1. I said “slippy” twice yesterday. I NEVER say “slippy” mostly due to the fact that when I went to college I made a very intentional effort to lose my Burgh accent and to banish certain words from my vocabulary. Words like gumband, buggy, yinz, redd up, pop, slippy. I got tired of the odd looks, ya know?
That was then. This is now. Once you leave the Burgh and come back, you come back more of a Burgher than when you left. You come back and you EMBRACE those words and you throw them around proudly. I am a Burgher. Hear me raw-wer!
So while I unintentionally almost never use Burgh words in my everyday speaking, yesterday, slippy just kept slipping out.
I think maybe subconsciously I’m honoring the late, great Myron Cope and that very inherent, lovable, embraceable Burghiness that he carried in his heart and proudly let be heard by anyone that was fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of his spoken word.
Two things that Burghers far and wide are emailing me:
- We must get our Terrible Towels out of our closets and fly them now.
- There must be a statue.
2. EDIT: Darn it! It’s been removed.
Square peg. Round hole. Date with PittGirl.
It made me laugh, you guys.
3. I wonder, can I hire this guy to follow me around everywhere I go? “There’s a pigeon, sir. There’s a pigeon. There’s five pigeons. There’s a pigeon pecking at my eyeball. There’s a pigeon trying to take a camera phone picture up my skirt.”
(h/t The Mysterious M)
4. So a casting agency was fired from the Shelter movie for seeking people to populate a fictional town with a “West-Virginia holler” feel. Particularly, they were looking for odd-looking children and people with an “inbred” look about them.
Too bad, because I had JUST THE GUY!
OMG. I’m kidding, minions. I’m. Just. Kind. Of. Not. Kidding.
(h/t DW, BagitTagit, and unsatisfied)
5. I can’t help but wonder if maybe Snowman committed suicide.
6. March 20. That will be the day I walk out of the house in a cardigan, walk back in my house, take off my cardigan, hang it up, grab another from my closet and put that cardigan on. I’ll zip it up with a flourish and a poorly sung ditty about you totally need to be my neighbor, yo! Then I’m going to feed my fish that I don’t have, make a telescope with construction paper, freak out when Lady Elaine Freakin’ Demon Fairchild blinks at me, and wrap it all up nicely by teaching my dog a life lesson about the importance of washing one’s paws after playing in a puddle of his sister’s pee.
Won’t YOU be my neighbor?