Two Peas in a Pod. And Facebook Friends.

Pit bulls scare me.

Well, that's an understatement....I'm actually TERRIFIED of pit bulls.   I've never had a bad experience with one, it's just that I watch the news and read the paper. Hardly a week goes by without me running across a story about a vicious pit bull attack.  If the dog's owner is interviewed they usually say something along the lines of:  "We don't know why Killer bit that dude, he's never attacked anyone before".  Then they'll interview someone else who says that pit bulls get a bum rap and that it's all in how you raise them.  I decided years ago that there was no way I was gonna test that theory.  No pit bulls for me! 

Last summer Rebecca started corresponding with a woman named Jen that was very active in dog rescuing.  Jen was trying to find a home for a little puppy that was advertised as a Lab Mix.  Here are the pictures that she sent:

ADORABLE, no?  This little guy was found, along with his sister and his mother, living under a bridge, covered with fleas and ticks and malnourished.  

Jen said a good friend of hers kept the mother dog and left the pups with Jen to be placed in homes.  An elderly couple took the male but returned him within a few days, saying that he was too rambunctious.  They took the female home and were happy with her.  This little guy still needed a home.  Thanks to Jen, he'd already had been fixed and had all his shots.  Rebecca begged and pleaded and used the standard lines:  "I'll take care of him!"  "I'll feed him and train him and give him baths and you won't have to do a thing, Mom!"   "I swear on my life!" "Please, please, please." "Let's at LEAST go look at him!"  You know the lines.  <rolls eyes>  I've got to admit - the puppy WAS really cute and we ended up taking him home.   I justified it by convincing myself that Lacey (our black Lab) really did need someone to play with.

Rebecca named her new puppy Deuce and they were like two peas in a pod.  Deuce settled in and began methodically chewing our house down.  He dragged everything that would fit through the pet door out into the yard - shoes,  Jayden's stuffed animals, pot holders, plastic dishes, toilet bowl brush, articles of clothing, basically just anything he could get his mouth on.  And a very strange thing began happening -  the shape of his face and head started changing.  He started to look disturbingly like a pit bull.  Rut-roh.  

Deuce went along when we took Lacey to the vet for her check-up.   The vet looked at us like we were crazy when we asked what breed of dog he was.  The way he said, "Um...He's a pit bulldog" didn't leave any room for doubt.  

Our initial reaction was to find a new home for Deuce, but that was six months ago and he's still here. He's now as tall as Lacey and even broader through the chest.  He's a 10 month old, rock solid, rippling muscled, kisses-giving machine.  He loves to cuddle and cries when he's left alone.  He's the biggest, sweetest baby you've ever seen!  He hardly ever chews anything up anymore but he's still bad about swiping things and taking them to his hideout underneath the pool deck.  We caught him trying to tip-toe toward the back door with one of my sofa pillows the other day!  

In an effort to socialize him with other dogs, we've taken him to our local Bark Park three times now.  That's the coolest place...it has two big fenced in areas...one for small dogs and one for bigger ones.  Saturday was warm and sunny so the place was rockin' with twenty or thirty dogs of every breed imagineable. Deucey did great, considering that Lacey is the only playmate he probably remembers having.  An overly amorous giant Newfoundland, which was evidently gay, had him pretty freaked out.  Once the Newfoundland found a more cooperative target, Deuce relaxed some and began running from dog to dog in full butt-sniffing, tail-wagging mode.  He was one happy camper on the ride home.

I'm cautiously optimistic but the jury is still out.  I can't get all those news reports out of my mind and I'm constantly watching for signs of unwarranted aggression.  He's very protective of us and of his yard.  The Bark Park is neutral territory so he had nothing to defend there - well, except for his butt - from the Newfoundland.   We're more than a little concerned about what's gonna happen when a strange dog wanders into our yard.  Or a cat.  He doesn't mess with our cat Tokie but that's probably because she laid down the law and taught him a painful lesson about seniority when he first came here. 

