Pittsburgh Dish

Onions over Pittsburgh

Our Fair City featured in satirical online newsproduct

Dish, sadly, is awash in the work we actually get paid for. Therefore, we ain't got much today (or yesterday). For your reading pleasure, we offer you these Pittsburgh-related items recently published in long-time Dish favorite, The Onion.

Our crappy air.

Our crappy baseball team.

Be amused, Dish commands thee.

Fireplug disloyal

Go ahead, move to Green Bay or Oakland, jerk, see if we care

Photo by Frank Kownaki

In a move that stunned area observers, this fireplug attired itself in green and yellow paint, thereby renouncing its allegiance to the city of Pittsburgh and the municipality’s professional sports teams.

Reached for an interview Friday, the fireplug said, “I’ve never really had that herd mentality. I’ve always been my own fireplug. Hell, I don’t even much like supplying water to firefighters.”

“Growing up here,” the fireplug continued, “I’ve just gotten kind of sick of this whole cult of the Black and Gold thing. I mean, people, get a life. Plus, I’ve always had a soft spot for Brett Favre and I kind of fell in love with the A’s when Charlie Finley owned them. Remember when he had the team using orange baseballs? That was awesome.”

In response, an area dog wearing a Steelers bandana around its neck urinated on the fireplug. The fireplug then wept, as it realized it cannot move and will never see Lambeau Field.

Sh*ttsburgh, my ass

The Places Rated Almanac tells Sienna Miller to suck on it

The 330,000 or so of us in this city should be commended for knowing awesome when we live right smack dab in the middle of it. The kindly individuals at the Places Rated Almanac (formerly a Rand McNally publication) have again ranked Pittsburgh aces among the cities in these United States. (Though there may be some truth to the rumor that had Canadian burgs been included, our fair city would have been edged out by Coyote Scrotum, Saskatchewan.)

In any event, being numero uno in the Places Rated Almanac is pretty groovy. Pittsburgh last hit those high heights in 1985. Fantastic. In recent times, Pittsburgh has also garnered recognition for being green (Utne Reader), for being a place where Baby Boomers get it on in surprisingly high numbers (the manufacturers of Cialis tell us so), and for enjoying Ho-Ho's (this is not a joke, but nevertheless is a fine place to make up your own whore-related funny statement). And, it turns out, Time Magazine has listed Penguins center Sidney Crosby among the candidates for Time Magazine's list of the 100 most influential people in the world, known as the Time 100.

So, celebrate this day. Acquire a giant foam "We're Number One" finger, recycle something, pop a handful of Cialis and make love to a 63-year-old while eating a delicious Hostess snack cake and pondering how young Mr. Crosby guides your life. It's the least you can do.

Iron City introduces bottled water

Water under the bridges goes into bottles

Lawrenceville-based Pittsburgh Brewing Co. will add bottled water to its product arsenal.

New ownership in the form of an investment consortium led by East Liverpool, Ohio, resident Tim Hickman, said that now that the company is able to pay its water bills (something previous owner Joe Piccirilli was unable to do, racking up $2 million in debt to the Pittsburgh Water and Sewer Authority) bottling the water responsible for the excellent taste of Iron City Beer, IC Light and other labels seemed a grand way to celebrate the brewery’s liquidity.

The water, called "Clear," should be hitting local grocers by the end of the month. Interestingly, organic foods purveyor Whole Foods has refused to sell the water, despite it's playful new font.

Whole Foods management, based in Austin, Texas, would not elaborate on its refusal.

Steelers announce new logo

Leaning toward the future

Editors note 4/13/07: Sorry. Or, rather, relax. Take a deep breath. This little item was one of Pittsburgh Dish's three April Fools Day pranks. The Rooneys would never do anything like this to Steelers fans. Thanks for popping in, though, and while you're here you might want to check out or Steelers coverage over the past two seasons. Our sports editor, Jody DiPerna, has done an excellent job breaking down the Super Bowl XL season and last year's disappointing 8-8 campaign. Don't forget to look for her return at the beginning of training camp. Read DiPerna's past coverage here.

