Screwing things up
It was brought to my attention today that in the Aug. 31 issue of your paper, under something called Happytown™, a very insulting article was written about my tribe and myself. I was told, by you, that no article was going to be done. Instead, you give the assignment to someone who was so sarcastic that it was more fun to make fun of us rather than focus on the Indian Hills Park project.
I am so happy we did not invest into an ad with your toilet paper. After that article, I doubt anyone that read it would have helped in any way. Now we are losing the race to buy even these parcels. At least we tried something to help the community and you have destroyed the attempt. I hope you're pleased with yourself.
John Martello, Orlando
Kurt Spath is no joke
Boy am I glad I'm married! I would really hate to meet up with a guy like Kurt Spath `"No fat chicks," Jan. 4`. Is this guy for real? I read your article twice to make sure it wasn't a joke. Don't dating services check for major psychological problems during their screening process? At least all the single ladies out there know what he looks like, lest they be taken in by his considerable charm. He enjoys checking out tools at Home Depot, does he? Well, I suppose it takes one to know one.
Mary Beth Scott, DeLand
Don't ask us
In reference to the Free Will Astrology `Jan. 4` advice for Libra, if those rich attorneys do offer me $20,000 to deliver a cursed diamond to their shaman in Brazil for exorcism, here's what I'd do: I'd save that shaman the trouble of doing an exorcism on that cursed diamond by selling the diamond. I'd use the money I'd get for selling the diamond to produce James Cameron's great unmade science fiction epic Avatar, and I'd cast Angelina Jolie in the female lead as Zuleika. That way I'd be sure to meet Angelina Jolie!
Wes Pierce, Orlando
Hot young fundies
Billy Manes: I swear to God, reading your article brings out the type of perverse, giggle-at-the-squares-around-us, snarky humor that makes me wish I could take a gay pill and hang out with y'all.
Just imagine how many beehive-haired moms were trying to burn you with their stares and how many NASCAR dads wanted to give you a holy butt-kicking, except that you were four strong `Blister, Jan. 18.` All those nubiles dressed in their pedophile-designed F-me skirts shaking it. No irony there. Any 12-year-olds wearing shorts with 4-inch letters spelling "Jesus'" on the back begging folks to stare at their rumps? Surely Jehovah would be proud.
You have a true calling in writing about oddball Christian events. I love the fish-out-of-water perspective.
Run till you drop
Barbaro's death is a heartbreaking reminder that horses suffer and die in the racing industry. While Barbaro's plight made headlines, countless other lesser-known horses suffer similar fates, their broken legs and battered bodies hidden from the national spotlight. Thoroughbreds are accidents waiting to happen: Their legs are too long and fragile, they're forced to run while still young and growing and their injuries are often masked with drugs.
Forcing horses to run has lost most of its luster with the public. Attendance has plummeted at tracks all over North America and few tracks remain economically viable. Many are shifting their focus to slot machines in order to remain in business.
Jennifer O'Connor, via the Internetletters@orlandoweekly.com