Whenever I go to the liquor store, which, since I have a nine-month-old, is often, I wonder about that Bad and Busted newspaper.

Whose idea was it to create a publication filled solely with mugshots? Why would I pay $1 to browse a gallery of reprobates when I can see the same thing for free at Thanksgiving? And what about the people in the paper, especially the college students who got nabbed for, essentially, being 20 years old and stupid? What's it like to be pictured alongside meth dealers and sex offenders, and to have one of the worst days of your life distributed all over town? Finally, why do some of the people in the paper look so happy and proud, like they're on vacation? Don't they know they're being arrested?

The man behind Bad and Busted, who has built his business naming names, wants to remain anonymous due to calls he receives from the people he's featured. But death threats and lawsuits aren't the worst part of the business.

"The rich are the worst," he tells me. "I get calls all the time from people looking to buy their way out of the paper. I tell them no, they're in there along with everyone else. They'll say they want to buy my whole weekly run of 8,000 papers. Or they'll follow the delivery drivers to the store and buy 'em up there. We've had people waiting for us, ready to intercept them."

If the author's daughter appeared in Bad and Busted, it'd look something like this.

The public-domain mugshots come from area police websites and are repackaged by the publisher to sell in 20 counties. Does he have any qualms about profiting from other people's mistakes, or think about how inclusion in the paper affects their lives?

"Call Prince Harry and ask him," he laughs, referring to the compromising photos of the royal. "Some people think it's funny, a badge of honor. This bartender, he ordered a bunch to autograph and sell for three dollars each. Other people are embarrassed. But hey, don't be stupid. You're peeing in a doorway? Go find a bathroom. Put me out of business.

"I think I'm doing people a favor, like a public service. If I had an employee who stole a truck, or I lived next door to a drug dealer, I'd want to know. Lots of our readers work in the judicial system. Cops and parole officers. They'll see people wanted in one county showing up arrested in another county. It helps them keep track of 'em."

I ask him which county has the most interesting criminals. "Well, Clarke County's the biggest, so probably them," he says. "But Jackson County's doing a good job. Barrow, too."

As for why some people smile? "I don't know. Maybe they're trained to do it when they see a camera. Or maybe they think it's funny."

Jennifer Sovik definitely didn't think it was funny. When the 22-year-old UGA student was arrested recently for DUI, her smile helped her stay calm.

"I was already in trouble," she remembers. "I was over the limit and deserved the consequences. At that point, there was nothing I could do except try to get something out of the experience. Remember it, learn from it. People around me were freaking out, but I wanted to be clear-headed about the situation."

I don't support drunk drivers nor feel like Sovik's arrest was unwarranted nor that she deserves our sympathy. Shame on you, Jennifer Sovik. You could have killed someone. On the other hand, I remember the abysmally stupid things I did when I was a college student. I shudder to think what would have happened if the Internet had been around to preserve my foolishness in digital amber, or if I'd woken up to find my face in the paper next to a child molester.

"The Red and Black was the worst," Jennifer says, referring to an article about the arrest. "They said I was unavailable for comment, but they never even tried to contact me. That's why I want to talk with you. I have an opinion to share.

"What I did was stupid, but Bad and Busted serves no purpose other than making people laugh. The people in there, it's affecting their lives. I'm a business marketing major with a job and a ton of extra-curricular activities. I volunteer. I've never been in trouble before. Now my family, friends, employer and classmates, they all know about it. But I think it's made people sympathetic towards me. They hate what I did, but they're like, 'Oh, how terrible,' when they see the paper."

Jennifer's advice to fellow criminals? 'Fess up immediately. "Don't wait until your boss or teacher sees you. Be honest, and go and tell them about it."

Will Jennifer clean up her act and go on to run a Fortune 500 company, or devote herself instead to a lifetime of drinking two margaritas before driving home? Whichever path she chooses won't be because of her experience in Bad and Busted. "That paper isn't a crime deterrent," she says, somberly. "Reality is the deterrent."

What makes you say, "WTH? Athens"? Email it to [email protected].