Monthly Archives: May 2013

Random n’at

Roman Bistro   Pittsburgh s BEST Bistro   Pittsburgh s BEST NEW RESTAURANT   When In Roman s  Do as the ROMAN S DO

1.I’m on a low-carb diet since my return from Mexico AKA EAT ALL THE THINGSICO, so today I ate 10 cookies.

As one does when one is on a low-carb diet.

Tomorrow I’ll probably eat a half dozen donuts.

I’m really good at dieting.

2. God bless Munch at the P-G for finding that Roman Bistro in Forest Hills has an absolute over-the-top, ear shattering, Spongebob-esque website.

Just … shhh.

And don’t get me started on the apostrophes and quotation marks.

3. Sid almost choked to death on a cheese stick.

Does he need mouth-to-mouth, do you know?


4. Tim McGraw kissed a local woman’s bald head and awwwww and LOOK AT HIS GUNS, YOU GUYS.

I don’t think I’ve ever used this word on this blog in my, what, eight years of blogging, but DAY-UM.

5. Plum High School, of the famous Pens lipdubs, is ready to cut their TV Production Program. 

They have lost their DAY-UM minds.

6. This is the truthiest thing ever:


God bless you, Ian Richards of Sewickley for creating this.

God bless you.

7. The Republican nominee for Pittsburgh Mayor, Josh Wander, is a doomsday prepper with a PREPPER license plate and an appearance on Doomsday Preppers in which we get to see his whole family shooting guns and shit.

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Doomsday prepping is the new face tattoos.

8. WHY?

(h/t Charles)

9. I put this on my Twitter, Facebook and Instagram, but if you missed it, how my local Dairy Queen spells Iginla:


10. While we’re talking Instagram, my favorite Friends episode was on this week, so I had to mark it:



11. Can Burghers go too far in their love of our city?

Yes, they can. When they refuse to acknowledge its flaws.

A snippet of my latest Pittsburgh Magazine column:

We must not allow ourselves to become blind to Pittsburgh’s flaws; that’s no healthier than a parent ignoring the shortcomings of a child. Spend a decade coddling little Suzie, never addressing her faults, letting her get away with everything, becoming angry when anyone dares to criticize her — and before you know it, you’re bailing 16-year-old “Suze” out of juvie for using her 4-inch stiletto to go Bad Girls Club on a classmate who insulted her ombre dye job.

My original text said “ombre dye job as ‘Yinzery.'”

Go have a read, and then be sure to read the comments. Always a good time in the comments.

Enter sarcasm emoticon here.

12. And your awesome tweets as of late:









That’s church.

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End of the Ravenstahl Era

I was going to write this post for my blog at Pittsburgh Magazine, but I feel like at some point I’m going to want to be all “choke a bitch” or “shit a brick” or “[BEWBS]” or something, so I’ll just leave this here instead.

With a slightly lower voter turnout than in 2009 when 45,416 votes were cast in the Democratic Primary, last night Bill Peduto won his party’s nomination and if history is any indicator — and right now History is all, “Bitch, have you met me? I am the BIGGEST indicator.” — then Bill Peduto is the next mayor of Pittsburgh.

Lukey’s arch-nemesis.  The man against which Lukey spent God-knows-how-many dollars to destroy.

Right now Lukey is sitting next to the brick he shit last night and is writing some super depressing rap rhymes that contain rhyming pairs like “dude/rude” and “haters/gators” and “mud/crud.” Lukey is TERRIBLE at writing raps.

Wagner was Lukey’s Chosen One.

You know this because he bankrolled anti-Peduto ads and left some super fierce [snap snap] Facebook comments about “haters” and “He said duty. Heh.” I might be misremembering that second one. [shrug]

And you can be sure this is how he looked as he watched the results last night:






Wagner picked up Lukey’s supporters and that included the police and firefighters unions and I don’t need to tell you this, but they aren’t happy with the results.

Alluding to Mr. Peduto’s support for the state supervision that curbs the bargaining leverage of city unions, Mike LaPorte, the president of the Fraternal Order of Police said the new nominee “treats the city workers like garbage.”

“I’m thinking about retiring,” he added.

Let me translate:



Super mature.

[golf clap]

Regardless, this is the first day of the beginning of the end of the Ravenstahl era. I once had really high hopes for Luke, and now I’ll transfer those high hopes to Bill Peduto, just as I would have done if Jack Wagner had won.

You can be against Peduto, but you can’t be against Pittsburgh; so let’s hope for the best and see where this new road leads us.

Hopefully we won’t find ourselves suffering with typhoid and cholera, fording a rapidly rising Mon while riding a three-wheeled wagon being pulled by dysentery-riddled oxen.


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Random n’at

1. Back from a week in Mexico and I’m so out of the loop I didn’t even know if the Pens had started their second-round games yet.

Now that I’m all caught up, I’d like to say that unpacking is the worst thing ever.


2. An email from the public works director goes public amid accusations it’s political in nature (it is), and it’s not that which bothers me, but this:

Public Works director  Nothing political about email sent from city account   Allegheny Co. News   WTAE Home


Who are these yahoos running our city and using up all of our punctuation????????

Also, put down the exclamation point and slowly back away.

3. This is what he’s referring to, so yes, political in nature:

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4. Speaking of the election, David Conrad is on Bill Peduto’s side. He also submitted the post text to me, but since 2 Political Junkies has it up already, no need for me to post it here. Go read.

A snippet:

More importantly, Murphy’s and Ravenstahl’s administrations each in their own way demonstrated that a Mayor doesn’t need to be beholden to or lovey dovey with Council to get stuff done. In fact he can ignore them half the time. If he’s a driven powerhouse of a man like Murphy or the late Dick Caligiuri he can do amazing things, if he’s a morally compromised teenager like Luke R he can ….well blacken the name of an entire political organization and hopefully go to jail.

Them’s fightin’ words!

[awkward kung fu moves]

5. Lukey is now part of the FBI investigation, hence David’s referral to jail.


6. The Children’s Home and the Lemieux Family Center has been chosen as the beneficiary for this year’s Best Restaurants Party auction proceeds! Details on the event are here. 

I’ll be there stuffing my face with whatever face-stuffing stuff I can get my face on.

Hashtag diet fail.

7. Mister Rogers is headed for the movie screen and People Magazine is speculating who could play him. They’re guessing anyone from Toby McGuire (NO!) to Steve Carell (NO-IER!).

I could actually see Ty Burrell in this role on the sound of his voice alone. It’s got that deep, calming tone to it.

(h/t Dana)

8. Get your pet’s portrait professionally taken in Wexford on June 15 benefiting the Humane Society.

9. Ali McMutrie is going to jump out of an airplane. And if you knew how afraid she is of heights, you would know why this is a big deal. But she’s doing it to raise money for Haiti.

Check it out!

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10. The Buccos are winning and know what else is a win? This:

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11. I remember hearing about this last year, but the list of stuff that has been found in our waterways is just absurd. 

12. WANT.

13. And finally … Let’s go Pens!

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Queen Dork.

We’ve discussed my dorkiness in the past.

There was the time I gave David Conrad a lift in my mom-car that looked like it had been lived in by trailer trash raccoons who had very recently survived a dust storm and acquired a hoarding disorder.

There was the time I met Mario Lemieux and talked 75,003 miles per hour and may have snuck a “will you marry me?” in there somewhere. Sorry, Nathalie.

There was the time it took three strangers at three different times telling me I left a sticker on my new jeans before I actually removed the entire thing.

I’m a dork. A huge one.

And then today.

Today I received an award from the Light of Life Homeless Mission and I’m not telling you this because I want you to pat my back or offer me kudos. I think you know me well enough to know I don’t want that. But I have to tell you I received the award because it leads to the Road of Dorkdom I walked today.

I wore white pants today to receive my award.

I can hear the ladies already gasping as if they’re stuck in some horrible tampon commercial. I assure you though, nothing happened along those menstrual lines today. I wore pants because I don’t believe in skirts. There. I said it. They’re against my religion.

Okay, they’re not against my religion, but they are against my least favorite part of my body. My legs. So I’ve gone full on Ellen. I’m all about pants until this running thing I’m doing gives me legs like Carrie Underwood’s. I love her legs. I would lick her legs.


My pants are awesome and they look awesome with my new nude/cream high heels I bought at Marshall’s. In fact, tonight I’m going to a Marathon reception and I’ll be wearing those pants and those heels, so if you see me, please come up to me and say, “Love the pants. Love the heels.”



The award ceremony was in Market Square, so I parked at a meter on Third where I got out of my car and nodded at the security guard who was standing nearby. Cheerful wave, I gave. Cheerful smile, I flashed. Cheerful, I was, Yoda.

I strode across Fourth and stepped up onto the curb near Einstein Bagels. And I stepped on a sidewalk grate. And I stepped my heel down on that grate and that grate tasted the heel of my new nude/cream shoes and said, “MINE.”

Not realizing I was stuck, I took my next step, which apparently was going to be the longest step I’ve ever taken in my life. Like, at that moment, I decided my stride wasn’t purposeful enough and I REALLY went for the step.

My shoe did not come out of the grate. And with the forward motion my body had going, I nearly face-planted.

There I stood. Stuck. One heel in the grate, and my other foot a good three feet away on account of my LONGEST STRIDE EVER. I looked like I was attempting to do a split in high-heels, but gave up halfway down. I looked like I was straddling a creek. Like I was riding the world’s widest horse.  Like I was deep into a one-woman game of Twister.

I tugged my leg. And tugged. My shoe, still on my foot, was not budging. I gave it a few more good yanks. It didn’t move. Pigeons began to approach me with interest. Was I a new statue? Did I need pooped on? Did I have a french fry?

I then looked up, into the window of Einstein Bagels, and saw that I had an audience. Three businessmen seated at the window bar, eating their breakfast and watching my predicament. I made eye contact with one of the men. I think he swallowed a guffaw. I bet he Instagram-ed me.  I bet he captioned it, “This lady. LOL.”

It was getting close to the point that I was going to have to take my foot out of the shoe and get down on my hands and knees right there on Fourth to try to free it from the grate. I was sure I was going to snap the heel off and then have to show up at the award ceremony looking like I’d just run with the bulls.