Any and all advice that you guys have would be appreciated.  I still can't believe I own a pit bull.   To know him is to love him though. =)

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I know I've been AWOL lately. 

It's because I've been spending my free time hanging out on Facebook!  

It's so easy to hop on there and see what everyone's up to. 

I was tickled pink to find several of my Xanga buddies with pages. 

I can't search for some of my favorite Xangans because I don't know their full names. 

If you have an account then give me a shout sometime. 

I'll make it easy for ya:

http://www.facebook.com/people/Kimm-Beasley-Garbler/1356811472

Another one bites the dust.

The fact that Carly's #3 boyfriend is a private investigator didn't help her a bit.   They're beyond busted.  

Despite going up there a day in advance, Vonda wasn't able to get a bead on Virginia Boyfriend because he doesn't live at any of the addresses that were on his report.  That meant that our only option was to hope that he picked her up at the Norfolk airport and we didn't lose them en route to Virginia Beach.

It was a beautiful piece of investigative work, even if I do say so myself.  Sometimes it seems like the subjects are just meant to get caught, and this was one of those times.

My flight was 40 teeth-gnashing minutes late, which left me only 25 minutes to get my rental car and figure out the layout of the airport, but that's another story. 

Becca, who calls herself "PI Support",  was back here at home monitoring Carly's flight status via the airline website and reporting to us every five minutes on the scheduled arrival time.  Her plane landed a half hour late which gave us time to get our ducks in a row.   Vonda was stationed inside the airport while I covered the arriving flights area in my rental car.  Vonda spotted our subject with a tall, good-looking fellow, strolling hand-in-hand around the baggage claim carousels, waiting on the luggage. She told me that if I parked near Door #3 I might be able to get video of them.   A parking spot opened up no sooner than the words were out of her mouth and I whipped right in.   A minute later they walked out the door and sat down on a bench right beside my SUV!!!   Can I hear a WooT WooT?! 

Carly lit up a smoke and the seemingly paranoid Virginia Boyfriend starting looking all around the area - searching the faces of those people milling about and appearing to check the parked cars for occupants.   He wasn't seeing what was right under his nose though - ME - filming through the heavily tinted rear window, less than 10 feet away!!  Muhahahaha!   She smoked and talked on the phone and rubbed his back.  He kept look-out.  She rubbed his neck and ran her fingers through his hair, he continued searching the parking area,  and the camcorder kept rolling.  I'm gonna have to be sure and edit out all the giggling that I was doing.  It probably wouldn't come across as professional when played in court.

The first part of the assignment was finished; we'd documented her with the boyfriend.  The second, more important part, was tailing them to where they would stay.  The fact that he was a PI had us more than a little concerned. 

She stayed on the bench and lit up a second cigarette while he went back inside to retrieve her bags.  One might wonder how it was that he knew what her bags looked like.   Guess they've done this before, huh?   I had Vonda go back to her rental car in the short-term arriving flight lot on the opposite side of baggage claim.  This is where you'd think Va Boyfriend would've parked. But nooooo.   Here he comes back out to my side, leaving Vonda stuck on the opposite side of the building.  They walked behind my vehicle and crossed to the open-air departing flights lot. 

I was stuck in one-way traffic trying to figure out how to get turned around and go after them.  Vonda is trying to get through the pay gates to come and help look for them.  I managed to get across a concrete curb (Sorry, Alamo Rentals!) and get headed in the right direction.  I spotted them loading her bags into the rear of a white Expedition with personalized tags on it.  (What kind of self-respecting PI puts personalized plates on his vehicle anyway? You're real anonymous, dude!)   I tried three different routes to get to them  but kept finding dead ends and biggers curbs.   I saw them driving toward the pay-and-exit gates while I was circling the outside of the lot.  Just one curb stood between me and them and I had to either go for it or lose them.   I went for it.  A cop with a whistle saw me and starting blowing his little whistle like crazy while running toward me.   I looked around and didn't see a cop car anywhere in sight and I KNEW he couldn't catch me on foot so I floored it and took off after them.  (Sorry, airport police dept!)  When ya gotta go, ya gotta go!!

