Monthly Archives: April 2011

Cirque du Soleil giveaway and discount offer. Woo!

UPDATE: Random number generator selected comment #65. The winner has been notified via email.

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It’s been some years since I’ve seen Cirque du Soleil perform, but I still remember so distinctly my thoughts during the show:

OMG.

WTF?

HOW?

NO WAY.

Ouch.

OUCH.

Seriously, how do they bend like that? Hold that pose while hoisting five other men? Throw that? Balance that? Do that? Become that?

There always comes a point in a Cirque du Soleil show that I decide this is the year I get me a six-pack of abs and maybe the ability to spin a hula hoop on my pinky finger while somersaulting the hell out of some somersaults. Then the lights come up and I go, “That was awesome. Also, I could go for some carrot cake.”

This year, Cirque du Soleil is coming back to Pittsburgh and when they invited me to the media preview I said of course I want to go, but I need two tickets to give to my readers too because I LOVE THOSE GUYS.

So, if you’d like the chance to win two tickets to the May 17 showing of Cirque du Soleil, wish granted.

What: Two tickets to Cirque du Soleil’s new touring show TOTEM, describes as thus:

TOTEM traces the fascinating journey of the human species from its original amphibian state to its ultimate desire to fly. The characters evolve on a stage evoking a giant turtle, the symbol of origin for many ancient civilizations.

Inspired by many founding myths, TOTEM illustrates, through a visual and acrobatic language, the evolutionary progress of species.

Somewhere between science and legend TOTEM explores the ties that bind Man to other species, his dreams and his infinite potential.

When: Tuesday, May 17 at 8:00 p.m.

Where: In the Strip District under the Grand Chapiteau at 20th and A.V.R.R.

Value: $130.00

How to enter: Leave a comment in the comments section, one comment per valid email address and so you have something to tell me, tell me what’s the one physical ability you wish you excelled at or at the very least, were capable of doing without looking like a pregnant three-legged rhino.

Springboard diving?

Salsa dancing?

Plate spinning?

Tumbling?

Tight rope walking?

Me? Even though I’ve never successfully executed a cartwheel in my life, I think I’d like to be a trapeze artist. Flying through the air like that, waiting for someone to catch you on the other side? What a rush.

Tell me yours. If your comment goes to spam, punch your keyboard so hard the E key stops working.

No, don’t do that. You know the drill. I’ll fish ’em out and repost them for you.

You have until noon on Thursday, April 28 to get your comment in at which time Random.org will pick the winning comment number.

If you don’t win, BONUS!

Ticket discount offer: If you’re in the market to buy tickets, which by the way, heck of a Mother’s Day present idea, you can click here for their Mother’s Day offer for Pittsburgh.

Celebrate Mom with a thrilling Cirque du Soleil experience! Treat your mother to a memorable Cirque du Soleil experience by taking advantage of our special offers on show tickets—bring your family of four to a show for only $131!

Maybe I’ll see you there.

I’ll be the chick with carrot cake icing on her lips and a burning desire to do a cartwheel in her heart.





Conflicted.

If you told me on June 2, 2008 that I would someday want to punch this face in the actual face, I’d have told you to shut your whore mouth.

Fast forward to 2011, and here I am, wanting to punch this face so hard in the face that it needs a new face.

Whoa. Violence. I has it.

Ugh. The fickle nature of sports. I love you as long as you’re wearing my uniform, but don the uniform of a rival team and eventually I’ll call you a whiner and a diver and I’ll demand your balls on a stick while talking bad about you, your mother, and maybe your pets.

I’m not proud of it. I want to keep loving Ryan. He’s a Burgh boy. He fought so hard for us, remember? Remember how much you used to love him, too?

And now he’s one game away from stealing this series from us right in his hometown. Ergo, PUNCH.

But put that boy back into a Pens uniform and I would strip for goals faster than you can say “shut your five hole.”

That sounded dirty.

I am too easy.

I’m not ready for hockey to be over.

Let’s go Pens!





I love Santino Guzzo.

(screen cap from WPXI)

By now you’ve heard the story of the sword-wielding “ninja,” and those are very ironic quotation marks because I’m using ninja in the very loosest sense of the term here, who successfully robbed 11 cars but then made the ninjatastic mistake of confronting my hero Santino Guzzo, 29, of South Union.

How do I love Santino Guzzo?

Let me count the forsoothy ways (I’m going to make forsoothy a thing as soon as I get mind bogglejiggities to be a thing):

1. Santino has snark and spunk to spare.

“The only word that comes to mind is, ‘seriously?'” Santino Guzzo, 29, of South Union said today. “I know this isn’t a laughing matter, but how many people get attacked by a ninja? Really, a ninja?”