The Pittsburgh Steelers have announced the first significant uniform change since adding the hypocycloid-rich U.S. Steel logo to the mix decades ago.

The new logo is meant to signify the city’s tendency to lean forward to the future in the wake of the crash of the steel industry.

Team president Arthur Rooney II said, “We thought long and hard about this change, but we are confident that the people of Pittsburgh and members of Steelers nation at large are more than capable of embracing change.”

Rooney said more radical changes were considered. That steel has not been manufactured in the city proper for decades led the team to think about changing the team name entirely. “It was thought that we could recognize Pittsburgh’s advances in medicine or technology. For example, in recognition of organ transplant pioneer Thomas Starzl and the extended diaspora of the region’s population, we though about going with the ‘Pittsburgh Transplanters.’”

Rooney said that thought was briefly given to changing the team colors. “With the city’s dedication to the environment in the form of constructing several ‘green’ buildings, it seemed reasonable to convert to green with blue, for the rivers, used as an accent. Sadly, though, we would have looked like the Seattle Seahawks.”

As regards the logo, Rooney added that, in another change, it will be displayed on both sides of the helmet.

Elephetus makes first appearance

Bears striking resemblance to Howard K. Stern

BREAKING: The first images of one of the Pittsburgh Zoo's pregnant pachyderms' li'l tuskers serve to support the Carnegie Museum of Natural History's dinosaur, Dippy, who says he did not enjoy a night of torrid interspecies loving in the city's east end elephant pen.

Interestingly, though, a close examination of the ultrasound images indicates that the late Anna Nicole Smith's attorney and one of seven claimants to the fatherhood of her newborn-ish daughter may have "gotten a little hay for his donkey" during a surreptitious visit to Pittsburgh.

Dish will continue to give this story the attention it deserves, providing updates as warranted.

Elephants pregnant out of wedlock

Dippy denies paternity rumors

Dippy wasn't going to comment on this story. But when the rumors began swirling, suggesting that Dippy may have been responsible for impregnating Pittsburgh's pachyderms, well, he couldn't help but to respond.

Dippy, it is true, has laid with lions, lambs, stoats, watermelons, and lemurs. He has enjoyed the company of tigers and bears, oh my has he ever. But never, never, never, has he been intimate with an elephant.

Dippy meant what he said and said what he meant, he has not loved an elephant, 100 percent.

Mr. Dish, however, remains a suspect and has refused zoo officials' request for a DNA sample.

Mayor assesses road conditions

Risks life and limb on icy city streets

Breaking news from the Post-Gazette:

Mayor Luke Ravenstahl took a 15-minute ride in a city truck with worker Joe Garrubba, 49, of Beechview, to familiarize himself with what crews were up against in Point Breeze and Squirrel Hill. His assessment, which he shared by cell phone with a radio station audience, was bleak.

"The streets are in bad condition," he said.

Ravenstahl v. Cop

Shocking truth revealed!

So, it seems Mayor Luke (the councilman Luke) got a little tuned up at a Steelers game in 2005 and got into a little tete-a-tete with a representative of the local gendarmes. Frankly, compared to this guy, Luke's conduct, and that of the cop, may have been less then exemplary but at least everyone's trouser snake stayed put. And, furthermore, the guy was 25 and at a Steelers game. Let he without similar sin cast the first stone in this case.

Luke explained himself to the Post-Gazette thusly (Dish translation in bold):

It was at that point that an officer went charging into the crowd, a crowd that included men, women, and children, at which time he was very aggressive and authoritative.

"At which time I, verbally, expressed my objections to the manner in which he was treating the crowd at Heinz Field that evening." Boy, howdy, I was ripped.

