That's Church

Do you guys ever check out the “Out and About” section on the tail end of the New Pittsburgh Courier, Pittsburgh’s Black Newspaper?

It’s a section where Brotha Ash, as he’s called, goes out and about (!) and takes pictures of the social happenings in Black Pittsburgh.

This week, there was a picture that gave me pause.  Now, I know that I’m not at one with Hip Hop culture and sign-throwing or whatever you call it.  You know.  Dudes are about to get their picture taken and all of the sudden they’re doing sign language, throwing W’s and X’s all pew, pew, pew, pew maybe in loyalty to a gang, a school or a fraternity or something.

I get that.  But I’m pretty sure this kid on the left…

… is just flipping us off.

Way to keep it classy, NPC.

1.  Did anyone see the lady on America’s Got Talent who crushed stuff with her ginormous boobs?  Can you tell me, please.  Were those real?  Seriously.  I want to know.

2.  This might be the fastest I have ever fallen in love with a new Burgh site.  Stuff Yinzers Like. When your “About” page is as funny as theirs, you know it’s going to be a kickass site:

First, our sincere apologizes to the geniuses at Stuff White People Like. Like Jesus (R.I.P. Spring, 33 A.D., Un-R.I.P. three days later), George Carlin (R.I.P. 6/22/2008), Madonna (Virginity R.I.P. Sometime in 1984) and Caroline Rhea (Career R.I.P 2007), you blazed a trail on which us mere mortals can only hope to follow, stealing your comedic model along the way. If immitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then consider us the Judge Joe Brown, Judge Judy, Judge Mathis and Judge Alex to your Judge Wapner.

Oh, that Jesus RIP thing made me laugh.

(h/t Woy)

3.  Sean Avery really is a douche on ice (start near paragraph 5).

(h/t Rachel)

4.  I wonder what happens if you poop in a pigeon coop.  Does it confuse them too, or do they just get all, “PAISANO!”

(h/t JamieO)

5.  About those girls from Upper St. Clair that were raped in school:

The next day, Jane Doe reported the rape to Ms. Haguel, who went to school administrators. They called the 16-year-old girl’s parents and Upper St. Clair police. At that time, the girl said, police interviewed her about the alleged assaults.

Ms. Haguel told the boy to write notes of apology to his victims during his in-school suspension, according to Jane Doe’s federal lawsuit. But the 16-year-old said in the interview if that happened, she never received an apology from him.

Write a note of apology?   WTF?  Saying what?  “Hey, sorry I raped/molested you and possibly stole your innocence.  Do you forgive me?  Circle yes or no.”

God.  When you read that article … that kid should have been stopped a long long time ago.

Sitting in my living room watching the Buccos of Suckitude game last night with my BIL who had just come from the hospital where Pens Fan Sister is currently laid up with Texas Death (and you all thought I was exaggerating how awful Texas Death is. She was hospitalized because they were afraid her throat was going to close up. But it’s okay. She’s on morphine. Yay, her!)

BIL: So … Marian Hossa.

PG: You know when Jaromir Jagr left way back when, I didn’t hate him, not even with his “I’m die-wahhhh-ing alive here” crap. I never spoke badly of him. Never hated him. I hate Marian Hossa.

BIL: I don’t wish him ill. I don’t want him to get injured. I want him to have the season of his life with Detroit. I want them to go to the Stanley Cup Finals and I want him to choke. You know why? Karma.

PG: I’ll drink to him getting some karma shoved up his ass. Pass me my Zima.

So yeah, Marian Hossa chose Detroit over the Pens, as he said he would do. He just didn’t name teams before. He said he’d take less money to play for a winner. Problem is we all assumed that he meant the Penguins.

He did not.

I hate him. I could handle it if he left for money, for a long term contract, for anything OTHER than just leaving because he doesn’t think he can win with us. It’s an insult.

I hate him.

[inhale]

I hope his hair never lays down right.

I hope his collar always rubs against his neck wrong.

I hope his jeans are always scratchy, his deodorant always sticky, and his girlfriend always bitchy.

I hope he takes a laxative and then can’t get his pantyhose off. (tm Golden Girls)

I hope his ass never stops itching, his faucet never stops leaking, and his nose never stops running.

I hope he gets a corn hull stuck in his throat for days and can’t get it out no matter how much he goes “KGGGKKKKKKK.”

I hope his car gets keyed, his house gets TP’d and his wallet gets stolen.

I hope he grows man-boobs and ear hair.

I hope he can’t ever get it up.

I hope his Windows crashes with abandon.

I hope he is regularly noogied, wedgied and Indian-burned.

I hope he never ever dreams that he can fly.

I hope his girlfriend leaves him for Tom Brady.

I hope he skates poorly, trips often and sneezes much.

I hope he hits his funny bone with force.

I hope his dog pees in his skates and I hope his cat barfs hairballs into his cereal.

I hope the sticky notes never stick for him, the lights never change for him and the ProActiv never works for him.

And finally, I hope Sidney Crosby skates right past him with the Cup hoisted high above his head, and I hope Sid winks.

[exhale]