THE DUMP — JULY 25, 2025
Your weekly look at the weird, the wild, and Williamson County.
Hey neighbor! Welcome back to your weekly look at the weird, the wild, and Williamson County.
This week, we’re ankle-deep in sewage math, Macron melodrama, and a burger-fueled border breach. Chaz Molder’s eyeing a promotion, Mark Green is starting a company made of syllables, and Spring Hill finally hit the flush limit.
Are you ready?
Let’s dump it out.
🚽 WHERE THE SEWER FAIRY FINALLY SAID “NO”
For years, Spring Hill’s growth strategy was simple: build fast, flush faster, and pray the pipes held. But now the town's only wastewater treatment plant is waving a brown flag of surrender.
Originally designed to handle 5 million gallons of waste per day, the system is already choking on four. And if you believe the planning department’s Magic 8 Ball, they’re headed toward 10 MGD—meaning there’s more development coming than the Duck River can diplomatically absorb.
Now city leaders are doing what they always do when the consequences arrive: holding a meeting.
At recent Board of Mayor and Aldermen sessions, terms like “moratorium,” “capacity shortfall,” and “raw sewage backup” started floating around like so many mystery bubbles in a backed-up manhole. Alderman Vincent Fuqua tried to stay calm, assuring residents that “Spring Hill’s challenges are not unique.” That’s technically true—plenty of towns have ignored infrastructure in favor of ribbon cuttings. But most of them haven’t just admitted they might need to shut down sewer taps because the toilets are full.
Mayor Matt Fitterer, who has the unenviable task of explaining poop math in public, told WKRN: “Raw sewage is going into the plant. The plant’s not large enough to accommodate. You get backups in all kinds of nasty places.” Inspirational stuff.
And don’t forget the previous plant director, who got caught doctoring reports with White-Out to cover up violations. Nothing says “robust system oversight” like 8th-grade forgery techniques applied to ammonia readings.
So what’s the fix?
It’s a $250 million bet. Enter Project SWIFT, a futuristic water purification scheme that basically boils down to: take sewer water, treat it with ozone, UV light, and probably magic — then reintroduce it to the public via Duck River and a shiny new reservoir.
In the meantime, developers are sweating, residents are funding the cleanup, and BOMA is hoping no one asks the obvious: how did it get this bad in the first place?
WW BOTTOM LINE:
Spring Hill isn’t unique. But it is the perfect Tennessee cautionary tale: Grow first. Plan later. And if all else fails, just SWIFT it.
🍔 BURGER BARONESS BUSTS OUT: SEE YA, CALIFORNIA
The mass exodus from California continues — and this time, it’s animal style. Meet Franklin’s newest neighbor: In-N-Out CEO and billionaire burger queen Lynsi Snyder, who’s bailing on the Golden State and heading straight for the land of lower taxes and lower blood pressure.
Why’s she leaving?
“Raising a family is not easy here. Doing business is not easy here.”
Translation: In California, you need a permit to make eye contact with your own employees, and the thermostat reports directly to Gavin Newsom.
But don’t worry — she’s not coming alone. In-N-Out is planting a brand-new regional office in Franklin, part of their big southern expansion. We’re not saying we bribed her with sweet tea and property rights… well, maybe we did.
And how did California handle the breakup? They were totally understanding.
Just kidding — they absolutely lost their minds.
X was full of rants. Reddit lit up with boycotts. Vegan bloggers accused her of betraying the oat milk revolution. It was a full-on meltdown, and not the kind you can order with grilled onions.
Now, Snyder isn’t the first to jump ship. She joins a well-funded caravan of defectors that includes Elon Musk, Larry Ellison, Joe Lonsdale, and every other tech bro who figured out that paying 13% income tax for the privilege of living next to a Walgreens tent city may not be “worth it.”
Let’s be clear: Lynsi’s not selling out. She’s just moving the family and a burger-flipping operation toward a state where “small business owner” isn’t a slur.
And if you're worried Tennessee’s about to get California'd? Relax.
WW BOTTOM LINE:
Welcome to Tennessee, Lynsi. You’ll fit right in — half of California already lives here.
Just don’t give us nonfunctional straws or ask us to compost the napkins.
And now? We’re full.
🏃♂️ DEMOCRACY’S GENTLE JOGGER CONSIDERS THE HILL
Chaz Molder is hanging up his mayoral running shoes—but don’t think he’s slowing down. The two-term Columbia mayor, attorney, youth council guy, and father of three just announced he won’t be seeking a third term.
But before anyone gets misty-eyed, let’s cut to the chase: he’s strongly considering a 2026 run for Congress in Tennessee’s 5th District—yes, the one currently occupied by boots-with-suits enthusiast and hot mic magnet Andy Ogles.
Molder, a Democrat, built a nice little resume on public schools, youth programs, and keeping Columbia charming. Now he says it might be time for “a new chapter.” That chapter may involve campaign buses and donor calls. Also, here’s a polite reminder that—if you're Googling him like we did—he's not the Australian race car driver. Different Chaz. Less helmet, more handshake.
WW BOTTOM LINE:
No official launch yet, but with Ogles in office, Molder might figure the bar’s low and the moment’s ripe. Columbia’s gonna need a new mayor, and TN-5 may have another name on the ballot.
Gentlemen, start your engines.
🇫🇷 MACRONS VS. MUSIC CITY. OH, BEHAVE!
The President of France and his wife are suing a woman from Nashville because she keeps calling the First Lady Jean-Michel.
That woman is Candace Owens, and she says Brigitte Macron is actually a man, possibly her own brother, and absolutely hiding something—though what exactly depends on the day and the episode.
In response, the Macrons did the only thing you can do when a conservative influencer from Tennessee starts throwing punches across the Atlantic: they sued her in Delaware.
