That's Church

Speaking of bull semen:

Police in north central Pennsylvania say they’ve solved the case of the missing bull semen.

Police in Sweden Township, near Coudersport, Potter County, say the package containing liquid nitrogen and 1,770 units of the bull semen were reported missing from a residence where it was to be delivered on April 2.

Police now tell the Bradford Era newspaper that the items were never stolen. Rather, a United Parcel Service driver left the package at the home, then went back and retrieved it after realizing it shouldn’t have been delivered without someone signing for the package.

Thoughts:

1. THANK. GOD.

2. If you can’t trust UPS with your bull semen, who can you trust, Internet? WHO CAN YOU TRUST?

3. What can Brown do for you? They can find your bull semen! That’s a killer ad slogan.

4. 1,770 units of bull semen. Talk about mind bogglejiggities. IT’S A THING.

5. I’m trying to understand how they acquire the bull semen from the bull and I decided I don’t want to know. Some things aren’t meant to be learned. Like parallel parking.

6. I’d like to see an officer in the small town of Coudersport apply to be a detective in Pittsburgh just so he can say to the interviewer, “My claim to fame is that I solved the case of the missing bull semen.”

7. I wish it HAD been stolen so that the news could have stories about how the concerned residents of Coudersport are locking up their bull semen at night. “I tell ya. You just don’t think it could happen to you until it does. We’re such a quiet town. And now people are stealing our bull semen. It’s a dangerous world we live in.”

8. If you Google image search “bull semen,” … well … JUST DON’T, OKAY?

They don’t make a neuralyzer powerful enough.

(h/t Paul, Jonathan, and Bobby)

As a city, we’re wrapped up in Penguins fever right now, and rightfully so.

But let me put a cool cloth to your feverish head and get you up to speed on what’s happening with one of the other currently active professional sports teams in Pittsburgh.

Your Pittsburgh Pirates (don’t shake your head. They’re yours too), after a dismal home stand, have fought and clawed their way back to .500 ball, and now sit one game out of first place along with three other teams in the NL Central. Kind of like the first legs of a horse race, we’re waiting for teams to start pulling away from the pack.

Here’s what’s weird: Last year the Pirates played well at home (40-41) and stank like the decaying flesh of the recently deceased when on the road (17-64).

This year, they’re 1-5 at home and 7-3 on the road.

That statistic gives my mind the bogglejiggities.

A couple other statistics that will boggle your mind with the jiggities (I’m going to make this a thing if I have to beat it into you people):

• Pedro Alvarez, the pride of Pirates baseball, is currently batting .193. OUCH. He sat out last night’s game in an effort to allow him to clear his head and also to probably stop him from dropping to .180. We need either an intervention or an exorcism, apparently.
• Ronny Cedeno, the sometimes embarrassing bastard child of Pirates baseball, is currently batting .191. OOF.
• Before being taken out with an injury, Ross Ohlendorf, a pitcher, was batting .333.
• Charlie Morton, who last year stank like something stinkier than decaying flesh — Steely McBeam’s farts, let’s say, is pitching with a 1.64 ERA and pitched a complete game last week. Compare that to the 2 wins, 12 losses, zero complete games, and a 7.57 ERA from last year and he apparently has shaken the suck off thus far.
• Not only has Charlie pitched a complete game, Kevin Correia pitched a complete game yesterday in the Buccos win over the Reds. That’s two complete games from Suckitude pitchers so far this season.
• During all of 2010, do you know how many complete games were pitched by Suckitude pitchers? ONE.

Now, I know these stats don’t really mean anything. I know it’s a long season. I know that which is not sucking could begin to suck and that which is currently sucking could stop sucking. But it’s a ray of hope and maybe the up and down roller coaster of suck will even out soon.

Also …

DEAR PEDRO ALVAREZ, PLEASE STOP SUCKING.

First, I apologize for using the word winning. Momentary lapse of insanity.

Second, I regularly troll YouTube for Pittsurgh videos and found this one this morning.

I don’t know these people, but their names are Mike and Lindsay. Mike proposed to Lindsay in a very cool way atop Mt. Washington by aiming one of those viewers toward a platform at Heinz Field where their family and friends were holding signs that spelled out, “Lindsay, will you marry Mike?”

Start watching at 1:15 in.

Boys, this is a fantastically romantic way to propose, so put it in your pocket as a possibility along with flash mob, airplane jump, and gorilla suit. What?

Also something you can put in your pocket and then mail to me, a note explaining what looks like the news cameras.

Never mind! Found it. Who needs you?

Here’s a news report from KDKA and you’ll be able to see the family members holding the signs.

And now I have a world of questions like, is it standard proposal protocol now to invite the media to your proposal and also, how did they explain the news crews to Lindsay? “What news crew? I don’t see any news crews.”

Either way, well done, Mike.

1. My sister Ta-Ta turned me on to this streaming video of an eagle’s nest in which a father and mother eagle are caring for their three baby eagles. The father eagle is rarely home it seems, off doing God knows what at all hours of the day and night, while the mother eagle never seems to leave the nest and is constantly fretting over the nest and keeping her fidgeting babies warm.

I’m expecting soon to see her get fed up enough to be all, “I’ve had a really bad day. YOU stay here with the kids for a while. I gotta go look at shoes.”

2. Despite appearances, this is not a picture of a pigeon after I’ve gotten done with it:

That’s actually a “champion pigeon.” In this case, those are Super Ironic Quotation Marks.

Go and look at the pictures of other “champion pigeons” including one that looks it’s wearing a white fur coat, one that’s snow white with the evilest red eyes ever created by Satan, and this one:

Okay, THAT’S what a pigeon looks like when I’m done with it.

