It’s simple, really: We’re all counting on you.
When C&W star Randy Travis showed up the other day at a Dallas fundraiser for Mitt Romney, the tall, dark-haired woman at his side sure didn’t look like his longtime wife and manager, Libby Hatcher. Were we ever behind the times. In a steamy saga that’s played out right here in our own backyard, it looks like the singer has divorced his wife of 19 years after taking up with one Mary Beougher, who was married to Randy’s Plano dentist Ritchie Beougher, DDS.
According to various sources, the tawdry tale began when Randy took a walk with Mary while Libby’s teeth were being cleaned at Beougher’s swanky Willow Bend Dental clinic. Next thing you know, Libby had planted a spy camera on Randy’s tour bus and caught the cheating pair red-handed. Now Randy and Mary are supposedly looking for a place together in Gainesville, and Randy’s promising to marry her as soon as she’s divorced. Oh yeah: Travis may have gone back to drinkin’ again, too. All in all it’s a story that would make a great country song, like the ones Randy is famous for.
Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs! Let’s go, Mavs!

A genius by the name of Brett Barbour Photoshopped this together and brought it to my attention. Kudos, Brett!
This is definitely what you think it is. Continuing my “things I rarely do on this blog” theme of the week because you’re all going to be watching the Mavs game tonight no matter what I say, here is the best picture I have seen since the last time I saw something awesome. And not to drag this whole Weinergate thing out, but I have two very serious and legitimate questions. One, is Anthony Weiner at all related to Marc Weiner of Weinerville fame (Nickelodeon, 1993-1994)? Because they look so much alike that I really wanted to type that in all caps. And two, why has the rest of the Internet not noticed this yet?
If the Mavs were not playing, I’d suggest that everyone make a pilgrimage to Grand Prairie to catch Earth, Wind, and Fire at the Nokia Theater. It just sounds like plain old fun. I like them for many of the same reasons other people do, but mostly because I spent a ridiculous amount of time my sophomore year in college dancing around my apartment to “September” instead of studying and hardcore spying on the guy with the pet monkey who lived in the building across the street from my window. Not a euphemism, folks, he really had a monkey. It lived in a cat carrier. Anyway, Earth, Wind, and Fire saved me from being really, really creepy and for that, I am forever in their debt.
If you happen to be in Fort Worth this evening and again, not watching the Mavs game, you can find happiness. Happiness Is, a documentary that follows the director on some sort of vision quest, asks notable people (such as the Dalai Lama) and everyday Americans what happiness is and where/how to find it. It’s screening at the Modern. Pretty sure if we win this Finals thing, the entire nation minus the city of Miami will have a good answer.
Speaking of, the Libertine Bar does a mean game day special, and here’s another handy link to Raya’s round up of places to go if you haven’t already staked out a prime spot.
Happy Thursday to you and yours. For more things to do, go here.
Sammy Ladymon lives in Garland. He likes to look at stars, by gum. And helicopters and planes keep seeming to fly low above his house to harass him and interrupt his amateur astronomy. So why wouldn’t he point an intense green light at them? I mean, hey, he says, it’s not like he’s firing bullets.
From the NBC5 interview:
Ladymon is charged with illumination of an aircraft by intense light, a misdemeanor. He said he cannot pay his $1,000 bail because he has no family or friends willing to help him.
He said he is housed in a cell with eight inmates who were surprised to learn the charge against him.
“They call me ‘the laser pointer guy,’” he said.
Rick Perry is thinking much harder about a run for the White House, partly because his record helping create jobs would position him well in a race against President Obama. That’s according to the Wall Street Journal, anyway. That scenario might make sense, except for this: the GOP isn’t about to nominate another swaggering Texas governor so soon after W. Not to say Perry couldn’t wind up a VP pick, though.
Shelter Accidentally Euthanizes Dog. Most of us here at D like dogs. Some of us even love them. (Though I have learned that Tim would never get his dog a masseuse.) Therefore, stories like this one are bothersome. One-year-old Lab Divya escaped from Brian McGowan’s Balch Springs yard. She was found and taken to a shelter. She had her tags. McGowan called to ensure they had his number if they found her. He visited twice to see if she was there. So did his girlfriend. One day he called to check in, and they told him his dog had been adopted. Turns out, she had been euthanized just hours before. No jokes here.
Father’s Punishment Backfires. When Robert Rausch’s daughter decided to have friends over late one night as he and his wife were sleeping, he found a clever way to punish her. He took out an ad in the Southlake Journal offering her babysitting services for free. That ad then made its round on the interwebs. He’s been called a negligent father and criticized in every way imaginable. So he wrote a column in the Star-Telegram defending himself. I like Rausch. I like the way he parents. But if you were his daughter, wouldn’t you just be sitting back laughing?
Jurors Have Tough Decision in Payne Case. A jury has been sequestered and will return today to decide if Charles Payne knew that he was shooting at a police officer when he killed Senior Cpl. Norm Smith. He claims he didn’t know Smith was a cop. Those with Smith claim that they announced they were cops. The jury now has to decide if he should be charged with capital murder (meaning the death penalty), manslaughter, or even not guilty. Right now, I’m picturing the jury sitting in a dark room with no air conditioning, much like a scene from Twelve Angry Men. The jurors have a big decision to make.
Go, Mavs! I’m sure Zac will be along sometime today to do his thing for you superstitious types. Until then, I’ll give you some nuggets to get you pumped for tonight.