First, you Terrible Towel-burning Cincinnati fans … you scums of buckets … you sons of horse poop … my nephew has a message for you:
Made you a Major …
Oh, that’s right, burning the Terrible Towel.
Suck on that loss.
Now that I’ve sufficiently gloated on behalf of the Ghost of Myron Cope, who would also like me to add, “Double yoi!”, let’s talk about our Steelers and their so very very sad loss, to which the Ghost of Myron Cope growls, “*&$% @^#%!”
I hear ya, Myron. Which is scary. Go ‘way now.
1. Hi, ho!
It’s off to work we go!
And dig, dig dig …
… dig, dig, dig, dig the whole day through …
… and dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig …
… is what we really like to do!
Hi, ho! Hi, ho!
It’s home from work we go …
2. What a yucky, yucky, yuck-filled game! I mean, Heath Miller dropped a perfectly catchable ball! When is the last time that happened?
3. And Benny! Almost 400 yards, but two interceptions and one very ill-timed concussion. That said, the King of Quarterbackylonia sure knows how to shake a sack sometimes. Twice I counted what should have been sure sacks, easily shrugged off by Chewbacca. Well done, Chewy.
Three times during yesterday’s game my mother said, “Ben is fat.” Kinda.
4. I understand hindsight and all that, but do we think Jeff Reed could have made that 56-yarder to win the game? I don’t know. I kind of feel like … maybe? The point, however, is that Mike Tomlin didn’t think he could.
5. I just want you to know that I snapped those pictures of Jeff Reed picking his wedgie and I did it using my sister Pens Fan’s iPhone because it was the only camera handy and she was upstairs at the time and didn’t see me doing it. So this happened a half hour later:
Me: Um, there are some pictures I need you to email to me from your phone.
PF: Pictures? What pictures?
Me: Some pictures I took of the TV.
PF: What of?
Me: Just stuff.
PF: [grabs iPhone and flips through about 13 pictures of Jeff Reed picking his butt] YOU HAVE DEFILED MY PHONE! IT WILL NEVER BE CLEAN AGAIN!
Ohio Sister/Princess Aurora is moving to Pittsburgh soon with her family, so I expect to get the chance to feature her cute shenanigans more soon.
6. Troysus is effin’ cute in a hat.
We paused the TV just to be sure and after thirty seconds of gazing, we confirmed, effin’ cute.
7. What more can I say? Nothing, because I’ve had too much wine.
I blame this loss on two things in particular … penalties and, of course, special teams, which, DUH!
My mother would stop a return better than these guys and she’s got REALLY bad asthma and she’s in her 50s and she’d still be all, “BAM! YOU LOSE, LOSER!”
Then she’d bend over the return man, do that W, E, M, L thing my nephew taught her yesterday, take a nice suck of Advair and walk away.
She’s street like that.