I can't stand Katie Couric.

It all started when I was watching one of those Dateline type shows a few years ago. She was interviewing a single mom with five children who, according to the the woman herself, "went out to get drunk". And get drunk she did. So much so that she ended up sticking around after the bar closed and had sex with FIVE guys in one of the back booths.

Now according to the one guy who agreed to be interviewed, she was coherent enough to tell them what to do and how to do it. But according to her, she didn't remember a thing about that night.

The guys, being guys of course, told their friends who told their friends who told their friends until it got back to a friend of the woman who then told the woman, "They raped you."

So she filed a police report.

All five ended up getting the charge reduced to something like sexual misconduct and paid their fines.

Now, here's why I don't like Katie Couric.

While she was interviewing the "going out to get drunk" woman, she was all syrupy sweet and "oh you poor woman" acting.

But when she was interviewing the guy, she had this pissed off look on her face and was all sarcastic with him. She even asked him a question along the lines of, "So how did you feel when you were raping her?"

Oh, Hell To The No, you did not just ask him that!

At this point I am yelling at the TV. For real. My husband is restraining me from running over and kicking her in the head. He finally changed channels and settled me down.

I thought reporters were supposed to be unbiased, you little shit. She WENT OUT TO GET DRUNK! (Her own words.) She WAS TELLING THE GUYS HOW TO HAVE SEX WITH HER! (His words.)

I would have wiped that smirk off of Katie's face she would have been in arm's reach of me.

And since I don't like her and hubby doesn't like the ABC chick, morning tv at our house can be interesting...

And speaking of our house, take a look at my yard. (And don't even think about stalking me. I *will* shoot you.)

Here is the south forty (actually south three).

It makes for hours of mowing, but we got a new toy that cuts the time almost in half.

It has a cup holder and a power outlet (WTF?). So I guess now I can drink my hard cider and watch a movie on the portable DVD player while I mow.

Oh, and by the way, from now on I shall be referred to as Mrs. Commander.

From the ceremony.

The outgoing Mrs. Commander and I were escorted to our chairs by a couple of the soldiers, but I felt more like I was being taken prisoner. I guess these folks had never escorted anyone before. "No, no. See, you hold out your arm and I link mine through it. You don't reach out and grab my bicep like you are taking me to the brig."

Bow and scrape, you underlings!