I caught sight of them three cars ahead as they went through the traffic light exiting the airport.  The light was burnt orange when I flew through it.  Vonda was a couple of cars behind me so she got caught at the light. Virginia Boyfriend got on I-264 and put the pedal to the metal.   I've got to give the guy some credit - he can drive.  He flew to Virginia Beach,  weaving in and out of traffic and consistently going 15-20 mile an hour over the speed limit.    By the grace of God (and my own lead foot) I kept up with him.  I got caught at a light in Virginia Beach and it looked like I might lose him.  I was cussing up a storm as I watched him get further and further away.  The light finally changed and I took off after him.  I saw him pull to the curb about four blocks down.  I eased a block closer and pulled over myself.  Was he waiting on me?  Had I been burned?  Or was this a different white Expedition and he was long gone?

Nope, nope, and nope.   He hopped out and started unloading her luggage.  Vonda caught up before he finished unloading everything and so we filmed them entering the house together from two different angles.  It was truly a beautiful bust...meant to be!  I called the client, briefed him on our findings and we quit for the day.  We found a liquor store and bought a bottle of Crown to celebrate.  Then we checked in a room on the Atlantic coast and order Chinese.  All in all,  that was an awesome day. 

We watched them sporadically over the next two days.  We got them shopping, riding bikes, eating out and going to a very fancy party at an oceanside mansion.  Carly was still there with her Virginia PI Boyfriend when we headed home.   We filmed her on the phone numerous times but she never once called her husband to see how things were going at home or to talk to the kids.   I don't know what she wanted for Christmas but I doubt that it was the divorce papers that she's getting right after the holidays. She's probably on Santa's Naughty List.  The wicked part of me just hopes that all of these boyfriends end up finding out about one another. 

I'm still under the gun here.  The shopping isn't quite finished and we have family coming in for the holidays.  The house is a mess, presents need wrapping, and the laundry isn't doing itself.  I need a maid for Christmas.  Or a personal assistant.  I wouldn't turn either one of those down.  To top it all off, I'm getting a cold.  I need some Nyquil and I feel a nap sneaking up on me.   Maybe a quick nap would leave me rejuvenated and ready to tackle all those other unpleasant tasks.  Hey, it's worth a shot!

Merry Christmas, everyone!!!    Mwah!

Today has been a frenzy of packing equipment and wigs, recharging batteries and radios, printing maps and confirmations, all in preparation for the trip to Virginia to bust the gold-digging, morally-challenged Carly.   Vonda is flying out tonight and will hopefully locate the boyfriend's residence and determine what he drives before I get there tomorrow.   Once I arrive, we'll establish surveillance on Virginia Boy and hold on for dear life. Everything's riding on finding and following him because Carly hasn't rented a car or a hotel room yet.  That means if we lose her at the airport then it's Game Over.  Pack Your Toys Up and Go Home.  That would be one very long and unpleasant plane ride.  Vonda probably wouldn't sit with me 'cause I can be downright ugly after an important surveillance gone bad. 

It always adds to the stress level when you're tailing someone in unfamiliar territory.  I'm totally in my element here.  I know the side roads and cut-throughs and hiding places.  I know where people like to ditch their cars,  where the popular make-out spots are, and basically where lovers go for a romantic encounter when they don't want to run into people they know.  By venturing out of Middle Tennessee I lose all those advantages.  The extent of my knowledge of Norfolk is how to get from the airport to the two places that Virginia Boy supposedly lives,  the place where he supposedly works, and the hotel that I've booked for Vonda and I.   BTW, I got a killer deal through Hotwire...a plush Oceanfront suite with an enormous balcony for $55 night.  The advertised room rate was $129.  I   Hotwire!    

