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COLUMN

Happytown: The Republican National Convention edition

We went to the RNC in Tampa and all we got was this lousy story to tell; the Sentinel's premature ejaculation over Mitt Romney's acceptance speech

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So, dear readers, what was your favorite part of the Republican National Convention? (Besides Clint Eastwood's performance art, of course, which was either the first sign of Dirty Harry's senility or the best punking in the history of American politics.) Paul Ryan's astoundingly fact-free oratory? That time Mike Huckabee accused Barack Obama of being pro-infanticide? Ann Romney's rich-lady condescension? Mitt Romney's excursion in passionless nothings?

If you ask us – and you just did, right? – our answer would be none of these. No, our best moment of the RNC in Tampa happened on Monday, before the festivities commenced, when your favorite column damn near shocked the political universe by (almost) winning Washington Post columnist Chris Cillizza's Politics & Pints quiz event, only half of which was actually politics.

By the end of the fourth round, thanks to our trusty iPhone (everyone else was cheating, too, you guys) we were in first place! As in, ahead of Team NBC (suck it, Chuck Todd) and the guys from the Daily Telegraph in London, because we know stuff like the name of the teenage vixen in Lolita (Dolores) and the last time Wisconsin voted for a Republican in a presidential election (1984). But then, the iPhone died. And more importantly – because we were only cheating a little, cross our hearts – we had to name second- and third-tier presidential candidates from years past (have you ever heard of Lee L. Mercer Jr.?) based on a photo lineup of high school yearbook-style mug shots. The goddamn Brits proved good at that. So did Chuck Todd. We did not and plummeted to fourth place.

This is the kind of Important Journalism™ your humble scribes set off to engage in – not the pomp and circumstance of the convention itself, because we could watch that on TV without being surrounded by so many smug assholes, but the ancillary parties and strange events that always surround political mega-events. For the handful of you who didn't follow our madcap adventures on Bloggytown, here's a quickie recap:

We rolled into town on Monday evening, and after settling in and liquoring up, made our way first to the aforementioned Politics & Pints and then, more importantly, to Nuestra Noche, the big-shit event of the night featuring Jeb and Marco Rubio, designed to show the world that the GOP is really, truly down with the browns. So we cabbed our way over to Ybor City, only to find, um, a line of dilapidated ball gowns and sweaty suits circling the block. It was an overcrowded clusterfuck of epic proportions. Oh, and Jeb never showed.

We ended up down the street at the New World Brewery, where a giant blow-up Romney was debating a homeless-looking man prattling on about dental care. Swear to God.

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