Have you ever heard of the RIM Division inside the City of Frisco? Yeah. Neither had we.

That is… until someone slid us a picture like it was a manila envelope in a 1970s conspiracy thriller. 📸 Cue the ominous music.

Turns out, RIM doesn’t stand for “Really Inconvenient Memories,” though judging by recent events, it might as well. Officially, RIM is the Records and Information Management Division, the quiet little corner of City Hall tasked with managing the City’s records in compliance with local, state, and federal laws. You know—paper trails, transparency, history, accountability. Small stuff.

According to a PDF we found tucked away on the City’s website (because of course it’s a PDF), the RIM Division is one of two divisions within the City Secretary’s Office, which oversees:

• City Elections
• Boards and Commissions
• Council Legislation
• Public Information Requests
• Records and Information Management
• Alcohol Permitting
• Lien Collections

That’s quite the grab bag. Democracy, booze, liens, and now—apparently—the great paper shredder of destiny.

What Does RIM Say It Does?

Straight from the City’s own description (translated from Bureaucratese to English): The RIM Division establishes and implements policies, procedures, and systems to manage city records. It trains city employees, manages records software, and oversees legal discovery. In other words: they decide what lives, what dies, and what mysteriously vanishes between fiscal years.

But Wait—Isn’t This Stuff Public?

Glad you asked. According to the Texas Municipal League (TML), public information includes any information that is:

• Written, produced, collected, assembled, or maintained
• By a governmental body
• For a governmental body
• Or by a government employee acting in their official capacity

And yes—this includes emails, electronic communications, documents on personal devices, and anything created “in connection with the transaction of official business.” Translation: If taxpayers paid for it, touched it, or breathed near it—it’s probably public.

Enter the Brochure of Doom

Here’s where things get… interesting. We were surprised (and that’s putting it mildly) to receive a photo of a brochure sent out by the RIM Division cheerfully titled something along the lines of: “4 Types of Records Eligible for Destruction in 2026!” Wait, what? It is a “How To” or a casting call for a low-budget disaster movie. The brochure lists records approved for destruction, including:

• Policies
• Procedures
• Speeches
• Papers
• Presentations
• Surveys

You know—the stuff residents might actually want to see.

Naturally, we went hunting for a clear list in the Texas Public Information Act that says, “Yes, thou shalt shred speeches and policies before citizens ask questions.” We couldn’t find one. Maybe it’s invisible ink. Maybe it’s stored in the same place as City transparency.

Transparent… Like a Brick Wall

Here’s the irony thick enough to clog the shredder: City leaders regularly remind us how transparent they are. Glass walls. Open government. Sunshine laws. The whole civic sermon. Yet somehow, at the same time, policies, procedures, presentations, and surveys—documents that explain how decisions are made—are being quietly greenlit for destruction.

Nothing says “trust us” quite like tossing records into the bureaucratic bonfire. To be clear, records retention laws exist for a reason. But when the City that prides itself on transparency starts asking, “What can we get rid of?” instead of “What should the public see?”—well, that raises more red flags than a Soviet parade.

So, here’s the real question for Frisco residents: If there’s nothing to hide, why is there such a rush to shred? Because in Frisco, it seems the motto might not be “Open for Business” anymore. It might be: “Approved for Destruction — 2026.”

Stay tuned. We’re not done digging through the recycling bin just yet.

Disclaimer: This blog includes satire, parody, and comic relief.  It contains summarized accounts created solely for humor and commentary.  Any resemblance to real events is either coincidental or intentionally satirical.  Reader discretion — and a sense of humor — are advised.