"I told him who I was, and I told him I didn't appreciate the way he was treating the fans, and I didn't appreciate the manner in which he represented the city of Pittsburgh," he said. "He expressed back to me that he didn't care for my opinion and didn't care what I had to say. But I didn't back down."Hey, jagoff, stop being such a jagoff, jagoff. Then he told me I was the jagoff, but I'm no jagoff.

"I acknowledged that there was a way that I more properly could have handled talking with him, and he acknowledged that there was probably a way that he could have more adequately handled the situation. We agreed that we were both wrong in some respects, and like men we shook hands." I told Officer Jagoff he was a jagoff and endeavored to strike him in the gonads. I missed. He vigorously beat me about the body and face with his nightstick.

There was no arrest, and no paperwork completed in relation to the incident, he said. "No report was ever issued. Nothing was ever filed."I was on City Council, you think I can't bury a police report? Jagoff.

Mr. Ravenstahl confirmed that he had consumed "some alcoholic beverages" before entering the line, but said he was not intoxicated. He said he used swear words in his interactions with Ofcr. Hoehn, but "at no time did I physically contact the officer."A baker's dozen Coors Lights? Feh! So I called him a poopyhead. I mean, I missed when I went for the nards.

Post-Gazette photo

Mayor, URA announce announcements to be announced

Media swarm outside Garden Theater for announcement.

Photos by Frank Kownacki

Mayor Luke Ravenstahl, members of the Urban Redevelopment Authority and Franco "Super Donut" Harris gathered in front of the Masonic Temple near the corner of North Avenue and Federal Street at noon today to officially announce an impending announcement of developers of 11 properties near the Hut du Horny (known to some as the Garden Theater), which might be taken over by the city through eminent domain. The Garden's owners lost a lower court case late last month, but could appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Hizzhonor, the URA and members of the Grant Street Gang, licking their municipal chops at the prospect of seeing the city's pornographic big screen roll up, asked that potential developers come forth to invest in the boarded up block. Franco is the first to invest dough in the blighted area with plans to open a restaurant in a defunct bar at Federal and North.

The URA plans to announce details of the proposals on their website on Jan. 17. Stay tuned for more announcements.

Housing Boom

Mangers hot this quarter.

Handymen toiled away near the steps of St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church in Bloomfield yesterday, erecting what will be this year's shelter for the Messiah. Using specs from the original structure in Bethlehem, this model is also located next to an Italian-themed parking meter and a BMW.

Little J has yet to be installed, however word from the East is that three fairly thoughtful and experienced fellows are heading this way in anticipation. They are said to be carrying gifts of unknown provenance. Dish is pleased to report that the working gents pictured used Vatican-approved power tools to construct the Shack-O'-the-Lord. Really, nothing welcomes the birth of Jesus like a Milwaukee hammer drill.

North Side casino is harbinger of death

City doomed.

In addition to traffic, prostitution, petty larceny and muggings, the North Shore slots parlor will also bring: Psoriasis, floods, pestilence, hysterical blindness, the rare condition known as "hot  dog fingers," a rift in the time/space continuum, the formation and deployment of an angry squirrel army, ingrown nails (both finger and toe), a lack of Wii video game consoles, a spike in oil prices,  Canadian civil war, a third term for George W. Bush, the reemergence of the Macarena and an outbreak of St. Vitus' Dance.

Furthermore, highways will melt, up will become down, dogs and cats will lie together, the courses of the three rivers will reverse, cookies will no longer taste good, vasectomies will inexplicably  spontaneously reverse, Richard Scaife will run the only newspaper in town, we will no longer be able to see magic in a child's smile, Ron Cook will find something to his liking and jukeboxes will only  contain The Doors.

Another Rocky film will be made, chimps will speak (turns out they'll sound like a cross between Sophie Masloff and Fred Rogers), the Steelers will put their logo on both sides of their helmets, drivers will maintain their speed through tunnels and use their turn signals  (see, some good will come of this), peat moss will become the coin of the realm, the Scientologists will turn out to have been right all along, the badness of Leroy Brown will be found to have been greatly exaggerated, the U.S. will convert to the metric system and, suddenly, it will be rather easy out there for a pimp.