The reason I'm staying behind and flying up tomorrow is because I'm following Carly tonight.  We caught her with yet another guy on Monday night.  A really cute, really rich guy.  Vonda thought he was HOTT!  Tonight Carly's supposed to hook up with Sugar Daddy.   Maybe she needs some traveling money?   If we're successful in Virginia then that'll bring the total number of men to FOUR...in two friggin' weeks.   Am I the only one that has started to think "Escort"? 

Anyhoo....I'm outa here.  Got to get packed before tonight's surveillance because I probably won't be coherent enough to do it in the morning.  Ugh.  I hate early morning flights. 

I swiped this cartoon from SoonerRose's site.  It made me think of Carly.   Four outlets.  Four guys?  Get it?  Okay.  Never mind.

11:40pm Edit:   I got her tonight!!  She's soooo busted.  Luckily, Sugar Daddy is a much better driver than she is.  We were constantly having to turn off to avoid running all over him during the rolling surveillance.  Terri thinks he was stalling until the Viagra kicked in.   (Yeah, Terri's a bit on the crude side but she's a RIOT to work with and she's not afraid to drive like Mario Andretti - always a plus in this line of work.)  They had a nice dinner and then went straight to his place.  The lights came on, the lights went off, and I came home.  Mission accomplished.  Now I've got to get serious about packing.  My flight leaves waaay early tomorrow.  Take care, all.  I'll be in touch.

STOP THE PRESSES!!   

It FINALLY Snowed in Middle Tennessee!!!

Okay, so it wasn't the butt-deep snow that I was hoping for

but it was something.  And it made my backyard beautiful!

It was enough to put plenty of people in the ditch. 

It's a well-known fact that Middle Tennesseans can't drive in the snow.

Rebecca took Jayden outside right after breakfast. 

He didn't want to stand in it at first.

And he wasn't too thrilled about sitting in it either.

Yeah, those are socks on his hands.

Poor gloveless kid.

This was Deuce's first snow, too.

He went absolutely bonkers!

OMG!  I DID IT!   I uploaded my first video!

<Happy Dance>

There's NO stopping me NOW!!!  

Jayden still isn't too sure about this whole thing.

Ta-Da!!  Look at me!!

Rest in Peace, Caylee Marie Anthony.

Finally.

As everyone has probably heard by now, the skeletal remains of a small child were found in a plastic bag yesterday.  The bag was found less than a 1/3 mile from the Anthony home, when a meter reader walked 30-40 feet into the wooded area to answer the call of nature.  How bizarre is that?   The cops say that particular area had not been searched because it had been underwater until just recently.  They're stopping short of saying that the remains are that of Caylee but they've sealed off the Anthony home as a crime scene and were last seen executing a search warrant.

I watched the news account and read the stories with mixed emotions:  sadness over the loss of this beautiful little girl's life; intense anger toward Casey Anthony; and sympathy for Caylee's grandparents and ugly truth that they must now face.   Mostly though, I felt relief.  Relief that her body has been found and can now be properly laid to rest, and relief in knowing that Casey Anthony won't get away with what she's done.   No more worries about whether or not the prosecutors can get a conviction without a body.  Game over, Casey.

I doubt anyone was surprised to hear about Caylee's body being recovered,  with the possible exception of Cindy Anthony.  She and hubby George were on Larry King Live last night proclaiming their rotten daughter's innocence, talking about the latest Caylee sightings in TN and CA, and blasting the cops for railroading poor Casey.  As a grandparent, I can understand to some degree what they're going through... desperately holding on to that one in a million chance that their beloved grandchild was still alive and waiting to be found.  For that, my heart goes out to them. 

