MONDAY, JANUARY 10 The week kicks off with the premier criminal trial in the Abu Ghraib prisoner-abuse scandal, as 36-year-old Charles Graner--a reservist specialist from Uniontown, Pennsylvania and baby daddy to the spawn of Private First Class Lynndie England--appears before a Texas military jury on charges of assault, dereliction of duty, maltreating prisoners, committing indecent acts, and conspiracy. Before the 10-member jury, Graner's attorney struggles to support his client's defense, which wavers between "He was just following orders" and "He didn't do anything wrong" and climaxes with the now-classic quote, "Don't cheerleaders all over America form pyramids six to eight times a year? Is that torture?" By Friday, the jury will have heard enough, finding Graner guilty of all five charges, for which he now faces up to 17 years behind bars.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 11 Speaking of the slippery threshold between kidding and crime: Today Last Days turns to the hubbub surrounding Prince Harry, following the young royal's appearance at a costume party in Nazi costume. Despite Jewish advocates' requests to send the offending prince to Auschwitz (to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the death camp's liberation), royal officials have resisted. "[Prince Harry] recognizes he made a very bad mistake and he apologizes for that," said one royal official to Reuters. "There are no plans for him to say anything more."

•• Speaking of horrifying mistakes that should haunt those who made them long after their deaths: Today Last Days turns to a story we reported not once but twice--our post-election day sighting of "a hilarious hooker" strolling near 18th Avenue and Madison Street with a tin lunch box devoted to Bee Gee Maurice Gibb. But as a message in our voicemail tragically informed us, that hooker was not a hooker. "Actually, I work at Off the Wall in the U-District," said our exceedingly good-natured victim Victoria, who said she learned of her new fame/alternative profession when her boss posted the item at work. "A lot of people know me by my lunch box," said Victoria, who proceeded to answer all our questions with aplomb. Where'd she get the lunchbox? "I found it for $200 on eBay." Why Maurice? "Because he died! I figured if I got him now, I'd have him forever." Since you're not a hooker, can people date you for free? "Sure!"

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 12 Speaking of happy endings: Today we turn once again to the era-defining saga of Michael Jackson, starting with Judge Rodney S. Melville's ruling that the courtroom at Jackson's forthcoming criminal trial will remain open. Unfortunately, Judge Melville's open-court policy doesn't extend to cameras--so thank God for E! Entertainment Television, which will team with British Sky Broadcasting to produce day-by-day reenactments of the entire trial. Drawing upon court transcripts to reconstruct the previous day's testimony and events, the half-hour programs will run Monday through Friday, with weekly wrap-up specials each Saturday. And if this isn't exciting enough: The week after next, Last Days will be coming to you live from Santa motherfucking Barbara, where Michael Jackson begins his trial on 10 felony charges, ranging from child molestation to conspiracy, beginning Monday, January 31. Wish us luck, and if anyone has a recorded copy of the Martin Bashir documentary Living with Michael Jackson they'd be willing to loan us (we thought they'd air it forever, but it became evidence), call 323-7101.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 13 Today brings a pair of horror stories from the godforsaken land of nightmares that is Seattle Metro. Story number one comes from Hot Tipper Marisa, a sweet lady who was riding the #18 bus when confronted by a scene that both broke her heart and churned her stomach. "Across from me sat an older woman who was coughing continuously," reports Marisa. "About every 10 seconds, she'd vomit into a towel, which she'd put in a dripping paper bag until she needed to puke again." The poor woman's public puke-and-stash didn't fill everyone with icked-out pity: "With her was an older friend, who didn't have any teeth and who was laughing quietly the whole time." But there was little laughter on the #2 Express, where Hot Tipper Anna found herself seated behind an aggressive nose-hair yanker. "This fucking guy, who otherwise looks like your standard rush-hour bus rider, is violently ripping out his nose hair. Furiously. He digs around in each nostril deep enough for his fingernails to disappear, gets a pincer-grip, and rips the fuckers out, finishing each maneuver with a polished and clearly practiced flick of the hair and attendant blood and boogers onto the GODDAMN FLOOR OF THE BUS! Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Wipe hands on pants. I guess what I want is sympathy and closure." Dear Anna: Sympathy is yours, and nothing brings closure like publication. Happy trails.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 14 For the past half-decade, Last Days has greeted the New Year with the exact same resolution: No more stories about parents flaying/raping/broiling their children. Every year, this resolution is met by a flood of child-abuse stories so diabolically twisted we feel it is our existential duty to report them. This year was no exception, with the days following our resolution bringing story after horrible story, from the teenage couple accused of inflicting an abortion-by-miscarriage with a baseball bat in Michigan, to the 12-year-old boy accused of beating and raping a 3-year-old boy to death in Massachusetts. Still, our resolve holds firm, and readers jonesing for richly detailed accounts of child abuse will have to satisfy themselves elsewhere, as Last Days focuses on our new obsession: the murderous irony of God. Hot on the heels of the four Baptists who drowned in a suction-pumped display pool outside of a Texas Sunday-school convention, today God offered further evidence of His fucked-up sense of humor by allowing a 17-year-old Amish boy to be fatally electrocuted after his horse and buggy got tangled in a power line in Ohio. (Drowning Baptists, electrocuted Amish--dear God, what's next? Catholics fucked by father figures? Whoops.)

SATURDAY, JANUARY 15 In the first good news to attach itself to the beleaguered singer-actress in a decade, today a variety of news agencies reported Courtney Love's renewed custody of 12-year-old daughter Frances, who was removed from Love's care at the commencement of Courtney's psychobender last October. This week, a judge found Love's efforts at rehabilitation to be satisfactory and ruled that a reunion was in the best interests of both mother and daughter. As someone who legitimately believed Courtney would be dead by the end of last year, Last Days congratulates Love on getting her shit together enough to get her daughter back. As someone who loves commercialized tragedy, Last Days encourages Frances to celebrate her 21st birthday by writing a tell-all autobiography. (Between Frances B. and Lourdes C., we're sure to get the 21st-century Mommy Dearest we deserve.)

SUNDAY, JANUARY 16 Nothing happened today (unless you count the Golden Globes, which bestowed a career-achievement award upon Last Days' nemesis Robin Williams, so we don't).

Hey Skillit--gimme a buzz! Everyone else, send Hot Tips to lastdays@thestranger.com.