I hesitate to post this because I don't want it to seem like I live in Hillbillysville, but it's a slow news week so far here. Sinkholes are fairly common in upper-east Tennessee, what with the soluble aspects of limestone, and across from our house is one that's mostly owned by this family we call "The Angel Babies" due to the little girls having curly, puffy yellow hair when they were growing up (of course now they're sullen, bed-headed teens clad in the finest polyblends Wet Seal offers). The Angel Baby dad likes to hunt - there's a full-camo pickup parked in front of the house - and in turn practices hunting, which makes every day a new opportunity to see whether Barney the deer, perched precariously on the edge of the sinkhole, is headless or headed:

Headless it is! You can just glimpse Barney's detachable head there to the right of the body, and if my zoom lens weren't so crappy you could see the arrow in it.