The feud continues...

Love him or hate him, Raimster is a loyal member of the Dong (Donger? Dongite?) and has earned the privilege to send me hate mail.

If you're keeping up with the blog, we're in the midst of a little disagreement regarding the awesome city of Chicago and the sphincter that is Pittsburgh.

To summarize: Pittsburgh has a historically shitty baseball team and can't afford an NBA franchise. The rest of the argument was a little confusing, so I'll conveniently ignore it.

The newest installment from Raimster McShaim:

>>>>>>

Dear DonkeyPornLovers,

Here's what I think of when I think of Chicago: Balls.

See, balls can be wonderful. Toys, even. They can be loving and tender, warm and safe. But balls can also be shriveled and hurtful, embarrassing and disdained. Chicago has such a rich tradition of flat streets, one iconic athlete in the last 30 years, and pizza. But you losers ruin it the same way you ruin everything. You're pessimists. You call it the Windy City and not something more gleeful, like the Breezy City or the Airy City. This is Marketing 101. Lousy negative nancies, you are. Like the picture of my wife you so dutifully exposed to your seven precious readers last week... Sure, she smells like ass and her farts may or may not have caused Katrina, but she's a real peach. Instead of exposing her exposed and sore thighs to the world, why not show the people a picture of the girl who sits next to me every year as I watch my precious black and gold consistently go 7-1 or 8-0 at home.



Kegs, jump on that fast... She turns 17 next week.

Chicago constantly takes the good and makes it bad and that is their facts of life. Which brings me to my next point.

When thinking of the differences between Chicago and Pittsburgh, you can pretty much sum it all up in the TV shows set in our beloved cities. The City of Steel is home to Mr. Belvedere, a wholesome sitcom family, adolescence, and, of course, sports. Mr. Belvedere was raw at times, dare I say racy, but never grotesque or hotheaded. I'd buy any one of the countless high-collar sweaters that covered Tracy Wells' possibly mountainous chest. It ended after a mere 8 seasons, constantly leaving viewers wanting more, not unlike Tracy Wells' sweaters.

Chicago, on the other semen-stained hand, is home to Love and Marriage, a hilarious-if-you-think-a-dude-sticking-his-hand-down-his-pants-is-consistently-funny show about pretty much nothing. The show was annoying every episode. It wasn't just on for a long time. IT WAS ALWAYS ON. It failed to make even a young Christina Applegate appealing and should have been a two minute skit on SNL. Had it been, I probably would have laughed.

In conclusion, I don't regret the day in 1994 I sold my Pirate soul to the devil in exchange for consistently great teams in my other sports.

Don't listen to the TPC, lovely residents of Beaver Falls, Aliquippa, McKeesport. You're a city of winners, optimists, and, most importantly, Mr. Belvedere.

4 hours till Buhrle v.Karstens

Sh. McB.

>>>>>>

So, after shutting out the butt pirates in the first 2 games (6-0), the buckos manage to steal one in the 9th inning of game 3 to salvage a 1-2 series with the ChiSox (despite the Pirates superior record (come on, the NL is a joke anyway). To reverse quote Bobby Jenks:
"The way I look at it is if I blow one out of every 11, and if I get 44 chances, that's a pretty good year."

...And if you put together a good team one out of every 30 years, that's a pretty shitty franchise.

There was also a wonderful article in ESPN this week, outlining the decades of shittitude that the Pirates have had endured since skinny Bonds. A delightful read. 

Sidenote: it's Married With Children (not Love and Marriage, you fuck) and it kicks the living shit out of Mr. fucking Belvedere. And for your information, senior uninformed, Ed O'Neil (aka Al Bundy) was a stud football player in college and was signed by none other than the Pittsburgh Steelers in 1969 as an outside linebacker. Look it up on Wikipedia, babydick.

One last note to our loyal readers - do not allow the hot chick in the Steelers shirt to sway your allegience (uncle Keg will always take care of you):

-KEG