I love it. Normally, you get a South Union man and stick a voice recorder, microphone or camera in his face and he becomes THAT guy on the news. Whatever shirt he’s wearing magically transforms into a wife-beater on camera, and his two front teeth fall out. “Well, I was milkin’ my goat and next thing I know I seen a man dressed in black and I seen he’s trying to rob me. They robbin’ errybody up in here.”

But Santino Guzzo is all, “SRSLY?! A NINJA?!?!”

2. But my hero Santino had a little present for the ninja. A gun.

This is my favorite scene in all the Indiana Jones movies and it’s how I like to think this whole thing went down:

YouTube Preview Image

The ninja wielded his sword. Santino showed him his gun.

I’m also reminded of the “That’s not knife. THAT’S A KNIFE.” line from Crocodile Dundee.

God. I’m old.

3. Once Santino showed the ninja the gun, hilarity ensued.

Guzzo said he chased the man, who did not move with the grace typically associated with a ninja.

“He was like a gazelle that just got attacked by a lion,” Guzzo said. “He got up and fell, and got up and fell. Then he jumped off a cliff.”

Oh, Santino. I want to hug you. I want to know you.

Not in the biblical sense, but in the sense that if Pittsburgh is going to be the location of a forthcoming ninja uprising, I want you on my side.

[awkward ninja moves]





High school wasn’t this fun for me

I am obviously 1,000% not the best judge of music as evidenced by the fact that the words “honkey tonk badonkadonk” have been used on  my blog more times than I care to count (DON’T YOU DO IT!) but this song and video written by the students and faculty at Peters Township School District is pretty freaking badonkalicious in a completely un-honkey tonk way. I just wrote that sentence.

Hockey Night in Pittsburgh! The lyrics are in the description.

YouTube Preview Image

We never got to do anything like this when I was in high school.

I did however have a Shakespeare teacher who liked to dress in costume and act out the drunk scene from Macbeth. That was pretty awesome in its own forsoothy kind of way.

I am just making up words like a boss today.

(h/t Lindsey)





You aren’t reading enough.

So let me give you some stuff to read today. Some will change the way you view your problems. Some will change the way you view your city. One will change the way you view my ass. Srsly.

1. David Conrad loves you. But step off.

First up, if you haven’t yet as I’ve already tweeted and facebooked this, you’ll want to read this amazing piece in the Sunday Post-Gazette by David Conrad in which he uses the recent death of his father and his brother’s current fight against cancer to illustrate how Pittsburgh’s people are a huge part of what makes this city great.

If you didn’t fall in love with David in the half-trillion and one posts I’ve written about him, this might be the one to do it.

A snippet:

Then I catch myself and say, “Come on, Dave, know your place here.”

Know what you’re doing, honestly. Know where you work best in a situation, and who you can serve. Know where you’re from. Know your “place.”

Me? My place is Pittsburgh.

What a coincidence! That’s my place too. Call me.

2. Real problems.

Next up, you’ll want to read this story about the Perry County farming family that lost seven of their eight children aged 9 months to 11 in a fire recently. Try to wrap your brain around that.

How’s your problems looking now?

Mine are A-OK!

Love my problems. I hug ’em and thank ’em that they’re not bigger or more devastating.

3. Vermin-carrying vermin.

On a lighter note, you can go read my latest blog post at Pittsburgh Magazine in which we talk about the Pittsburgh Downtown Partnership’s new anti-pigeon materials that are being handed out in Market Square.

A snippet:

Please put on your listening ears for this one: PIGEONS SPREAD DISEASE: Note the important words on the card: Mites. Lice. Vermin. That live on the pigeon. The pigeon is a vermin that has OTHER vermin living on it. Shudder.

On the magazine’s facebook page, a comment was left about that post that Pittsburgh needs to start getting rid of its bird-haters, starting with me.

Pigeons aren’t birds; They’re VERMIN.

That’s what I’ll put on my gravestone under “A banana without Nutella is stupid.”

4. My growing ass.

When I say that, invariably, someone I know will be all, YOU AREN’T FAT. I’m not saying I’m fat, I’m saying I’m relying a bit too much on fat-sucker-inning undergarments lately. And I’m blaming all yinz guys for it.

A snippet from my May column in Pittsburgh Magazine:

Perhaps the most insidious force being used against me in this war is not knowing how many calories or grams of fat are in most of these things I need to eat, and my thighs don’t seem to believe me when I tell them, “What you don’t know won’t hurt you.”

Of course, Pittsburgh is full of healthy alternatives, but you’re not telling me about those on a regular basis with flashing neon lights and stunning photos. And, most importantly, those healthy options are not calling to me with the sweet siren song of a cellulite-depositing succubus.

Go read why I’m blaming you.

Here’s hoping I get myself under control before I add to my gravestone, “I fought the cellulite-depositing succubus, and the cellulite-depositing succubus won.”