARY: Ptlm. J.D. Sheepbert responded to Horn Street, where a complainant reported someone broke into his apartment and stole a 37-inch television, pots and pans.

Police are on the lookout for a man watching the Food Channel.

PETIT LARCENY: Ptlm. FF Farkle received a call regarding a petit larceny report on County Street. The complainant reported an unknown male had come to his door and asked for change. The man allegedly took roughly $10 in change from his hands.

Now.... A man asks you for change, and you're standing there with change in your hands, I really don't see any reason to get the police involved. Sounds like contributor's remorse to me.

DONUTS: Drivers doing donuts (spins) in the city park’s lot were advised of their options. They left the parking lot. Cpl. Klinger investigated.

Those are some progressive policemen, just advising you of your optons. "Well, you can stop, or you could do figure eights instead, or you could grow up and get a job, or you could keep doing the donuts, or... ooh, donuts. Mmmmm."

Mmm, donuts indeed. I gotta go.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners! And look at the acroers who came out to play! So, what made those tracks in the snow in my back yard?
- Honorable Mentions go to the DeepFatFriar, with his "Deer and possum secretly courting," and Kellie (with an ie), with her "Daring Armadillo Pushing Snow Cart."
- Runner-Ups go to LSG (not LSD, but as entertaining), with her "Damn aristocrats purloining stimilus checks," and LilyG, with her "Dastardly armadillo, probably stoned, confused."
- And this week's winner is Mr Middlebrow, with his "Dingos Afoot, Probably Stealing Children."
- Thanks to all who played, you've all done very well! And when I say that, I truly mean it - when I pulled those letters last night I thought, "This will go nowhere." I was wrong. Thanks!

Acrochallenge!

Hello, lovers of letters, and welcome to another round of acromania.

Ahh, snow. What a joy to wake up in the morning and look out the window on a fresh blanket of snow.

However.

Something always seems to happen here, and I don't understand it. When I look out my kitchen window onto the fresh blanket of snow in my back yard, there always seems to be a line of tracks in it. Now, there are dogs next door but they're always in their pen. There used to be a cat next door, but it was an inside cat, and now that building is empty and condemned, awaiting destruction. There are no other animals in the neighborhood that roam.

Today I had two single lines of tracks, running parallel across the yard. It almost looked like a sled had gone by, but at one point right in between the two lines was my birdbath, so it couldn't have been a vehicle of any kind.

Tonight's acro? "What Makes The Tracks In The Snow In My Back Yard?"

All the other rules are the same. Everyone gets three entries to come up with the best acronym they can, one that matches not only the topic above, but also the letters below. The letters below are randomly drawn from the acrobasket. The acrobasket once got lost in the snow. He almost froze his "S" off. (OK, that was bad, I know.) Then tomorrow night at 10:00 est I shall be reading the entries and naming the winners.

The acro - "What Makes The Tracks In the Snow In My Back Yard?" The letters:

D A P S C

So there you go. Put on your winter coat and acro.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Finally, success! Head to the Comfy Chair!

Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders, and welcome to another Picture Sunday here in Betland.

My mom, aka Granny, got out of the hospital on Thursday and was feeling well enough that I thought I could take a weekend away. I needed a weekend away, and what better way to get one than to go Hackensawing.

Yes, The Hackensaw Boys were in B'burg on Friday night, at that place I normally hate going to, but, hey, they're 90 minutes away, what are you going to do? I went, and Mr M came along too. And yes, the sound was still just as horrible as ever, but lo and behold, I ended up having a really great time.

Mr M and I got there a little early and took a seat at the back of the club, and after about 20 minutes who should amble in but Paul and Martin, friends of the Dear Nephew. (Who was off being a frat boy Friday and didn't make it.) They were nice enough to let me hang with them for the show, and we made our way to the front of the stage and had a blast.

The Boys were in fine form, and the big news of the night was that they're finally starting work on a new album. They played about four new songs, all great, and now I'm stoked for a new Hackenrecord.

So, how about some pictures?

Well, here's Shawn banjoing it.





















