MONDAY, AUGUST 31 Hello and welcome back to original-recipe Last Days, which commences today with Referendum 71, the Washington State ballot referendum that'll spend the week being kicked around the courts like a smelly, anti-gay hacky sack. For those not already haunted by the facts: R-71 will ask voters to approve or reject Washington's recently expanded domestic-partnership law, which secured "everything-but-marriage" rights for registered same-sex couples and was signed into law by Governor Christine Gregoire earlier this year. In a kicky twist, R-71 would allow majority vote to decide the basic rights of the minority, and today the secretary of state's office decided that the referendum had enough valid signatures to qualify for the November ballot. Meanwhile, today in King County Superior Court, R-71 faced its first court battle, instigated by a lawsuit filed last week by the pro-domestic-partnership group Washington Families Standing Together, requesting an injunction to keep the sketchy referendum off the fall ballot. Wednesday will bring a mind-bending double-whammy follow-up, as King County Superior Court judge Julie Spector rejects the attempt to block R-71 (saying that any such effort has to be made in Thurston County while citing her concerns that thousands of invalid signatures may have been accepted for R-71) and Secretary of State Sam Reed reconfirms that R-71 has enough valid signatures to qualify for the November ballot. On Thursday, Washington Families Standing Together will file its referendum-blocking lawsuit in Thurston County Superior Court. Stay tuned.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 1 In lesser news, the week continues with the well-hyped return of a would-be American superstar: Whitney Houston, who today hit the stage in Central Park for a "comeback performance" to be broadcast on Good Morning America. By all accounts, it was a depressing suckfest, with critics citing the repeated cracking of Houston's voice and her total avoidance of high notes. Even worse, Houston knew she blew it, offering an onstage apology for her weak singing and blaming her troubles on a long, talky interview conducted the previous day with Oprah Winfrey. Nevertheless, today's performance was a commendable step in the right direction for Houston, last seen as the totally heartbreaking horny-crack-whore wife on TV's Being Bobby Brown.

Also, let the record show that if not for a certain someone who will finally be laid to rest this Thursday, Whitney Houston's journey from American pop princess/diva/movie star to desperate drug addict and back would be the preeminent celebrity narrative of our age. (Seriously, the woman had it all—beauty, talent, prolonged extravagant success—and let it go because, apparently, smoking cocaine feels even better than being Whitney fucking Houston. Please make a note of it, and beware.)

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2 Speaking of fascinating travesties: The week continues with the barely-safe-for-work story out of the U.S. Embassy in Kabul, a stately sounding locale revealed today as a hotbed of alcohol-soaked homoeroticism. At the center of the man-on-man action that may prove to be criminal sexual harassment: ArmorGroup, the private firm hired by the State Department to provide security at the Kabul embassy, where, as ABC News reports, rookie guards were allegedly "pressured to participate in naked pool parties and perform sex acts to gain promotions." According to 1 of the 12 ArmorGroup guards who have gone public with their complaints, top supervisors were not only aware of the "deviant sexual acts" but helped organize them. Last Days has viewed photographs of the allegedly deviant acts—first revealed by the Project on Government Oversight—and we can report these acts include nipple-licking, water sports, and dudes taking vodka shots out of each other's buttcracks. "It was mostly the young guys fresh from the military who were told they had to participate," said the guard to ABC. "They were not gay, but they knew what it took to get promoted." The day after tomorrow, the State Department will announce the firing of eight guards and the resignation of two more.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 3 Meanwhile in California: Today police launched a homicide investigation into whoever set the wildfire north of Los Angeles, which scorched 226 square miles, destroyed dozens of homes, and killed two firefighters—and has been confirmed as an act of arson. Meanwhile at L.A.'s Forest Lawn Cemetery, the thoroughly extinguished Michael Jackson was finally laid to rest, with a private service attended by his family; his first wife, Lisa Marie Presley; Michael's young-friends-turned-adolescent-rejects Macaulay Culkin and Corey Feldman; and fellow child-star-turned-adult-opiate-lover Elizabeth Taylor. Condolences to all (especially Last Days' best friend Mindy, who was forced to evacuate her home due to that terrifying wildfire).

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 4 The week continues with this horrifying sentence from the Associated Press: "A U.S. jet blasted two fuel tankers hijacked by the Taliban in northern Afghanistan, setting off a huge fireball Friday that killed up to 90 people, including dozens of civilians who had rushed to the scene to collect fuel."

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 5 In lighter news, today brought what appeared to be the tapering off of the swine-flu outbreak at Washington State University. Details come from the Associated Press, which reports that the number of students reporting flu symptoms has plummeted from roughly 150 a day to roughly 45 a day. In all, at least 2,200 WSU students have gotten sick, with exactly zero of the students requiring hospitalization. Hurrah.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 6 The week ends with a refreshing dose of litter-based vigilante justice, courtesy of Hot Tipper Shannon: "Early this evening, a craving for a jar of fake cheese led me to City Market at Bellevue and Olive. A yellow cab was parked out front, and to my dismay, the cabbie threw his mustard-covered corn-dog tray out his window and onto the ground. I picked up said mustard-covered corn-dog tray and politely said, 'You dropped this,' then tossed it into his lap. The pissed cabbie proceeded to throw the container back onto the street and speed away. I did not get his cab number, but the nice employees in the market know him: He's an older, fat, white cabbie with black-rimmed glasses. He has a fondness for corn dogs and is a lazy slob with mustard stains on his crotch."

Thanks to Ann Romano for covering this column during our time away (and much love to Julie, Barbara, and Schneider). Send Hot Tips to lastdays@thestranger.com.