[awkward kung fu moves]

(h/t @Iheartpgh and Mark)

3. Speaking of [awkward kung fu moves], I’m going to start my own meme:

Let’s make it a thing.

4. I received an email from reader Cassie about this letter her daughter dictated to her to send to Sidney Crosby:

Dear Mr. Crosby,

Hi. My name is Claire [redacted] and I am 3 years old. I miss you very much. I wear your jersey pretty much every day when Mommy lets me. I have two. One’s green.

I want your boo boo on your brain to go away, so I drew you a get well card. I hope you get better soon. I miss you.

Love, Claire

A month later, she got a letter back from Sid and an autographed picture.

How cute. I had no idea sports stars still did this. I guess I get so wrapped up in the age of email that I forgot kids still send snail-mail letters to their heroes.

[runs to write Sidney Crosby a heartfelt letter. And to see if stamps are still a thing.]

4.  Benstonium has a Rebecca Black “Friday” parody video up called “Crosby” with all purchases of the song mp3 (only .99!) going to the Mario Lemieux Foundation.

You gotta check it out.

Stunned. Stunned. Stunned. Stunned. Stunned.

And the love note from Dan Potash with FSN crossed out and replaced with Root Sports made me LOL.

Well done!

5. Writers and wannabe writers, check out the Pennwriters conference happening in May at the Pittsburgh Marriott. Lots of awesome things happening during the event and Christopher’s Collages has donated some of his works of art as raffle items.

More info here!

6. Things to go read over at the Pittsburgh Magazine blog are this post about the Falcon Cams at the Aviary. A snippet:

Before you comment and use either the word “disturbing” or the word “boycott,” let me first just say this: It’s the circle of life.

Elton John sang about it.

Embrace it.

And this one about the amazing pop art that AIP student Tyler Kozar created from the wrappers and boxes of the one million Pop-Tarts he won from Kellogg’s.

7. ESPN graded this year’s MLB teams’ official season slogans, with the Pirates getting a solid C for their reuse of last year’s “Pride. Passion. Pittsburgh Pirates.”

Some of the slogans that made me laugh and I swear I am not making them up:

Hustle + Heart 2.0, from the Toronto Blue Jays.

Who’s Your Tiger, from the Detroit Tigers. I’m sorry, I read that slogan and I immediately think of a fashion photographer going, “Who’s your tiger? Who’s your tiger? Show me the mmrowr.”

This is Birdland, Orioles. LOL.

(h/t George)

8. Speaking of baseball, let’s not talk about baseball.

Sigh.

9. Let’s go Pens!

Dear John Steigerwald,

Can I call you ‘Stash?

I bet you’ve been getting lots of mean letters and emails and maybe flaming bags of poo left on your doorstep lately because of what you wrote recently, basically blaming a beating victim, Bryan Stow of California, who rests in a coma after the trauma he suffered at the hands of irate Dodgers fans because he dared wear a Giants jersey to a Dodgers game.

I mean really, who did this paramedic father of two think he was, buying a ticket to go see his team play their first game of the season and having the gross audacity to wear a Giants jersey? That’s begging for a beating! That’s basically walking into a stadium and saying, “Please. Fracture my skull. Take your foot and slam it again and again into my face while I’m on the ground. I deserve it for wearing this devil’s cloak in your place of holy worship. Punish me, for I have sinned. ”

What Bryan should have done was not gone to the game, but since he did choose to go to the game, he should have worn a Target outfit or something. You know, khaki pants and a red shirt.  Because Dodgers fans see a Giants jersey and they can’t help themselves. Like an angry, drunk bull seeing red, they just charge. It’s in their nature. They have no choice whatsoever in the matter. They must act swiftly to mete out justice on behalf of their team.

Mr. Stow should have sat there in his khakis and when his Giants did something good, he should have remained stone-faced, not betraying even the slightest hint that he was cheering on the inside. At most, he could have cracked a half-smile and then pretended the smile was directed toward his delicious stadium hotdog. And if the Dodgers did something good, he should have stood up and cheered and heartily shouted, “Well done, good sirs!” so as not to draw further attention to himself.

So, bravo, John. Bravo for putting the blame where it really lies. On the “victim.”

And another thing, I can’t thank you enough for informing us that purchasing and wearing team jerseys does not in fact make us a member of the team.

I threw on my Polamalu jersey one game last year and they could not escort me out of the locker room fast enough when all I was doing was slapping my teammates’ naked butts with joyous, stinging abandon. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you join the team? It was a hard lesson to learn. If only you had written your column before that, I could have saved myself the bail money.

And my husband. Oh, man. I bought him a Pirates jersey that has Montanez emblazoned across the back. The day after I gave it to him, I found a note that said he had gone to batting practice, and a receipt from Dick’s Sporting Goods for hundreds of dollars in baseball gear. I knew then that I needed to sit him down and gently break the news to him that just because I bought him that jersey, it didn’t actually make him a professional baseball player for the Pittsburgh Pirates.

I will never forget the sound of his gentle, heartbroken sobs as he clutched his newly-purchased athletic cup to his chest. “But … the jersey has my name on it.  It … HAS MY NAME ON IT,” he wept.

Thank you, John. Thank you for giving it to us straight. We’re better people now that we know that wearing a Steelers jersey to a Browns game means we deserve whatever hell we receive, even if it comes in the form of a beating that puts us in a coma. We’re better people now that we know that just because we own a Penguins jersey we can’t start using the team entrance at the CONSOL.

We’re better people now, John. But we’ll never be as good a person as you.

Yours,

Me.

[This has been satire. I have learned my lesson about writing satire without informing you it's satire. THIS IS SATIRE.]