When you live in the middle of nowhere, also known as the boonies, the sticks, or even Buttfuque, Idaho (whether you're in Idaho or not)), there isn't a whole lot to report in the weekly paper. Most rural papers boost readership, and fill space, by including pithy, action-packed hardhitting columns from various tiny communities. Here, word for word, is what our paper recently had to say. Really. I'm not making this crap up.

From Inland:
"Mary Fricke, Joan Hinrichs, Jane Van Laningham went to a Hastings restaurant Tuesday evening.

Mary Fricke babysat her great-grandson, Dominic Fricke, at her son's home in Hastings so her granddaughter, Katie Fricke, could join the family at the Adams County Fair.

Angela Fricke visited her grandma, Mary Fricke, on Thursday evening.

Brian Fricke of Hastings and Mary Fricke of Inland visited Marian Fry at Harvard Rest Haven on Monday evening."

From Clay Center:
"Pat Gewecke, secretary at the County roads shop, fell and broke both her arms. I've heard of people going on a diet, but that is a little extreme. It's a little hard to eat without hands. Hurry up and get better so you can come back to work."

From Glenvil:
"A card shower has been requested by their children, Denise and Dave and their families in honor of Duane and Lucille Schliep on their 50th Wedding Anniversary on August 14, 2005."

From Edgar:
"Mrs. Iona Elifritz returned Sunday after spending two weeks with the Norman Lux family in Columbus. On Sunday she attended the birthday celebration held for her and her twin sister, Mrs. Iola Fitzke, at the Autumn Park Community Room in Hastings."

Of course, reading between the lines is the really fun part. Look carefully and you'll see that not only is there a frickin' ton of Frickes in Inland, but that one of them has a granddaughter who got knocked up without benefit of marriage. And that Pat Gewecke is not only the sole person in County Roads who knows where anything is or gets anything done, but is also a bit of a porker. And that the Schliep kids are cheapass schlepps who won't pay for so much as an open house for their parents. And that back in the '30s, parents of twins were just as besotted with cute matching names.

Hurricanes, schmurricanes. We've got the real news right here.