A decision? You bet!

The Gaming Control Board's about to make the call. What are the odds?

UPDATE: We were totally wrong. It's PITG. Still, read our predictions. They are marginally amusing.

We'll tell you. At this late date, within an hour of the GCB's announcement, Dish has obtained the odds, freshly posted in Vegas, for each of the three contenders hoping to make serious bank off the citizens of Pittsburgh and its environs.

Pull that lever and hope for three bars.

Forest City Enterprises (the Station Square proposal):
About that of a one-legged man winning an ass kicking contest.

PITG Gaming (the North Shore folk):
Equivalent to a snowball maintaining its frosty integrity within the less-than-chummy confines of the sulfurous pit known as Clairton. Just kidding, Hell.

Isle of Capri (Mario Lemieux's last hope to become a multi-multi-multi-millionaire rather than just a run-of-the-mill multimillionaire):
Nick Perryesque. In the neighborhood of the Pennsylvania Lottery coming up 666 on April 24, 1980.

Love for a Glove

How one woman's perseverance reunited a man with his clothing.

The situation was grim. Though the Steelers were giving a good and proper thrashing to the Browns that frigid Thursday night, not all was well in the city formerly justly known as the Steel City. As the wind whipped through the rapidly emptying mustard seats at Heinz Field, 24 year-old Jamie of Pittsburgh noticed something was amiss. Glancing into her purse, she saw the item that would sow confusion for days. A man's glove? "Now just what the hell is that doing there?" she thought.

As the days were Xed off the calendar, the confusion grew. Turning to the burgeoning, newfangled communications device, the Intratubes, she posted an ad on Craig's List. In essence, she told the public a glove was lost and would like to be found. She provided scant information on the nature of the glove or the section of the stadium in which she sat. Still, there was hope.

That night's attendance was shy of capacity, less than 60,000 souls braved the weather. Figuring that only 60 percent or so of the crowd was male, that leaves about 36,000 individuals boasting—give or take, considering the prospect of tragic chain saw accidents, hand-generating birth defects and the like—72,000 man hands.

Yes, it would be apt to employ the needle/haystack metaphor here. Dish shall not.

She heard no response from her cry into the web wilderness. She began speaking of the lost glove in her workplace. Paydirt!

Jamie, please tell the story:

"As I was telling my coworker about [Dish's] email [regarding the post on Craig's List], he told me that he lost a glove at the game and described the one he lost. It was the same glove. I met up with him to go home at the end of the night and somehow I ended up with his glove. Not as exciting as I had hoped, but still pretty funny that I took the time to post a craigslist ad and the glove belonged to someone I knew."

Huzzah! The glove is home! The hand is warm! An Aroundchristmastime miracle, indeed! No thanks to the lousy internet.

Jamie is a stellar example of Steeler fans' compassion for lost items. A source in customer relations at Heinz Field told Dish: "You'd be surprised what Steelers fans turn in. Hats, gloves, the usual. But people have brought in diamond rings and watches. We've even seen wads of cash."

So Browns fans, next time a Steelers fan pummels you at Heinz Field, he won't take your wallet and you'll probably get your Dirty Brown Towel back.

The miracle of etched stone

Hairs cut, jobs gained.

Like a willo'-the-wisp rising in some Southern swampland, it appeared one day. On a large stone protecting that sand and gravel yard betwixt the Mon and Interstate 376 is writ these words "Get a haircut & get a good job." One can get a glimpse of this mysterious etching when traffic slows just before the Oakland exit.

But what of it, this vexing writing? Well, a Dish investigation has shown that on Dec. 3, Pittsburghers, motivated by an unseen power, went en masse to their favored salon/barber or dug up the old Flowbee. Mullets were trimmed. Bad dye jobs were abandoned. Pixie cuts and Businessmen's Specials for all.