And Shawn, Ferd, and Salvage.

























And almost everyone. When you're on the front row, you just can't fit everyone in.





















And here's a great Baby J picture out on the floor for the encore.

























Last night The Boys were in Johnson City, TN, at a place called Down Home. They were there back in the fall and I really wanted to go, but it was a Sauerkraut Band night so I had to miss it. I'd heard it was a great venue, and I was itching to check it out. So Friday night I decided that if I could get up, get home, get showered, and pack a bag in time, I was heading out for a second night. All that happened, and I ended up in Tennessee.

Down Home is a great place to see a show. It's tiny, which means there's not a bad seat in the house. It's mainly tables and chairs, but there were a few out of the way places to dance, which I did, and the sound was magnificent. I guess that happens when a place is owned by a musician, which this one is.

I'm really glad I went. It was more fun, more dancing, more music, and more seeing The Boys, who really are so nice. No one was taking pictures, so I left my camera (and Sherman) in the bag, but since Ferd actually said at one point that the band encouraged people to make videos and put them on You Tube, I thought I'd do just that. And so how about a little "FDR?"



That is some fine stuff right there. By the way, we were all OK. The title on the clip refers to the pre-song banter.

I still have a couple of other pictures, but I'm leaving it there for tonight. Can't top that excitement. I'll do a recipe next time, OK?

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* By the way, check over at the Comfy Chair Cinema. I'm trying to upload another video there, but on the second try it's still stuck. Keep checking back, though.
* And now I'm tired and sore, and still have to to trash duty and get my clothes ready for work tomorrow. Ahh, back to real life.

A Digital Short

Hello, blogees.

It's still a long week. My week started 9 days ago, and yes, that's a long week. Granny's still in the hospital, still in about the same shape, and I'm starting to be of a very foul demeanor. So let's leave that and go to a short story before I say goodnight.

As you all know, and if you don't, what rock have you been living under the past year, today was the day most television stations ditched their analog broadcasting and embraced the all-digital system. And those in the Rabbit Ear World better embrace it too, lest they not get to watch television again. I shudder to imagine it.

Anyway, today was that very special day for our local TV station. This morning I heard a long segment on the morning local news about it. It went like this, and I'm paraphrasing here, because my memory is still pretty good, but not that good.

"Today is the day we go to an all-digital broadcasting format. This will begin right after our noon news broadcast. If you are receiving us through an analog system, like a television antenna, you will not be able to receive our channel anymore after 12:30 pm. After the news, at 12:30, our first broadcast will be a half-hour show telling you all about how to hook up your digital box to your television, and where you can buy a digital box if you don't already have one."

Now....

Yes, I was confused the rest of the day, too.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* I'm tired. Olympically tired.

Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders, and welcome to another round of Picture Sunday.

As you know, my mom, aka Granny, has been in the hospital since Monday. It was determined she needed gall bladder surgery. That happened Friday, and she came through it very well, much better than I expected. She was moved out of intensive care last night, and when I visited today I visited a real room.

Mr M came down yesterday and we went to visit Granny. As we were walking in, he noticed a couple of things about our hospital here in town, one that I had also noticed, and one that had completely escaped me.

The first one was this sticker on the door leading into the side of the hospital. I guess only in this area does this need to be posted as information to the public.




















So remember, folks, if you go visit my mom before she gets out of stir, leave your gun in the car.

The thing I hadn't noticed before was a closed door in the hallway inside the hospital.




















Well, at least they're honest about it. Maybe I need a sign like that on the front door of the Poderosa.

Next we have a picture of Huckleberry Hound, who's been keeping Granny company in the hospital. As you know, Huck is the official hospital companion, going to stay with anyone in our family unlucky enough to end up there.

I have to tell you a story first. On Friday after the surgery, when we got the word that Granny was back in her little area in intensive care, we went in to see her. She's just been moved back. I said hello, she was already pretty alert, then I looked around for Huckie. He was on a nightstand in the corner of the room, and he was laying on his side with his front to the wall.

