7 Reasons why being a Pirates fan won't be so bad this year

#7 Suck has a shelf life. Let's hope our expired 10/1/2008.

#6 Bringing back the goofy "pillbox" hat. The other teams won't be laughing at us, they'll be laughing with us. OK, so, they really will be laughing at us.

#5 Since Xavier Nady was traded to the Yankees, we don't have to put up the annoying chick down the first base line who waved her pirate flag and crossed her arms into an "X" every time Nady was on the field.

#4 Won't have to remember how to spell Mientkiewicz.

#3 Still have that 6th Super Bowl "high".

#2 Pirates applied for Federal Disaster Assistance Program and were accepted. President Obama to tour area of devastation (PNC Park) by air this spring. Reportedly will call this "The worst disaster in our nation since the 1977 Tampa Bay Bucs".

#1 If by some miracle; and by miracle I mean a sure sign of the apocalypse; the Buccos make it to the World Series, our boy-Mayor won't have to change his name to "Piratestahl"

Twitter-ific

I haven't posted much lately. Why? Laziness, sickness, taxes and Twitter. If you don't know what Twitter is; Google "Stephen Fry BBC interview". That'll give you an idea. Recently, after feeling un-Twitterific for about 7 months, I've started Twittering again. It's a great way to share my worthless ramblings, 140 letters at a time. It allows me to vent, be a smart ass and share things without having to set aside a time to blog. Half the time, by evening, I forgot what I was going to blog about. Sometimes, I feel that I should expand on my "tweets". But for now, I'll split my musings between blogging and twittering; so please feel free to sign up for a Twitter account, if you haven't already, and follow along.

Must have been some damn good cheese

OK, I think this story is hilarious, especially since it happened at the grocery store where my folks have shopped for almost 50 years. Here's the story:

"CR and her 23-year-old daughter fought two MyHomeTown men trying to steal her purse after she had loaded groceries into her pickup and left the door open in the parking lot of the local Mom & Pop Grocery. CR screamed out, “Give me my purse back!” and before Loser #1 could shut his door, she had jumped into the passenger side to get it back. Loser #1 sat on the purse refusing to let go, but CR, hanging halfway out of the vehicle, said she had a good grip on the straps. Loser #2, who was driving, began backing out of the parking lot, dragging CR's feet along the pavement.

CR’s daughter had left the store a few minutes after her mother and heard her mother’s cries for help. Her daughter then jumped into the car and began tussling with Loser #1, who bit her finger. Daughter bit Loser #1’s ear. The mother and daughter fought with the losers until police arrived."

Here's the best part of the story, in my opinion; even better than biting the dude's ear.

"Loser #1 was most recently charged with possession of drug paraphernalia and theft after attempting to leave the same Shop ’n Save with $13.47 worth of cheese in his pockets."

I'm not sure I could fit $13.47 worth of cheese in my pockets. Maybe it was a fine imported Gouda or Edam or maybe Jarlsberg. Either way, it must be some damn good cheese.

Black & Gold

Yesterday was the day for the Steelers first playoff game against the Chargers. We planned our own little watching party here at Magnus Domus. I made a huge pot of chili, Nancy made cookies and we fired up the old Philco HD. Last August, we bought our own Terrible Towel at the one and only Steeler game (I prefer HD to "being there"... my bathroom is cleaner at home and there is less of a line). After we bought ours, my mom said, "We could have given you ours. It's packed away in the garage somewhere". Just a side note. Their Terrible Towel was the one that was hung up in their bar from 1975 until they sold the place 8 years ago. I remember sometime around 1984 climbing up a ladder to take it down and clean it. It was like Towel Jerky; completely inflexible, saturated with nicotine and not anything near yellow. I would have taken it down then, if it weren't for the towel shaped "shadow" left on the wall. So there it remained for another 15 years.

So, I thought our investment in a new Terrible Towel (TT) was worth it.