As of Dec. 4, reports the Department of Labor, Pittsburgh's 4-plus percent unemployment rate plummeted to zero. Further, all these jobs were described as "good." One must marvel. No Pittsburgher is understood to have acquired an advanced degree in that one-day span. Trade schools said they produced no new electricians/HVAC repair folk/carpenters over those 24 hours. Mystified Human Resources departments have come to call this overwhelming supply of well-coiffed, well-qualified candidates as, "The Miracle of That Stone Down by That Sand and Gravel Yard."

What the moniker lacks in brevity, it makes up in accuracy. All Hail the Power of the Stone of Employment Advice! Amen.

Gun raffle shot to *hit

Rifle raffle kerfuffle.

OK, Dish has been known to make stuff up. But this one is true. Pinky swear:

Vanderbuilt, PA—The Indian Creek Valley Mountaineers Parents Association sold raffle tickets to benefit a local youth football league. The prize was a spiffy Remington rifle valued at more than $525 to be presented at the annual gun bash.

The gun ticket puller-outer stuck his/her hand in the big gun ticket barrel and yanked out the big gun winner: Bonnie Hollis, 41.

Bonnie went to claim her firearm but was denied. Seems her grandson sold her the ticket by Little Timmy forgot to turn in the money. Though the seller is kin, Hollis told the Daily Courier "When you sell a ticket, you are supposed to stand behind it.”

Charles Rahmig, president of the ICVMPA, told Little Timmy’s parents that the ticket would be invalid if he didn’t turn in the money or the stubs. LT either spent the money on candy cigarettes and hookers or just plum forgot. Rahmig said the rifle will be held for a future raffle.

Police have labeled the case as an alleged theft with Hollis as the victim. The investigation is continuing.

The ironic thing is that had Bonnie had her own gun in the first place, it's highly unlikely that the rafflers would have held out on her. The lesson? An armed granny is a persuasive granny.

Sienna Miller adopts Pittsburgher

So what if he has a five o'clock shadow.

Noted thespian and renown Pittsburgh-hater Sienna Miller left town over the weekend at the conclusion of filming the silver screen adaptation of Michael Chabon's stellar novel, "The Mysteries of Pittsburgh." With her, she took her haughtiness, her less-than-perfect complexion (airbrushing: A semi-famous actress' best friend), and—taking the lead from Brangelina and Madonna—a new addition to her family.

Miller, who settled on calling the Steel City "Shittsburgh" after testing out and discarding other bon mots such as "Pissburgh," "Titsburgh," "InWorldWarIIWeCalledtheGermansFritzburgh," adopted former Edgar Thompson wire mill employee and current barfly/security guard, Walter Majorac.

Upon the finalization of the adoption, Majorac, 48, of Baldwin, was swaddled in Hermes scarves and loaded into an SUV with tinted windows bound for Pittsburgh International Airport. For his part, Majorac took the adoption in stride: "Mommy says she has a satellite dish. I watch Steelers, yaaaay!"

At the airport, Miller said her motives were altruistic. "To save this child from a lifetime of deprivation living in the clutches of this hilly third world hamlet of decent people with a growing downtown, a world-class orchestra, stunning architecture, myriad entertainment options, swell restaurants and cozy neighborhood pubs makes me feel awesome," she said.

Told Majorac is middle-aged with a wife, three children, and a hinky prostate, Miller paused, muttered, "Um, Shittsburgh," and, with Majorac in an absolutely gigantic papoose-style baby carrier (his feet were on the ground and he—with baby bottles filled with IC Light in each hand—was actually carrying Miller), boarded a commercial airliner headed to "Londumb." Presumably she meant "London."

Miller plans to leave Majorac in the company of a nanny. Her beau, Jude Law, says he finds this prospect intriguing.

Michael Vivar contributed to this article.