The thing I have a problem with though is the constant yammering about what a wooonderful mother Casey is and how they're certain that she had nothing to do with her daughter's disappearance.  They both admitted in their interviews that Casey has a problem telling the truth.  About anything.  And everything.  They told about how she stole from them,  her brother, her grandparents, and even her daughter.  Cindy admits that Casey cleaned out both Caylee's piggy bank and the college fund that Grandpa George had set up for her.  That doesn't sound like a wonderful mom to me.  They both volunteered that she's very clever and conniving.  When confronted with the pictures of Casey partying like a rock star, pole dancing, and kissing another girl just days after the supposed "kidnapping", Cindy waved them off, saying "Casey was just acting like a normal 22 year old."   A  wonderful mom?  I don't think so.  And is that really how 22 year olds act nowadays?   I hope not.  

Rereading this post it sounds like I'm bashing the Anthonys and that wasn't my intention.  My heart breaks for what they must be going through right now.  Not only do they have to finally accept that they'll never see their grandchild again, they're going to have to come to terms with the fact that their daughter murdered her own child.   Right here at Christmas time.

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Lessons about Sugar Daddies and Gigilos

Several news stories lately have pointed to statistics  showing that new divorces filings are way down in light our troubled economic times.  They say people are choosing to tough it out until the future looks a little brighter for striking out on their own. 

I'm watching these reports carefully because they're talking about what comprises the majority of my business.  What I'm hearing and what I'm seeing are two different things though.  No one has told the unhappy couples in my area about the national trend of sucking it up and toughing it out. I've picked up five new cases in the last three days and am slowly moving toward panic mode.

I started the first case last night and can already tell that this one is gonna be a doozy,  and definitely blogworthy.  My client (Craig)  has a successful medical pratice.  He seems to be a wholesome, boy-next-door kind of guy who has been entirely too niave where his wife is concerned.  Carly is his opposite - she's a beautiful, loud, fast-driving, big-spending party animal.  Craig stays home with the kids while she goes out three or four nights a week.  Through her cell phone records and text messages we've been able to identify at least three different guys that she's messing with.  Now I have to get the video to prove it. 

One of the things that came out during our initial meeting was the fact that Craig didn't know where Carly got the $70K Mercedes that she's been driving for the past 10 months.  He wanted me to run the tag and see if the story she told was true.  When she first showed up with the brand new ride, she claimed that she was holding it "for a girlfriend" that didn't want to lose it in a divorce settlement.  Uh-huh, yeah, right.  I can remember stuttering out a variation of that same excuse when I was caught with stuff as a teenager.  "That's not my pot!  A friend was afraid of getting caught with it and must've stuck it in my purse!"   My grandmother didn't buy it, but my grandmother was a little sharper on the uptake than Craig.

After running a few record checks, phone numbers and some databases reports, I met with Craig this morning and laid it out:  The Mercedes is owned by a man with extremely deep pockets.  A man 25 years older than Carly.    And that very same man has been depositing between $5000 - $8000 per month into Carly's personal checking account for the last eight months.   Craig stared at me with a blank look on his face before asking,  "Why do you think he'd do all that?"   That launched an uncomfortable conversation that led to Craig learning more than he ever wanted to about the subjects of  Sugar Daddies and Quid Pro Quo. 

Craig is WAY mad now!  I've lit a fire under him.  In the last 12 hours he's started compiling records, documenting his findings in a journal, and accessing bank records online.  He has the makings of a dream client...one who's involved, helpful, and most importantly - can keep his mouth shut until the time is right.

Through Craig's newfound snooping abilities we've found a second, much younger, boyfriend in Virginia.  An interesting side note here:  When Carly gets together with that guy she picks up the tab for everything...the room, the food, the drinks.  Well, I guess Mr. Sugar Daddy is actually picking up the tab - in a roundabout way.   She's flying up to spend time with Mr. Gigilo next Thursday - Sunday.  What she doesn't know is that Vonda and I are flying up a day ahead of time and will be there waiting - with bells on and cameras rolling.   Muhahahaha!

I'm under the gun now and I've got to finish my Christmas shopping.  Guess that's what I get for dragging my feet.  I'm off to visit my subs and then to Amazon.com to spend too much money.   BTW, are any of you xanga buddies in the Virginia Beach area?   Lemme know!