With one final yank of my leg, I freed my shoe from the bastard grate and began walking again toward Market Square as if nothing happened.

Once in Market Square, I met up with Jessi Marsh from Light of Life. We chatted for a few moments, then I told her I was going to run my purse up to Las Velas.  Up at Las Velas, in the kitchen chatting with my husband who was busy making breakfast burritos for the crowd, I felt a slight draft below my waist. I slowly lowered my head to take a look only to find that my zipper was down.

Kennywood. Wide open.

So now you have to go back to your visual image of me being all cheery with the security guard. Go back to your image of me stuck to the sidewalk grate on Fourth with my legs spread three-feet apart with an audience of bagel-munchers watching, and now you have to add an open zipper to that picture.

You’d think that’s enough dorkitude for one day, but not for your queen. Go big or go home, is your queen’s motto.

Back at the award ceremony tent, I was ushered over to stand where the other honorees were waiting, and the main honoree? Sean Casey. He of Reds fame. MLB All-Star. THE MAYOR SEAN CASEY.

And this is how that went:

“Hi! I’m Sean Casey. You have a leaf in your hair.” [reaches over and gently pulls a tree leaf from my hair]

Why WOULDN’T I have a leaf in my hair the first time I met Sean Casey? Have you met me? Of COURSE I’m going to have a leaf in my hair. I might even have a stink bug riding my hearing aid and an entire tortilla stuck to my backside.

I received my award, shook Dennis Bowman’s hand, shook Craig Wolfley’s hand, got a hug from Tunch Ilkin, and then had a photo snapped with them at which time my sweater decided to fall down and bare my shoulder as if I chose that particular moment to go full-on Glamour Shots.

But I didn’t care. Because I was too busy thanking God in heaven that my zipper wasn’t down.


Moral of this story?

Bow to your Queen.

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Act 12. Scene 5.


 (Photo credit: Michael Henninger of the Post-Gazette)

Setting: The Office of That’s Church in Dunkin’ Donuts in Market Square.

Mayor Luke: [walks in. Sees me sitting there. Turns to leave.]


Mayor Luke: I —

Me: Did you seriously, after I strongly advised against it, go back to Facebook to leave another comment on a Post-Gazette article? Again sounding like a whining 14-year-old? Again not using proper spelling, punctuation, or grammar?

Luke: I–

Me: And did you use the word haters?!

Luke: I–

Me: And did you put the word haters inside of unnecessary quotation marks?

Luke: But–

Me: Did you actually graduate college?

Luke: You–

Me: Is proofreading your kryptonite?

Luke: I–

Me: Are you really this out of f–ks?

Luke: You–

Me: Did you never learn the difference between its and it’s?

Luke: I–

Me: Do you not realize that when reporters ask you if you’re bankrolling anti-Peduto commercials and you don’t respond to them, that when you are finally confirmed as the funder, you don’t get to self-righteously claim that you never tried to hide anything? WHEN YOU ARE THE MAYOR, NOT ANSWERING REPORTERS IS HIDING SOMETHING, STINKBRAIN.

Luke: But–

Me: You are still the mayor, you understand that?

Luke: I–

Me: You’re still collecting a paycheck, are you not?

Luke: Well–

Me: THEN YOU HAVE TO WORK. You have to show up. You have to be visible. You, Mayor Luke, HAVE. TO. BE. MAYOR UNTIL THERE IS A NEW MAYOR. You don’t get to say, “I quit, but not like quit quit, because I love my paycheck. So just … you do you and I’ll do me. Holla.”

Luke: But–

Me: No. There is no but. YOU HAVE TO BE THE MAYOR. You still have to answer reporters’ questions. You are still accountable.

Luke: You–

Me: You do realize, do you not, that you are, at this point in time, political poison? Hemlock. Publicly backing Wagner is not going to help Wagner. It’s going to make people say to themselves, “Do I really want a mayor who Luke Ravenstahl supports?” You should have stayed out of it, if you really want Wagner to win.  You should have stayed off Facebook, but you didn’t. And you’ve buried six feet deep any semblance of maturity you ever had.

Luke: I–

Me: I know. You deleted it. But Luke, like stupidity, the Internet is forever.

Luke: But–


Luke: I–

Me: You messed up. Stay off of Facebook. Go to work. Be our mayor. Work on UPMC. Back Wagner quietly lest you poison him. And again, please, I can’t say this enough: stay off of Facebook. Don’t “like.” Don’t “share.” And don’t, for the love of God, “poke.” Take the high road. Act older than 14. Don’t call the P-G a “rag.” Don’t ask them how they publish their paper with a “straight face.” When you’re no longer the mayor, go nuts. Go total batshit Amanda Bynes bonkers. But for now, just be the mayor.

Luke: You–

Me: You know I’m right. Or you wouldn’t have deleted it.

Luke: I’m leaving.

Me: There’s the door.

Luke: [walks away]

Me: Oh, and Luke?

Luke: [turns] What?


Luke: [storms off]

Me: Don’t be a hater, baby! That’s just church!


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