I went to pick him up and sit him upright, and I noticed that someone had put a bandage on his stomach which was being held in place with a band-aid. I started laughing, and Mom told me one of the nurses had done it. The nurse said if Granny had to have surgery and a bandage, so did Huckleberry.

Today when I went to see her, Huckie was in the new room. I'd brought my camera along and hoped to get a picture of this, but alas, when they took Granny's bandage off, they also took off Huck's.

So instead, here he is enjoying a window view.




















And now how about a recipe?

Tonight's recipe du jour is especially vile. It sounds vile and it looks vile.

Ever wonder where all the good tongue recipes are? I know I do. And unfortunately, we'll all have to keep wondering, because this recipe isn't going to bring us any answers. From the "casseroles" file in cardland, please say a wary hello to Scalloped Potatoes and Tongue.




















Now, it's enough that this recipe contains tongue. And it's more than enough that it looks like Spam, which, believe me, I'd much rather eat in a casserole than tongue. But the kicker here is that even the scalloped potatoes don't look good! How can you screw up scalloped potatoes? Look at all that milk! Euggh. Look at the uneven cheese! Ick! And, well, look at the tongue. Again. Blecch.

Poor kids of the 70s. "Tommy, can I eat with yall tonight? It's Tongue Night at our house."

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Missed two Hackensaw concerts this weekend. Hoping to make up for it next weekend.

A Little Update

As you may have noticed, I've been a bit scarce this week.

This is because my mom, aka Granny, is back in the hospital. Went in Monday morning around 3:30. She's in ICU, and has had up to yesterday every test known to man. It was determined that she needs gall bladder surgery.

My mom isn't strong enough to have surgery, well, that's my opinion, which apparently doesn't count for much.

It also doesn't help that - and get this, you'll love it, and it pretty much explains why I hate all medical care in this area - in her time in the hospital, she's also contracted a strain of MRSA. It's in her urine. When I visited her today, I had to wear surgical gloves. They offered me a mask. I declined.

If anyone out there is smart enough to tell me how a person can have surgery while also having a strain of MRSA in their system, please let me know, because I can't for the fucking life of me figure it out.

Anyway, the surgery will be tomorrow. Morning? Night? I don't know. All I know is that I'll get up tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to sit and wait.

All good thoughts accepted. Please.

Sometime this week - Tuesday? They're all a blur - I got a Comfy Chair movie up, then never had the time to post here that I had one. So if you have a few minutes, go check it out.

http://comfychaircinema.blogspot.com

I'll keep you all posted.

(Yesterday, I got a message from the DeepFatFriar saying he had a rather forward proposition for me. He wanted to commandeer Picture Sunday this week. I thought that sounded great, so I sat back and waited while he sent me text and pictures. Thanks to the Friar, and here is his Picture Sunday.)

Picture Sunday

Hello, end-of-weekenders. DeepFatFriar here, guest Picture-Sundaying for Bet.

Well, the weekend got off to a slow start at noon Friday, when I was done working for the week. Hey, don't get jealous over that. I can do it because I start work before 5 am most days. I pretty much wasted the afternoon and evening in leisure, eating my way through a half-gallon of Blue Bunny Cookies and Cream, with a sticker proclaiming "Over 15% more scoops than a 48 ounce carton." To which my response is, "That's right, peckerheads, and exactly 12.5% fewer scoops than a half gallon!" But I digress.

I did go to a Society for Creative Anachronism meeting in the evening. For those who know about this group, no explanation is necessary; for those who do not, none is possible. But mostly, I spent the day getting Bucephalus (my bicycle) and myself ready for the Saturday Big Adventure.

The SBA was a trip to scout out the Greenbrier Rail Trail, a 75+ mile long bicycle trail the southern end of which is in Lewisburg, West Virginia. It was forecast for 60 degrees F, a perfect day in February, so why not? I stopped at the brand new Panera on the way out of town for coffee and bagels to go, and went.

Now, Lewisburg, West Virginia (home of the West Virginia College of Osteopathy) is about 60 miles due north of Blacksburg Virginia, where I live. But you cannot drive due north from Blacksburg very far. The roads around here just don't go in that direction. In order to go 60 miles due north, you have to go way the hell out of the way in some combination of northeast and northwest. So about 85 miles later, I got to that other burg up there by taking the Betty-Bet-Bet Inspirational Highway to just before it crosses the New River and goes into WV, and turned right on Route 219 into West Virginia, to 63, to 60, to the road the bike path starts from. And typically for me, because I am usually at work before 5 am and sleeping in has a different meaning for me than for most humans, I got there before 9 am, and the temperature at the trailhead was 25 F.

So I rode around town for a bit, and saw this...

...just down the road from these.

Those are black vultures roosting in that tree. About a third of the group that was in that and the adjacent trees. Take a moment, and write your own joke.

Thank you. And then I went back to the trailhead, and started up the trail, but it was still below freezing. I got about 2.5 miles out, over sometimes clear and sometimes snowy-icy trail, and enjoyed the scenery...

...and decided to turn back and scout out another location about 23 miles up the trail, in Renick.

Now, Renick is about 23 miles up the trail, but it's only about 15 miles up the road, as the river meanders a lot, so I drove right through it, thinking that being a major trailhead, it would have some tourist development I'd notice. Wrong. Nothing. But in the process, I did get to drive over this oddly-named geographical formation...

...twice. By the time I got back to Renick and got lost again because I didn't realize the sign pointing to the trail with a left arrow meant you should turn at the second left, not the first, it was 11:30 or so. The river was still icy as you can see...

...but the trail was clear. And the street down to the river is aptly named.

Unfortunately, the trail was fairly soft and I didn't get far, but as I said, it was a scouting trip. I headed back to Lewisburg and, having decided like the Magi to return home a different way, got on I-64 east. About 15 miles down the road, I came to my exit, the sign for which seems to indicate unwarranted certainty within the WV Department of Transportation.

Now, if they are going to put up a sign, and have an exit for them, and promise an exact number, you'd be forgiven for thinking there'll actually be that many. I never saw even one. Perhaps it's that the exit is in West Virginia but the birds are in Virginia. The border does odd things up there. Before I got back to the Betty-Bet-Bet Inspirational Highway east of Pembroke, I'd crossed the Virginia-West Virginia state line five times. Damn drunk cartographers.

But I digress. As I said, I never saw any crows at all, but I did go through a couple of interesting places like...

...and ended up in Paint Bank, home of the Swinging Bridge Restaurant, where I stopped in for lunch. Now, the Swinging Bridge Restaurant is aptly named. It actually has a swinging bridge. Right there in the dining room. Over the diners. From one side of the balcony to the other. You can dine under it if you want to, but I don't know why you would want to, because you can walk across it if you want, too. But there is a sign on it that says "Not suitable for vehicles."

And after lunch, having gone way the hell out of the way to the southeast to get to Paint Bank, I went way the hell out of the way to the southwest to get back to the Betty-Bet-Bet Inspirational Highway, and so home to Blacksburg, having driven about 260 miles in order to bicycle 6. Boy, did I digress.

The rest of the weekend was typically DFFish. I made blueberry pancakes for supper...

...and prepared some elk brisket and roast vegetables for the pot luck we have at the Unitarian Universalist meeting house the second Sunday of each month, and listened to internet radio till bed time. I stayed up unusually late. 10:30 pm. But the hours I retire and rise are not the oddest thing about me. The oddest thing, culturally, about me, is that I do not own a TV. Hence the radio. And the hours, probably, as well. But I digress.

Sunday morning, I contrived a way to carry the elk brisket and roast vegetables to the UUCMH on Bucephalus (remember Bucephalus???), and a good pot luck...

(pic of pot luck)

...was had by all. [Which you'll have to imagine, because as you can see, DFF's pot luck pictures didn't get made. - Bet]

And I rode around town and on the the local trails about 17 miles, and now, I'm about ready to call it a weekend.

