Actual photo from a corner in Philadelphia . . .

I used to visit Philadelphia every now and then. It's no wonder I don't anymore.

I bet that tastes like . . .

Jim and Dave emailing about football . . .

Just as a reminder, Jim lives near Philadelphia and is an Eagles fan. I am still friends with him, despite that. If you have any knowledge of football, then this email exchange will make a lot more sense than if you don't.


Jim: I guess Andy Reid is a good coach to have won as many games as he has, but he is so frustrating because at the worst possible times he will do something that is so boneheaded and completely defies any kind of rational explanation. Honestly, I don't care how many times he's been to the NFC championship. If I was the owner, I would have fired his fat idiot ass on the spot last night. I wouldn't even have let him leave the field and go back into the locker room with the team.

Dave: I see. Coaches make moves like that all of the time. If they work, they're lauded. If not, they're roasted on radio talk shows for the next week. Cowher had his share of those moments, and Tomlin will, too. However, as an observer from afar, Reid does seem to have more than his share of them. Ultimately, I think, Feeley threw the interception, so it's on him. Come on, Jim, give Reid a break. He lives in a drug emporium.

Jim: He acts like he lives in a drug emporium.

I think I have to disagree when it comes to last night. How can you do a great job of putting your players in a position where they have a chance to win for 99% of the game, only to pull the rug out from under them at the very end and almost deliberately put them in a position to fail right at the exact moment where all of their hard work is about to pay off? I am a patient man, but that is not only inexcusable, it's inhumane. Michael Vick and Pacman Jones got suspended from the NFL for less.

Dave: Wow. Strong words. I hope I'm not as angry tomorrow as you are now.

I wish I lived in a drug emporium.

That's a pretty bitter berry . . .

Did you know that there is as much sugar in one scoop of canned cranberry sauce as there is in eight chocolate donuts? Wow. Well . . . Happy Thanksgiving.

From today's Post-Gazette:

The 500-ton cylindrical drill that will carve its way from the North Shore to the new Gateway Station, Downtown, and back began its journey slowly yesterday.

The massive machine, strapped into a red gantry crane, was lifted up, then carried forward as the crane inched its way along a red steel track into the starting pit opposite PNC Park.

Construction workers snapped photos with cameras and cell phones, but to uninitiated observers, it was almost impossible to tell it was moving.




So . . . now we know that this is definitely a Port Authority project.

The Penguins could use some good karma . . .

Looks like the Lukester missed a pretty good photo op in the Hill District with some of the Penguins. But as we all know, the Boy Mayor often misses opportunities to meet with minorities in the area.

Not a good day for Mr. Bonds . . .

Why so surly, Barry? What, is it that whole Federal Indictment for perjury and obstruction of justice thing? Don't sweat it, man. If everyone from the Bush administration can beat their charges, then you and a really good lawyer can, too.

The Triumphant Return of Ronald Miller . . .

When he was making that awful 80s movie where he is a pizza delivery man who boinks his female customers who order extra anchovies, do you think that Patrick Dempsey thought that in 2007 he would be named one of People Magazine's Sexiest Men Alive and that his nickname would be "McDreamy?"

The leaves are finally falling, along with my morale . . .

Oh, I just can't stand that little twit. But life must go on. And the blog must go on. I don't have much to say, I'm sorry to report, despite having been on hiatus for a week. I suppose on the plus side, I now have at least two more years of the Lukester's shenanigans to make fun of. There should be plenty of photos for that. But, really, I'm just getting a little sick and tired of business as usual around this city. And I'm really sick of high-end condos being built all over the place. Yeah, they're nice and all, but who's going to live in them? Downtown continues to be plagued by tons of empty office space; the "non-profit" giants of the University of Pittsburgh and UPMC continue to make lots of money and scarf up property, and they still don't feel particularly compelled to pay property taxes on their growing empire; and the Pirates just bloody suck. It's a beautiful city with a tremendous landscape, decent people, and a great football team. But is that enough?

In response to the Lukester's victory, my blog is observing several days of silence in mourning for the City of Pittsburgh.

It's Election Day. Remember to vote early and vote often.

Yesterday there were two election messages left on my home answering machine. Unlike some voters, I did not get the taped message from Bob O'Connor's widow Judy endorsing the Lukester. Good thing. I did, however, get one from the Boy Mayor in which he introduced Dan Onorato to speak on his behalf. No surprise there, really. Onorato has been doing all the talking for months. Then later in the day, I got a message from Mark DeSantis. He spoke for himself.

I like him. Even though he is a Republican. But what does that even mean in Pittsburgh?! Sometimes the Democrats are more conservative than the Republicans. I'm told that the Lukester is pro-life and that DeSantis is pro-choice. In my opinion, they should both be pro-choice. But my guess is that despite the political label, DeSantis is more of a Democrat than the Lukester is.

Listen to Joe . . .

Who am I voting for in tomorrow's Mayoral election? Well, it's not going to be that Ravenstahl fellow, I can tell you that. I may be mean, but I'm not stupid.

From the Sidney Chronicles . . .

Note: This little story will be more amusing to the people who know me really well than it will be to the rest of my vast readership. To them, I apologize in advance.


Last night when Sidney and I were coming to the end of a little stroll around the block, we came across a car parked in a place where it should not have been parked. To my surprise, Sidney stopped and growled at it. He kept growling at it as we walked by, looking back over his shoulder with contempt.

When a bad quarter is still a pretty good quarter . . .

Exxon Mobil Corp. said this morning that its profit fell 10% in the third quarter from a year ago, when its profit was the second-largest ever recorded by a publicly traded U.S. company. The drop in net income (pure profit, baby) was from $10.49 billion to a humbling $9.41 billion.


Oil company executives in Houston had to be talked down from the window ledges outside of their ridiculously opulent offices. President Bush is expected to visit the region to determine whether it can be declared a national disaster area.

I'd rather have a dog . . .

Little Jimmy was just following the teacher's directions for the students to show her what they would do if their mother served them spinach for dinner.