By Alleen Brown
By Maggie LaMaack
By CP Staff
By Jesse Marx
By Jesse Marx
By Maggie LaMaack
By Jake Rossen
Is there a doctor in the house? That's the question John Hoffman, a veteran boxer and fight promoter, asked at a recent event at the Myth Nightclub in Maplewood. Under state law, a licensed physician must be on hand for all state-sanctioned boxing and mixed martial arts bouts.
Apparently Minnesota Boxing Commissioner and former heavyweight title contender Scott LeDoux didn't appreciate this line of inquiry. According to Hoffman, the "Fighting Frenchman" responded by grabbing his beer, crumpling the plastic cup, and dumping the liquid on him. LeDoux then ordered security to remove Hoffman from the building.
"I was insulted and assaulted just for inquiring," Hoffman says. "I don't know what I've done to Scott LeDoux to piss him off, but he definitely has it out for me."
Rather than go quietly, however, Hoffman called the cops. According to an incident report taken by the Maplewood Police Department, LeDoux had already left the nightclub by the time officers arrived. No charges were filed stemming from the altercation.
LeDoux says that there was a doctor present at the event and that Hoffman was simply drunk. "I didn't dump a beer on him," he says. "He dumped it on himself." — Paul Demko
Say you want to defile your own patch of the greater Winona area with a brand-new McMansion. You've got options. And these options, it so happens, hate each other.
It started late last year, when McCorquodale called Ellefson to demand that he change his company website, homeswinona.com, which McCorquodale claimed was siphoning his customers by virtue of the similarity to his own site's domain, winonahomesinc.com.
McCorquodale says his efforts ended in a shakedown attempt: $15,000, and the site would be gone. Instead of ponying up, McCorquodale filed a federal "cybersquatting" lawsuit.
For his part, Ellefson says the whole thing has been "blown way out of proportion." He declines comment on the alleged demand for cash, but insists he never tried to steal his competitor's customers. "I build homes in Winona," he says. "I was just looking for something easy to remember and spell." — Jonathan Kaminsky
Rush City citizens challenged their City Council last week to defend them from cats in heat.
Feral, sex-starved felines have been spraying everything in town. "My house smells like the neighborhood litter box," protested one local.
The sprayer-haters suggested the city call in the Animal Ark Neuter Commuter—a mobile feline de-sexing unit that will roll into town if you trap at least 50 offenders.
Start trapping, Rush City—winner gets to drive the Neuter scooter! — Jeff Severns Guntzel
The building formerly known as US Bancorp Center at 225 South Sixth is one of the most distinctive in our skyline. With a metallic-blue hue and half-circle crown, its appearance has been compared to everything from the Stanley Cup to a giant ashtray.
So what should we call it? We asked readers and received mounds of suggestions. We've narrowed the field down to eight. Go to http://polls.citypages.com/buildingpoll/ and vote for your favorite:
¬ The Halo Building
¬ Milk Can Tower
¬ The Crown Tower
¬ God's Ashtray
¬ UFO Building
¬ The Broken Halo
¬ The Stanley Cup Building