The lawsuit runs 219 pages and accuses Owens of defamation, humiliation, and turning Brigitte Macron into a meme. It includes references to her podcast Becoming Brigitte, to merch that labeled the First Lady “MAN OF THE YEAR,” and to Owens’ repeated demands for blood samples and baby pictures, and a full investigation into how a woman can have such broad shoulders and still enjoy croissants.
Owens now lives in Nashville. She was welcomed by the Tennessee legislature with an official resolution. And now she’s broadcasting to millions, questioning Brigitte’s identity — all while staring down the camera with the confidence of someone who’s never met a French lawyer.
WW BOTTOM LINE:
The Macrons want silence.
Owens wants to be louder.
And likely somewhere, just south of I-40, Austin Powers is buttoning his ruffled shirt and checking his teeth in a mirror.
“Do I make you litigious, baby?”
💼 PROMISOS: FROM SADDAM TO SYNERGY
Mark Green has stepped into a bold new chapter of public service: making money.
The big reveal? Promisos, LLC.
According to Green, Promisos is a global business development firm that will offer “strategic consulting,” help companies expand internationally, trade commodities, connect people to capital, and unlock profitability.
This isn’t a business model — it’s a verb-noun salad. It sounds like someone fed a chatbot every MBA buzzword from the last 15 years and then hit “Surprise Me.” You forgot “Synergize Synergy,” Mark.
What we do know is that Green will serve as President and CEO. Which makes sense — it’s his company. And if this thing goes the way most post-Congress LLCs go, he’ll spend the next five years bouncing between overseas trade junkets and “private client” retreats in Aspen while billing hourly for thoughts he had in the shower.
The timing is… impeccable. Green has quietly exited stage right, leaving the 7th District to scramble through a chaotic special election cycle, while he launches a firm with seemingly no office, no staff, and no visible services — just the reputation of a man who once did battlefield trauma surgery and interrogated Saddam Hussein.
For all we know, Promisos could be importing wheat, exporting fertilizer, investing in water rights, or ghostwriting keynote speeches for defense contractors who want to sound more “values-based.” Or maybe it’s just a soft landing spot for a guy who knew when to leave the circus before the tent collapsed.
And look, we’d love to tell you more — but that’s all we’ve got.
A name. Some keywords. And a lingering sense of abandonment.
WW BOTTOM LINE:
Mark Green went out for a pack of cigarettes and never came back.
What’s Promisos? Nobody really knows. And we’re starting to think that’s the point. But hey — it sounds lucrative. Global. Strategic. Mysterious.
PROMISOS. No promises. Also no forwarding address.
🍣 FINE. WE’LL TALK ABOUT IT
We’ve been sitting on this one for a while. Not because it’s a secret—Mi Kitchen is packed most nights—but because, honestly, it’s just that good. And when something is that good, part of you wants to keep it to yourself a little longer.
But here we are.
Mi Kitchen is tucked into what used to be the old Moe’s BBQ in Cool Springs, though you’d never guess it. They’ve renovated the place and given it an energy that feels more like Seoul meets New York—without the attitude or price tag.
Chef Brendan Yun, his partner Nick Rho, and Nick’s wife Tori are the kind of people who make you feel like you’ve walked into the restaurant they’ve been dreaming about for years—because you have. They’re warm. They’re focused. And they’re running one of the most consistent, thoughtful kitchens anywhere in Williamson County.
The food? You won’t need to guess. You’ll know with the first bite.
The tuna, plated beside those crispy rice cakes? Flawless. The bulgogi taco? Ridiculous. The K-pop chicken? Devoured before you realize it hit the table. And the octopus? That’s the dish you talk about a week later.
The drinks are legit. The bar’s a great hang. The Japanese IPA is one of those things you order “just to try” and then end up texting your friends about.
So yeah—we’re telling you now. Go. Just do us a favor: don’t take our seat.
🌀 FINAL FLUSH: ON THE EDGE OF TRUST
Yesterday’s segment raised serious concerns about financial mismanagement at the Heritage Foundation of Williamson County. The details were substantial, and the reaction was immediate.
Today isn’t for determining innocence or guilt. That’s not the role of the public, and it’s certainly not the role of social media. But the questions are on the table now, and fair-minded people are waiting for clear answers.
Since then, the underlying file referenced in the story has become even more available to the public. It’s extensive. And for anyone taking the time to review it, it offers more context—and in places, more serious allegations—than could be covered in a single post.
While the public digests that, it’s worth stepping back to consider the larger implications—because no matter what the outcome is, this is a pivotal moment.
The Heritage Foundation has played a central role in Franklin’s story. It helped lead the revitalization of Main Street. It saved the Franklin Theatre. It preserved over 150 acres of Civil War battlefield land, and restored the Old, Old Jail. And through festivals like Dickens of a Christmas, PumpkinFest, and the Heritage Ball, it brings an estimated $10 million into the local economy each year.
These accomplishments are real—and they shouldn’t be forgotten. But they’re not immune to scrutiny either.
Because trust is fragile. When it breaks, nonprofits lose more than donations. They lose the confidence that allows them to operate: community buy-in, collaborative support, public presence. And once that confidence erodes, even good work struggles to stand.
That’s the risk now. Not just to reputation. But to trust itself.
If everything is in order, a clear accounting will affirm that. If mistakes were made, a path to correction still exists. But any path forward has to begin with full transparency.
The mission—historic preservation, cultural education, civic engagement—still matters. And the track record proves what’s possible. But this is the point where mission and management have to align.
Franklin values its history. It also values its integrity.
This is a moment that calls for both.
Thanks for reading, friends. That’s it for this week’s edition of The Dump.
We’ll be back next Friday with more sewage, lawsuits, and civic absurdity from the heart of Tennessee.
Stay cool, Williamson. ❄️