It's a weekend. Hope yours was as enjoyable as mine.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Thank you, DeepFatFriar, for the entertaining Picture Sunday. I think this opens a whole new avenue for PS. Anyone who'd like to volunteer to take over Picture Sunday anytime, please let me know. I think it would be very interesting for us all to see the illustrated weekends of my friends. Any takers?

In The News

Hello, blogees. So, what's going on these days?

Well, babies are in the news. Seems a woman in California, who shall here remain unnamed though her name is all over the place everywhere else, has just given birth to a whole mess of babies. A litter, I think it could be called. Eight. Octuplets. And everyone is just going wild over it, or they were until they learned a little about Ms Mom's backstory.

These eight little fellas, sixteen hands and feet, eighty fingers and toes, were born through the miracle that is in vitro fertilization. As they all are. And they were all born healthy, in the span of five minutes, no less (as my sister remarked, "Well, they just came barreling out like a choo-choo train!"), and publishing houses and reality TV shows were just peeing their pants over this news, and stores and diaper companies and auto dealers were lining up at the door to be the first with a gift.

Thing is, there's a little more to the story. Mom is a single woman, living at home with her parents, which is nothing to be ashamed of, but she also has six other children there, yes, twelve hands and feet and sixty fingers and toes, waiting for her when she leaves the hospital. The six kids are three sets of twins, all born via the test tube, and the little mother also seems to have no gainful means of employment, according to all the news sources.

And pardon me for being so bold, but that is something to be ashamed of.

Unless you're crazy, which I believe this woman may well be. I mean, I don't know her, but Jesus H Christ in a chicken basket.

And that's why I don't want to mention her name. I will, however, mention the entire OB-GYN staff at Kaiser Permanente Hospital in Bellflower, CA. Because I can't believe they'd keep planting fertilized eggs in this woman. At least without sending her for some serious psychological testing. I mean, hell, when I had surgery some five years ago, I not only had to have a psychological workup, but the surgeon had to meet with my family, my "post-surgery support system," face to face to get to know them and make sure they were up to the task of looking after me for a few weeks.

And so we now have a new rival to the odious Duggar family, who are now on child 19, I believe it is, and are planning more. But they do seem to be gainfully employed, well, the dad is, and I'm sure the kids are, all taking care of each other.

Thing is, well. Well. Stop having all those kids, people! I don't care if you're rich or poor or married or not, you're bringing too many people onto the earth and using up other people's resources. Give it a fucking rest.

And no one seems to look at it from the point of view of the kids. One mom, fourteen kids? There's just not enough attention to go around.

But, that's me.

Let's see, what else is going on? Oh, drugs. Michael Phelps got his picture in the papers enjoying a little herbal refreshment straight from the bong. There was a fair amount of outrage, though not from his sponsors, and I'm happy about that. Because I'm thinking they might be of the same mindset as I am. "If this guy can win every race he entered in the Olympics, and he smokes pot, he really is one hell of an athlete."

News came through today that now the police are saying they just might arrest Michael. And I don't see how they can do that. What have they got? A picture of Michael and a bong. They can't prove what was in it. Might have been ground-up Wheaties for all they know, and I bet the Wheaties people would be very happy about that.

Big bucks are in the news. No, not the TARP, which we'll get to in the acrowinners, but the auction game. Seems someone is auctioning off the telephone number 867-5309. Yes, the phone number made famous by Tommy Tutone some 25 years ago is on the auction block. Which boggles the mind, because that has to be a number on phones all over the country, but this one seems to be in the 201 area code. Current bid? Nope, you're wrong. $365,000.

According to the guy who now owns the number, it's not your average 80s burnout who's looking to buy the number. Businesses think it would be a keen idea to have 867-5309 as their phone number.

Of course, my perfect scenario would be that some business spends upwards of $400,000 for the digits only to have Tommy Tutone refuse to sell his song to them for a commercial. But even if he does, I guess he could use the dough, so good on him.