Anyway, I hang up the TT and the inflatable "Steeler Hammer" which remained inflated exactly long enough for Drew to beat Clay over the head with it twice. After recovering, Clay decides that he need to help "decorate" too. He roams around the house looking for anything and everything black and gold. He then lines them up on the fireplace next to the TT. First a yellow pen; then a Pirates baseball; then a SpongeBob Etch-a-Sketch; then various Tonka trucks; then the remote controlled Wall*E; then every black or gold piece of the Batcave play set. I had to put a stop to it when he wanted to complete this homage to the Steelers by bringing in the yellow folding chair and lean it up against the hearth. I appreciate his team spirit, but enough already!

It was a great game; the Steelers scored; the boys screamed; cookies were eaten; victory is ours. Today, Clay is wearing his Willie Parker shirt to school today. For the first time this year, he's all, "Yeah, I see your #7's and #86's, but today it's all #39 baby!"

SpongeBob, Batman and Wall*E are still guarding the Terrible Towel and I guess they'll stay there until early February when their job is done.

Twas the night before...

... the night before. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. All is right with my world. I hope the same for you. Merry Christmas!

Pants 'n'at

Drew has really enlarged his vocabulary the last few weeks. Unfortunately, for the last few days, he's concentrated on a few that I wish he wouldn't. Today, he held court in the back of the van; a toddler Shecky Green; the pre-K George Carlin; a diaper-wearing Dane Cook. His routine is simple. He likes to stick with the classics.

"Mr. Stinkerpants!" then he laughs uncontrollably. "Poopie pants!" He laughs. Clay laughs. He has won over his audience. "Poopie poopie". The two little goofballs are rolling on the floor (*they're safely in their government mandated child safety seats and not really ROTFL-ing). He makes his big finish, "Hello Mr. Stinker-Poopie pants!" Finally, I've had enough.

"Alright, alright. Drew, knock it off!" Nancy says, "Just ignore him. Clay stop laughing at him". Drew tries a few encore "Poopie pants", but fails to get the ovation he wanted. Finally, thankfully, we sit quietly listening to Christmas music when Clay says, "Well, at least now he knows how to say the word pants".

The Amazing Mr. Claus

On Sunday, we had Christmas: Part I. Part I is "Baba and Gigi Christmas". If you don't know, Baba and Gigi is the anglicized way of saying Grandma and Grandpa in Ukrainian. We also have "Home Christmas" (Part II), ""Uncle Pete & Aunt Karen Christmas (Part III), "Papa Duke and Grandma Rose Christmas" (Part III, which is usually actually December 25th), and "Gran Christmas (Part IV). By December 27th, I'm usually ready for some Easter eggs. I'm Christmas-ed out. Not to say I don't enjoy every minute of it. I just goes on longer than my self proclaimed "Mike's Birthday Week Celebration", which comes around every fourth week of September or so.

Anyway... after Christmas Pt. I, we decided to go look at some Christmas lights. As we were heading out of my parent's driveway, I heard the local fire trucks blaring their sirens. I knew that it was Santa's night to ride the truck. We drove over a block pulled over, and waited for St. Nick to drive by. It was 14°. It was windy. He was riding on top of the fire truck. For a guy who lives at the North Pole, he looked pretty damned cold. The kids loved it as he drove by and they waved and screamed. What could be better; fire trucks, sirens, flashing lights and Santa.

We decided we'd check out the local Griswald house and drove to the other side of town, which took all of four minutes; maybe. You can find it because the amount of electricity it uses make an audible hum as you get within four or five blocks. We've driven past this place before; in previous years and earlier this year. The kids were excited and we slowly drove up the the house. Then a very un-Christmasy thought went through my head. "Oh, shit! It's Santa! ...and Mrs. Claus!"

Yes, as we pulled up in front of the house Santa himself and the lovely Mrs. Claus came up to great us. I immediately hear the gears turning in Clay's head, "Hey how did he get here so fast? Where's the fire truck? Why wasn't she with him on the truck? Why doesn't he have glasses like he did four minutes ago?!?"

Quickly, I jump out and say, "Santa! Wow, those firemen really got you here quickly!" Santa looks at me like, "Dude, have you had too much eggnog tonight? Should you really be driving?" Before he can say anything I say, "Man, we just saw you riding on the fire truck on the other end of town and you beat us here!" Santa suddenly remembered that he had just arrived. I also reminded him that he needed to drop off the boys' presents in Virginia. Luckily, he regained his memory about that too.

That Santa, a little forgetful but awful fast.