Monthly Archives: January 2006

PittGirl cracks up.

I’m just going to tell you to go here and read this post on Deadspin.

I’d say more, but I’m too busy cleaning coffee off of my monitor.

Also, as the God of Football (all hail) as my witness, no more football posts until Friday. At least I’m going to try, damn it!

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Ken Rice! Bob Pompeani! Have I died and gone to heaven?!

As I mentioned, PittGirl headed to the Steelers Pep Rally on Friday, at which massive amounts of crazed Steelers fans turned out to offer virgin sacrifices to the Gods of Football.

The first hour or so was spent jamming to the tunes of the Burgh’s own Povertyneck Hillbillies, which rocked (photos here). You don’t need to like country music to appreciate lyrics like, “I may not be Mister Right, but I’m mister right now.” Okay, maybe you do. But those country boys sure know how to rock a Steelers jersey and cowboy hat.

Following their concert I was returning to my seat after a bathroom break when such a massive cheer went through the stadium that I was sure Elvis himself or at least Terry Bradshaw had ascended to the stage. I craned my neck to see……….


Yes, the Steelers faithful were so desperate for a reason to cheer that they were cheering for KDKA’s Bob Pompeani like he was a rock star. And in return, Bob did a few pointy poses while talking to the crowd. Kind of like this.

He was loving it.

And then when Ken Rice took to the other microphone stand … oh, my.

Apparently the Burghers are in love with his big bushy eyebrows because another cheer and mass waving of Terrible Ttowels rippled through the Stadium. “KEN RICE!!! Oh, my God. It’s KEN RICE! WOOOOOO! Ken Rice ROCKS! High five, dude!”

Couple those two with Dan Onorato and Bob O’Connor, and the four of them standing on stage and basking in the glory of the cheers suddenly looked like a middle-aged rock band. An AWESOME middle aged rock band. I don’t know about you, but I would pay some nice bucks to see Bob Pompeani on lead vocals, Ken Rice on the lead guitar, Danny O rocking on the drums and Bobby O tearing around the stage just smashing shit up with his medieval weapon.

I know what you’re thinking … awesome!

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This is a random football post.

As you know, PittGirl was not in the Burgh for the Denver game, but rather spent it at a Steelers party in a Mexican house in Cancun, Mexico, complete with Mexican people, Mexican food, wagering of Mexican pesos, a big Mexican dog, and commercials for the best Mexican bread … Bimbo. No lie.

However, NOTHING compares to watching a Steelers game in Pittsburgh. It is here where I feel safe flipping the hell out, standing on my wing chair and jumping until the springs snap. So all you people watching Steelers games around the country, try to get to the Burgh to watch one. For real.

Now, I know you won’t believe me, but prior to the coin toss, PittGirl called the game to be 34-17 Steelers. I am not making this up and I have witnesses. Obviously, I’ve found my new career as a sports score guesserer-er.

I am going to the rally at the stadium today with my entire family … I’ll be the lame-o dressed in business attire because I didn’t plan to go and don’t have a change of Steeler’s clothes like most dedicated fans keep in a special drawer in their offices.

This twixt city betting on football games is getting out of hand. Even the Opera honchos are in on it.

And finally … tell me this isn’t the MOST pissed off you have ever seen The Chin.

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Have you met my daughter Eighty-Six?

The next time you enter into a conversation about the insane names people give their children (I’m looking at you Apple Paltrow Martin, Rumer and Scout Willis, Khal-el Cage, Diezel and Denim Braxton, Hopper Penn and Homer Gere), be sure to include this one.

They named their son Seven after being inspired to “go numerical” after looking at an 84 Lumber sign.

Some thoughts:

1. Are you freakin’ kidding me?
2. This is a ripe money making opportunity. They need to have ANOTHER child, name it Eleven and then introduce their kids as “Seven Eleven.” I bet they could get free Slurpee’s and brain freeze for life.
3. If they get free Super Bowl tickets or some other outrageous gift from Ben Roethlisberger because they branded their son with a name that the child will NEVER live down (imagine the confusion when they cover the number seven in preschool), I am naming any future child of mine “Eighty-Six” in the hopes that Hines Ward will call me.
4. If you go here, you will see that Seven is classified as an “unusual” baby name. Right up there with the names Society and Strategy. Some people should obviously not be allowed to name their own children.

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I’m back, baby!

The Friday morning back from Mexico random thoughts:

1. I have eight newspapers to read. 8!
2. While I was away Cyril was indicted, the Steelers are going to the SuperBowl, they still don’t have maps in the pedestrian map stations, it is still cold here, Mario retired again, the Penguins were put up for sale, Woy returned with posting enmasse over at Grabass, and a quasi friend of David Conrad’s contacted me.
3. Mexico rocked as usual. Lots of stuff is still closed down from the hurricane that hit, but those Mexicans are rebuilding like loco. Of course Coco Bongo was still closed, and La Boom is never reopening … we were told. That sucks. We did get a chance to go into the shuttered Coco Bongo to see the work being done in there. Someone should really tell the Mexicans that breathing in tar fumes in tight spaces will knock years off of your life.
4. I hate flying … like you would not believe… but I do it because life was not meant to be experienced in one location alone (Man…I just… channeled Benny‘s writing…style!).
5. I got a girlie Chivas jersey for super cheap. So if you see a hot girl walking around the Burgh wearing a likely imitation Chivas shirt, jeans and flip flops (in the summer of course), you can bet your Steelers Super Bowl Champions ballcap that it is PittGirl. I am also getting me one of these!
6. Flying out of 85 degrees and into 20 degrees is harsh.
7. Much more posting later.

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