And no mention of the news, for me, anyway, would be complete without mentioning a little shitbag called Stephen Fowler. As you all know, I'm addicted to the TV show "Wife Swap," yes, and I'm none too happy to admit it, but I am. This past week's show featured a redneck mom from Missouri who went to live with a snooty upper-class bunch of health-conscious environmentalists from San Franciso. The dad of that family was a British fellow named Stephen Fowler.

I'm also none too happy to admit that this episode of "Wife Swap" made me weep profusely. Mr Fowler was such a complete dickwad I found myself smack-dab face to face with the reality that people like this exist in the world. During this woman's visit to his home, and don't get me wrong, she was uneducated and backwards, but she had a good heart and was, after all, a human being, Mr Fowler treated her no better than a turd on his shoe. He ridiculed her, both to her face and to his children while she was in the room. He called her names, he made fun of her, he came up with such beautiful lines of conversation as, "I make more in a week than you do in a year," and, "You're uneducated, you're a redneck, and you're obese." By the end of the show, he'd instructed his two children to not acknowledge her existence.

It's hard to explain, there are a few clips on You Tube of the show, but nothing that really shows the absolute asshattery of this man, but trust me. Think of the worst person you've ever met and multiply it by ten, and you still don't have a Stephen Fowler.

Anyway, since the show aired, forums around the world are overloading from all the comments. The Fowlers have had to change their phone numbers, pull down their websites and facebook pages, and Mr Fowler has had to resign from one of the corporations he was affiliated with. Apparently hate mail is pouring in quicker than he can ridicule it, and they're now contemplating a lawsuit upon ABC Television for the edit they got.

Which was exactly, while drying my tears on Friday, what I said would happen. "When the shit hits the fan over this, they'll sue."

My question over all this is, if you think you are the most intelligent, wealthy, and witty little peg in the upper echelon, why in the hell would you go on "Wife Swap?" Talk around the forums seems to speculate it was to hype the wife's (Mrs Stephens-Fowler) business, which just happens to be - as a weight loss coach!

After all the ridicule her husband heaped on his overweight "Wife Swap" wife, I don't think Mrs Stephens-Fowler needs to be planning on expanding the business anytime soon.

And a funny little addendum to that. I could probably level Mr Asshat to the ground with one sentence. My mother's maiden name is Fowler, so somewhere along the line he could be related to me.

And that, I guess, is the news.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners. So, what would you rename the Trouble Asset Recovery Program, or TARP?
- Honorable Mentions go to Kellie (with an ie), with her "Totally Awful. Revelry. Planes." and the DeepFatFriar, with his "Total Assholes Raping Poor."
- Runner-Up goes to Stennie, with her "Treasury Aids Rich People."
- And this week's winner is Patrick, with his "Taste Ass, Regular People." You said you couldn't think of any other entries, but you didn't need any.
* Thanks to all who played, you've all done very well! (And I mean that, your entries were great.)

Acrochallenge!

Hello, lovers of letters, and welcome to another round of acromania.

I have a great acro this week. I had one already thought up that wasn't overly great, and then my buddy Stennie made a suggestion. And here it is. And I'll just quote it from the way it was written to me:

Did you see Rachel Maddow tonight? She was talking about the TARP (Trouble Asset Recovery Program). But she said it actually stood for Throw A Righteous Party, because Bank of America threw some huge-ass billion-dollar Super Bowl party. With OUR bailout money.

SO. Acro could be TARP.

And SO, it shall be.

All the rules are the same. Everyone gets three entries to come up with the best acronym they can that matches the topic above and the, well, the letters are also above. Which means the acrobasket is on vacation this week. He's at the big Bank of America party. Then tomorrow night at 10:00 est I shall be reading the entries and naming the winners.

So the acro is "Trouble Asset Recovery Program - T A R P - What does it mean to you?"

Now, acro!

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Very big news indeed - there is a new movie up at the Comfy Chair Cinema. You can click the link or the link in the blogrolling section to your left. Please go and give it a look!

Once again, I suppose there will be no Picture Sunday. Been working all afternoon with the hell that is movie-making. Three programs, two cameras, and ... and well, nothing.

I could tell you all the ins and outs, but I'm too tired.

Maybe Tuesday.