MONDAY, AUGUST 27 This week of gravity-based slayings, murderous Mormons, and hideous lapses in locker-room etiquette kicks off today with a story that will devour the majority of the days to follow. We're speaking, of course, of the wholesale debasement of Senator Larry Craig, the Idaho Republican whose June 11 arrest for lewd conduct in a Minneapolis bathroom was revealed by the Capitol Hill newspaper Roll Call today. Also revealed: Senator Craig's subsequent guilty plea to the lesser charge of "disorderly conduct" regarding the events of June 11, when the 62-year-old Craig allegedly attempted to solicit sex from an undercover policeman in a men's bathroom at the Minneapolis–St. Paul International Airport. (Hubba hubba.) Following today's delayed revelations, the married and staunchly anti-gay Craig will spend the rest of the week defending his name, denouncing the allegations (his guilty plea was "an error in judgment"), and repeatedly pronouncing his heterosexuality. Meanwhile, the Idaho Statesman will tonight publish an article quoting "a man with close ties to Republican officials" about the homosexual sex he enjoyed with Senator Craig in the bathroom of Washington, D.C.'s Union Station. On Saturday, Craig will announce his resignation from the Senate, then return home for some hot, stress-busting heterosexual sex with his lucky, lucky wife. Condolences to all.
TUESDAY, AUGUST 28 Speaking of icky things discovered in men's rooms: "I was changing today in the men's locker room at the downtown Allstar Fitness," reports Hot Tipper G. "It wasn't until I was almost finished that I noticed the guy sitting next to me on the bench was shaving the calluses/corns/warts/what-have-you on his feet and flinging the excess tissue on the floor. After glaring viciously at him in the proper Seattleite way, I said, 'That's not very hygienic, you know.' He frowned at me like I was being rude, then said, sarcastically, 'Oh, thanks.' But at least he stopped."
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 29 The week continues with a tale of fatally bad luck from the wilds of Wyoming. That's where 47-year-old Pete Absolon—the Rocky Mountain director of the National Outdoor Leadership School, as well as a beloved husband and father—was hiking in the Wind River Mountains earlier this month when he was fatally struck by a bowling ball–sized rock. Hideous twist: The 20-pound rock was sent on its deadly way by Luke Rodolph, a 23-year-old Iraq war veteran who'd been sitting on the rim of a canyon with three friends. As Rodolph told the Associated Press, he didn't see Absolon until the rock struck him in the head, leaving no time for a warning. (For what it's worth, Rodolph's behavior after the accidental killing was exemplary—he stayed overnight with Absolon's body, reported the deed to police the next morning, and made sure Absolon's body was recovered that same day.) Last week, Rodolph got a fat load of good news, as Fremont County Attorney Ed Newell announced that Rodolph wouldn't faces charges in the accidental killing, with Rodolph's extreme remorse, lack of intent, and service in Iraq cited as factors in the decision. Yesterday, Rodolph spoke publicly for the first time of the crippling remorse he's felt since the fateful slaying. "I'd do anything to change it," said a tearful Rodolph to the AP. Again, condolences to all.
THURSDAY, AUGUST 30 Nothing happened today, unless you count the guilty plea entered today by Jacob Nickels, the 26-year-old son of Seattle Mayor Greg Nickels, who stands charged with conspiracy to commit theft of funds from a tribal gaming establishment. According to court documents, Nickels was working as pit boss at the Nooksack River Casino when he entered into a cheating scheme involving dealers, false shuffles, and, allegedly, hundreds of thousands of illicitly won dollars. Nickels is scheduled to be sentenced on December 14, when he could receive up to five years in prison and a $250,000 fine.
FRIDAY, AUGUST 31 The week continues with an exceedingly well-documented Seattle suicide, first noted around 11:00 p.m. last night, when 911 dispatchers received a call about a body seen floating in Lake Washington. According to the Seattle Times, police identified the body as Tobias Allen, whose death authorities will attribute to suicide. According to his MySpace profile, Allen was a 39-year-old single Libra with a penchant for the Mariners, existential drama, and exclamation points. "Most days it feels/seems that most people are mindless fucking sheep," wrote Allen in his MySpace blog on June 15 [sic throughout]. "I'm talking about the people that actually waste presious oxygine talking about Paris Hell-ton. Who gives a fuck? Vapid little bitch... look, now I'm doing it! Thank the powers that be that the aurora bridge is only minutes away. I may need it soon!" By August 4, things were looking up: "Just when I was ready to give up on another summer.... my sweet sweet M's start kicking ass! I'm about to grin, or cry, or something. This has been one of THEE LAMEST summers of my life, to date. I was really going nuts. Then the mighty M's start kickin some ass! I guess, if they can do it, so can I! I have to see the end of the season! Maybe I will turn 40...." He didn't. RIP Tobias Allen, whom interested parties can see in the 2000 documentary Collectors, chronicling the nation's premier serial-killer enthusiasts. (In addition to Mariners and MySpace, Allen appreciated art made by serial killers. Go figure.)
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 1 Nothing happened today, unless you count Last Days' journey to Salt Lake City, where we were invited to stand outside a Mormon temple wedding (thanks, we guess) and couldn't resist sneaking off to a screening of September Dawn, Christopher Cain's extravagantly hammy dramatization of the Mountain Meadows massacre, wherein 120 westbound emigrants in Utah—men, women, children—were slaughtered by a Mormon militia on the morning of September 11, 1857. (To the grave older man who confronted us in the lobby after the film: We weren't laughing at the horrifying events of September 11, 1857, we were laughing at the ridiculous film Cain made about the horrifying events of September 11, 1857. To the couple who bought tickets immediately before us, asking the clerk, "Can we have two tickets to, uh... that movie where Mormons kill people?" We love you.)
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 2 Nothing happened today.
We'll never forgive ourselves for missing Gogol Bordello at Bumbershoot. Send detailed recaps and Hot Tips to firstname.lastname@example.org.