Now that I've given you the good news for the day, let's fill the rest of the show with bad news. I can't wait.

I’m no fan of The News. It’s not just the stories of the inevitable destruction of civilization and the universe that distress me, the people who deliver the news scare me, too. These are angry people who shout at each other, their “guests” and sometimes their audiences. If I want to be treated like that, I could have continued working in higher education.

Since I’m retired, invited to few parties not involving blood relatives, and most of my conversations with others involve the weather, the weather, did I bring my own grocery bag, and the weather, I don’t need to be informed about the chaos that most people accept as “the way things are.” I know it’s a mess out there; I just don’t keep up on the details.

It took a lot of work to get this uninformed. You really should be impressed.

There are two exceptions to my “No News” rule: The Daily Show with Jon Stewart (when he’s not on one of his 25 one-week vacations per year). I can tolerate the news when it’s seasoned with lots of humor. Odd  news stories that fall through the cracks of mainstream news are also entertaining and give me a glimpse into just how wacky other people are. I feel like I’m not alone in the truth-is-stranger-than-fiction department. These stories are just too irresistible not to share with you.  That’s what this post is about. I’ve saved them, so get ready.

Ha! Ha! You think I'm kidding, don't you? That's the beauty of my show. I'm not. I'm just packaging the news in a way that Highly Sensitive People like Lorna can sleep at night.

Man’s Best Friend Eats Man’s Dream: A Seattle golf maniac…enthusiast won 4 passes to practice rounds at the Masters Gold Tournament. He was certifiably…absolutely giddy with delight, but not nearly as giddy as his dog, Sierra, who had seen them and thought they looked suspiciously like a doggy treat. Down they went. Mr. I-Love-Golf-More-Than-Sierra-At-The-Moment made his dog vomit (details withheld–you’re welcome). He tried to piece the gooey glommed-up ticket pieces together as best he could, took a picture of the mess, and sent a message along with the photo saying “My dog ate my tickets.” The Disgusta…Augusta National Golf Club printed him duplicate tickets. I hope someone gave Sierra some special treats after her ordeal.

I go goof balls for golf tickets. Yummy! I bet the tickets to the World Series are better than Bacon N' Bits.

It’s Fast Food, Not Fabulous Food: A Tennessee woman was so disgusted with her hamburger that she dialed 9-1-1 to complain. Twice. This is the transcript of the call: “I had ordered some food from Hardee’s over here and the food is no good, and the girl told me when I called her back that I could bring it back and get my money on it. Now she’s telling me she can’t do anything until tomorrow. I had to work for seven hours today to get that money just to eat a sandwich and I just got out of the hospital yesterday and they can give me my money back. I only took a small bite out of the burger and it’s nasty.”  Police were dispatched to this woman’s home and she was arrested for abusing the 9-1-1 system. The local Hardee’s Manager, 17 year-old, Timmy, politely declined comment but I hear they are considering installing a Comment Box near the trash cans. (I made that last part up.)

I'm telling you, this burger is so bad, I'm using it to make this call.

They’re Called “Dumbbells” For a Reason: In Modesto, CA, A man shot himself in the shoulder when he dropped a dumbbell on the floor and it hit a rimfire .22-caliber bullet, causing the propellant powder in the bullet to be activated and sending it into his shoulder. Or so he said. The police investigator was suspicious. The man is 56 years old and should have known better than to be lifting weights alone in his home. He also needs a better housekeeper. I hate it when stray bullets are left on the floor. They hurt when you step on them in your bare feet. And drop dumbbells on them.

Golly, I sure Momma didn't leave no bullets on the ground. She don't know I'm messing around with her new BustBlaster she done ordered from the Home Shoppin Network.

Driving Ms. Doggy: In Moscow (the Russian one), it took three dogs to figure out how to shift their master’s running car from “park” to “drive” and plow into another woman’s car in a parking lot. If there had been only two dogs, they could have never pulled it off. By the time the police arrived to survey the scene, the dogs had managed to shift the car into “reverse” and move the car several feet away from the woman’s car. There were no signs of empty vodka bottles, so the dogs were sober and their licenses weren’t revoked.

Let's get the car closer so Mommy doesn't have to lug the groceries so far. I'll work the steering wheel. Bobbka, you keep an eye out for traffic. And Doodles, you make sure you know the brake pedal from the gas pedal. Let's go! (I've translated this from Russian canine to English for your convenience.)

Oh, Just Play Along, Officer: In Altoona, PA (where I suspect to see an increase in applications for State Trooper positions), a state trooper reported that an extremely drunk woman met him at the door wearing only underpants and holding two yellow roses she wanted him to accept as part of her “cop fantasy.” The trooper was responding to a report that she was seen driving erratically. He had to work with her a little while to get her to admit she was driving while drunk. I’ll bet he had to work with her…

Hellooo, Ocifer Sessy Pants. You like my buds, you hansome guy, you? Hep arrange me with your bigg manly man hans. Petty peas, Ocifer, Sir.

If you don’t believe me, just click on the links. The stories are there. I’m not creative enough to make this stuff up.