It's no secret there's something in the water here in Florida that makes people lose their grip on reality. Maybe it's the toothless drug-addled whores on OBT or the wannabe hipsters on Church Street; more than likely Central Florida is just a magnet for doltish douchebags.

Some 46-year-old soused numnut in DeLand found himself in a screaming match with his old-as-dirt mom on Saturday. Turns out he decided to get even with the old bag by chunking a three-pound bag of Polish sausages at her. (Probably the first stiff one she'd seen in a while.)

We're guessing he'd planned on a weinie feast before mom pissed in his Wheaties. He was in the kitchen frying up some mystery dish when the cops showed up. (Apparently not the projectile dogs though since those were still on the sofa.)

Good hello,

We love you.  We really do.  We here at Orlando Weekly want you to know that we're here for you.  You're so adorable, and we'd love to make out with you, but what we really want to do is just listen.

We know, we haven't always been the best listeners in the past, but we can change, baby.  We know you've been trying to get through to us, but sometimes it just seemed like we weren't there.  But don't give up on us so easily. Talk to us, baby.  Let us know what's on your mind.  Open up to us, and it'll be magic again, just like it used to be. 

We've set everything up so you can comment, even anonymously, on all our stories, reviews, and blog posts.  You don't have to tell us who you are to tell us what you think.  And you may have noticed that the column previously known as "Mail Sack" is now called "Comments".  That's right - if you've got something to say, tell us here on our website, and it might even end up published in our print issue.  You do still think our print issues are sexy don't you?

And hey, if you don't want to open up to us here, with everyone else watching (we know sometimes you're shy) then you can send us email any time.  You can also send us an old-fashioned letter if you want, but you should probably know we forgot to pick up stamps, even though you reminded us three times already.

Just give us another try, darling.  You know we've got something special here.  You could be the one.

Trophy stunt (n. phrase): A stunt or practical joke performed for the sole purpose of winning a trophy.

This particular vernacular has come into being because of certain, shall we say, developments in the Rock Star Bowling League. 

For those that aren't aware, RSBL is the absolute pinnacle of hipster cool in Central Florida.  It's a bi-weekly bowling league, now in it's seventh season, that brings together teams from various nightlife spots around town.  I bowl on Team Pabst, for instance.  Orlando Weekly has fielded a team for the last few seasons, calling themselves the Spanish Pinquisition.  Bar B Que Bar has a team, Crooked Bayou has a team, and so forth.  If you have any friends downtown, chances are you know some people that bowl in the Rock Star league.

At the end of each season, trophies are awarded, and not just for bowling performance.  Of course, the top three teams get sweet trophies, and the worst male and female bowlers get pins autographed by everyone in the league.  But there are also trophies for "Most Shots Consumed," "Team Spirit," "Most likely to pass out," and so forth.

During the last couple of seasons, players have been going to great lengths to outdo one another to win these coveted trophies, often with hilarious consequences.  This gives rise to the "trophy stunt" phenomenon.  One season, the first-place trophy was stolen and held for ransom; it even got its own myspace page.  We've had people streak naked through the bowling alley to rounds of thunderous applause.  It goes on and on.

Last night, for instance, the Citrus teams bowled dressed as Catholic priests and nuns.  Now, I'm all for creative expression, but this was definitely a trophy stunt, not a trophy stunt.  Here's the Pope taking a shot:



They promise theme costumes for each of the next four league nights.  We'll see if they have the wherewithall to follow through.  It ain't a proper trophy stunt if you don't take it a little too far. 

What a couple of days it was. A sigh of relief -- The Hillary was out -- followed by rapturous proclamations that a new day has finally come.

What a letdown.

Sen. Barack Obama has done absolutely zero in his first month of the general election except pander to the right, set himself up for accusations of flip-floppery and devote brain space to attacking McCain -- a special spot in a politician's brain that tingles at the mention of 'weak spots' -- that it seems Obama wasn't born with.

And he's been nothing but disappointing to his fans.

My analysis after el jumpo:

read the full post here.