1. I went to the Waterfront on Saturday night to enjoy dinner at PF Changs with Ohio Sister, Pens Fan and Mother of PittGirl because really, we don’t have enough girls nights out.
The highlight of my evening was not the kickass seven dollar sunglasses I found, nor was it when Ohio Sister, who had not eaten all day, drank two sips of a Plum Collins and got a good enough buzz for her to try to speak Spanish — cuando does escuela start-o? –, rather it was when the normally reserved, classy, stylish Mother of PittGirl laughed so hard she spewed diet Pepsi all over the table.
2. The Bleacher Report indicates that the Jason Bay trade was another piece of dumbsuck to the giant puzzle of suck that is the Buccos of Suckitude. I’m withholding judgment for now.
3. The Fans of PittGirl group on Facebook recently passed the 400 mark, got up to 410 and today, it is at 409. I just want you to know, whoever you are that left my fan club, that I will hunt you down and I will make you rue the day you clicked that “Leave Group” button. Nobody walks away from Ken Rice, you hear me?!
(h/t to Bobby for creating it)
5. I was watching Wedding Crashers this weekend for the first time (I had seen bits and pieces, but never the whole thing) when suddenly my imaginary self-united husband and future best friend David Conrad popped on the screen playing a character named Trap and actually said, “Did you tap that again? Damn. Sluts!”
Hey! That’s Skippy Skeeve’s line!
I’m over 70 and my wife is over 65. My problem is: I’m old but not dead yet! My wife and I haven’t had sex in more than five years.
Now I have old-people sex images running through my head. Thanks, Cat!
Now, you know I give Cat lots of grief, but I would like you to go and read her response to the Dad who wrote back in to her after she printed his letter in which he complained about his wife putting on baby weight. She puts him in his place and by the time I got to her last line where she tells him to grow up, I wanted to find Cat and salute her.
I mean, if you’re going to ask your wife to grow you a human, you’d best be prepared for what growing a human and birthing that human is going to do to her body.
7. Let’s check in with Baby Cici Donna:
Is anyone else thinking maybe Mike Tomlin is taking this too far? I mean, okay, you’ve made your point.
Let the thugalicious Fatty McFatPants practice.
8. What drunk monkey is naming the hurricanes these days?
How ’bout Diggory? Can we name one Diggory?
Or Saucy? That one’d be a bitch.