That's Church

I get emails all the time from people wanting to tell me where they heard the phrase “move forward” and asking if they are permitted to drink in honor of said occasion.

I think it’s about time we formalized the rules of the Luke Ravenstahl “Move Forward” Drinking Game.

1. You are permitted to drink when Luke Ravenstahl and ONLY Luke Ravenstahl says, writes, or endorses the phrase “move forward” or “moving forward”.

2. You are not permitted to drink when Luke Ravenstahl only uses the word “move” or only uses the word “forward” without its partner. This is so you’re not drunk all the time.

3. You shall not drink when any other person says, writes, or endorses the phrase.

4. You are not permitted to make a sock puppet, name it “Luke Ravenstahl,” and have it say “move forward” until you can no longer remember your name.

5. The number of words acceptable that may appear or be said between “move” or “moving” and “forward” is five or less. Therefore:

“Keep this city moving forward” = drink

“Keep moving this city that I love forward” = drink

“Keep moving this here city that I love forward” = NO drink for you!

6. If the phrase is found on the Internet, you may only drink once for the first time you read each occurrence. You may not hit your refresh button repeatedly in order to finish off that bottle of Sauza.

7. You may take three drinks if Luke Ravenstahl says the JACKPOT PHRASE:

“Looking forward to moving forward.”

8. PittGirl is not liable for any addiction, injury, job loss, or death that may result from your voluntary participation in the drinking game.

9. These rules can be edited as PittGirl pleases.

My bus was late today because of my big fat bus driver who has to drive slow because his belly inhibits the turning of the steering wheel.

I put away my gloves when I put away the shovel and salt in a decidedly stupid display of weather optimism back when it was at least 60 degrees every day.

I refuse to dig them out again in April, so this morning, my fingers are cute little popsicles.

I wore my hair back today so my wind-whipped ears are cute little ice cubes.

If it snows and accumulates, don’t walk on my sidewalk unless you want to slip and break your neck because the shovel is NOT being dug out and the only salt I’m touching is that which will enhance the flavor of my food.

If you do fall and decide to “go all Edgar Snyder on my ass” (tm Anthony), I’ll just sue you right back. I don’t know what for, but this is America. I’ll find something.

Just in case it shall never ever ever happen again for as long as we both shall live: