For longer than I’ve lived in Central Florida, there’s been this quiet optimism that there could one day be a Summer Olympics right in Mickey Mouse’s back yard. There have been plenty of proposed ideas of how it could happen – from using Disney’s seemingly endless property on a loaner to a joint venture between Orlando and Tampa with facilities all along Interstate 4 – and none of them would ever work in a million years. But every time the International Olympics Committee meets to choose future summer sites, people in Florida start buzzing.

And the point of this edition of “Cool story, bro” is that hosting the Olympic games is severely overrated because cities just don’t make any money anymore. Back in 2010, city officials in Chicago spent $50 million just to bid on hosting the Olympics in 2016. Had their bid been accepted, Chicagoans would have been on the hook for $5 billion in up front expenses. Luckily, the bid wasn’t accepted, as Chicago didn’t even make it past the first round, so *flush noise* to that $50 million.

Not everything is doom and gloom, though. Atlanta proved that there is life after the Olympics by turning all of its event venues into state-of-the-art facilities for the city’s current sports teams – the Olympic Stadium is Turner Field, for example. Perhaps it would have been nice if someone had sent that blueprint to the folks in Beijing, as some people recently asked the question, “Hey, what happened to all of those venues the Chinese constructed to host the 2008 Summer Olympics and cost the country an absurd, record-setting $48 billion?”

Oh, they’re just chilling. Presumably holding a ton of brand new wigs.

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It is being reported today that American Olympic swimming hero Michael Phelps, winner of 8 gold medals at the 2008 Summer Olympics, is dating a Canadian. While competing at the Canada Cup recently, Phelps was seen holding hands with Ashley Firestone, who is undoubtedly Canadian intelligence and looking to flip Phelps. Even worse, it is believed that the couple has been together for at least the past two years, while Phelps was making us believe that he was dating quality, wholesome American beauty queens and Las Vegas bar staff.

According to the Daily Mail:

‘Their relationship started a little over two years ago when they met staying at the same hotel in South Beach over New Years,’ the insider said.

‘Ashley [Who has a boy's name - Ed.] has always been concerned with showing Michael that she would keep their relationship on the down-low and private first and foremost.’

‘She stayed with Michael at Hotel Auberge Universel for the whole weekend and even got VIP tickets to his race for her and her friends’

Phelps was recently linked to a few other women – American women – including Miss California USA 2009 Carrie Prejean, who caused a stir with her opposition to gay marriage a few years back, but more recently her successor, Miss California USA 2010 Nicole Johnson. While I can’t fault Phelps for doing the damn thing, to borrow a Doritos-stained phrase from Jason Whitlock, I must warn that if Canada continues to use its women as weapons against our most prominent athletes, we will have no choice but to send Antonio Cromartie and Travis Henry after them.

In the meantime, here’s a brief look back at Phelps’ past conquests. I recommend you listen to Sarah McLachlan’s “I Will Remember You” for best results.

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Kenyan Olympic marathon champion Sammy Wanjiru is dead, having jumped from a balcony after a domestic dispute with his wife and another woman. National police spokesmen are saying it was a “fact of the matter” suicide, but his agent says it wasn’t. Here’s a quick recap from a local official.

“Wanjiru came home with another woman friend at around 11:30 p.m. and then when his wife came home and found them she inquired who the lady was,” area police chief Jasper Ombati said. “They got into an argument. His wife locked them in the bedroom and ran off.

“He then jumped from the bedroom balcony. He is not here to tell us what he thinking when he jumped. We do not suspect foul play. In our estimation we think he wanted to stop his wife from leaving the compound.”

The interesting thing about THAT (besides the fact that a Kenyan Olympic champion killed himself after being caught cheating on his wife, I mean) is that the balcony is being described as “13 to 19 feet high.” I’m not an Olympian, but I’m fairly certain I could survive a 13 foot drop. There’s an entire thing in The Dark Knight where Eric Roberts is all, “a fall from this height won’t kill me!” and Batman is counting on that and throws him off the fire escape. And that brings up further questions, such as “why did he think doing this would stop his wife from leaving the compound,” and, “how did his wife lock them in the bedroom, or maybe I don’t understand how Kenyan houses work.”

Regardless, a promising, gifted young athlete is dead for an absolutely ridiculous reason, and that’s a shame. People always say “it doesn’t make sense” when somebody dies, and for once, they’re really right.

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Good news for people looking for that special Olympic souvenir: There’s a block of about 5,000 condoms that were snatched up by a collector, who’s hoping to turn a profit with them at an upcoming auction. And just in time for Christmas.

100,000 condoms were distributed during the games, with this guy somehow ending up with 5% of them. His wildly optimistic plans for getting laid fell short, and now you can have these condoms for a mere 5,000 yuan ($730) minimum bid.

The auction, very tastefully named the “Exceptional Auction of China Sport Collection,” will take place November 29th. With each condom possibly going for just 14 cents, that’s a great value. –AFP, via Sports Rubbish.

Honestly, I hate condoms, and I think women do, too. If she really wanted to feel that level of rubberized protection, she can go out to the driveway and hump the tires on my Hyundai. They have extra treads, you know, for her pleasure. And also for superior handing in wet conditions. Same thing, really.

Logan Campbell competed in the Taekwando event in the Beijiing Olympics, but he’s spending his offseason recovering just like any other guy…aside from the fact that he’s opened up a brothel in his native country, which recently decriminalized prostitution.

His own costs leading up to Beijing totalled some NZ$150,000 (£58,000) [About $94K US --Ed.], much of it provided by his hard-working parents, Campbell noted.

To take the financial strain from his parents Campbell has gone into partnership with Hugo Philiips, a 20-year-old accountancy graduate, to set up what the pair insist is a “high-class” escort agency.
He hopes to take a couple of years off to work full-time on the new venture, before returning to training in 2011 with a NZ$300,000 Olympic kitty.

He said “kitty.” But Campbell insists that’s he’s not a pimp.

“Pimps are more tough-type guys. I’m an owner of an escort agency.”

Whatever, pimp. You just keep on pimpin’. The guy that beat Campbell went on to win the bronze, for whatever that’s worth. Hopefully Campbell’s mat technique will not have eroded from chops and kicks to backhand face slaps and varied utterances of “Bitch better have my money.” But if that’s where he works, where does he go to totally abuse some random woman? Olive Garden? Yeah, it’s late in the day. I got nothin’.

|via So Much For College|

This is Dara Torres, whom you’ll remember for swimming in the Beijing Olympics. And winning three silver medals. At the age of 41. And now, she’s talking about competing in the London Games in 2012. She’d be 45 by then, but it’s always good form to not inquire about a woman’s age; nothing kills a hardon like basic math, except maybe a massive forehead and veins protruding out of your hands. You know, if you’re not into that sort of thing.

When Bob Costas asked if she was ruling out 2012, Torres said, “I’ve learned to never say never. … I love competing. … I’m still improving, so why not keep going until I’ve hit my peak?”

Why not keep going until I’ve hit my peak? I tried this line in high school all the time and it never worked for me. But then, I wasn’t much of a swimmer. Those orange arm floaties aren’t really conducive to getting laid. So in that sense, they might have been the greatest birth control device ever.

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