And if pirates and indians don’t do it for you there’s another good reason to visit the North Side this weekend.  Specifically, there’s a good reason to visit the Mattress Factory on Sunday afternoon.  There may be a certain food truck involved between 12 pm and 5 pm.

*Please note: The role of the Lost Boys, who never grow up, will also be played by your Pittsburgh Pirates.

Of course, if Gyro Gearloose lived in Pittsburgh and Huey, Dewey, and Louie cheered for the Pirates, things might turn around in a hurry.  But they live in Duckburg and root for the Mallards.  At least there are no Beagle Boys in this ‘Burg(h).  No idea what I’m talking about?  Duck Tales, my friend.

In other news, Allegheny County appears to be moving toward a system where restaurant health inspection results are posted online.  Go ahead, we’re ready!

They should also be made to compete head to head with athletes who have abused steroids in a mental math competition (we need a level playing field) to determine where the real talent lies. Free frankfurters to the winning team!

I put “Styx” in quotations because I know nothing about them other than that they’re very famous and they sing a song called “Mr. Roboto.” Oddly enough, they skipped over that one last night. I put “baseball” in quotations because, well, this is Pittsburgh. Oddly enough, the Pirates won.

Since, deep down, I’m a Yankees fan that’s really not why I’m writing this post.

Instead, I’m writing because tonight it occurred to me that the Pittsburgh Pirates were my host . For that matter, any time I attend any professional “sporting” event the home team is my “host.”

So, shouldn’t the boys in the dugout clean the bathrooms as well as clean up the general debris left around the stadium after a game? I mean it is “their house” after all. I clean my house and its bathroom(s) after guest(s) are over. I suppose people in the income bracket of professional athletes typically hire “maid(s),” but a good thought nonetheless.

On this day in 1928 Peter Matz was born in Pittsburgh, PA. In 1950 Branch Rickey signed a five-year contract to be GM of the Pittsburgh Pirates. And in 2006 I made this historic blog entry from 325 Oliver Avenue.

Why is it historic? Well, ask yourself this. Why did the chicken cross the road? Make sense now? I didn’t think so.

What am I basing that declaration on?

A) When entering Canada, telling the border patrol man that I’m simply going to a baseball game works for him. Whereas when returning to my own country no explanation of why I want to get into the states is immune from scrutiny.
B) Canadians are unbelievably friendly and incredibly excited about the upcoming movie “Snakes on A Plane.”
C) Hot D***a has won a “Canadian Web Award.”
D) During the seventh inning stretch, professional stretchers actually lead you in a stretching routine.
E) I have no way to prove this but when you order a 20 ounce draught at the rotisserie chicken restaurant “Suisse Chalet,” I’m almost certain you get 24 ounces. That’s right, I have reason to believe 20 ounces Canadian is equal to 24 ounces American. I’m around cups all day, people. I know what I’m talking about.

In other news, our soda fountain produced smoke and fire yesterday and now it doesn’t produce anything at all. When Coca-Cola will come to fix it, nobody knows. Finally, I won’t be here next week. So, if you consider yourself my enemy, next week is a great time to come down and see what Hot D***a is all about.

Last night a McDonalds publicity team was on Federal Street asking trivia questions while I was on Federal Street handing out newspapers. Because I knew what a “Number 2 Value Meal” consisted of I won a free Big Mac, soft drink, t-shirt, and water bottle. The strange thing is that a Number 2 on the MickeyD’s menu is a 1/4 pounder with cheese value meal. I’m still wondering why I didn’t win one of those… not that I’m complaining.

I also attended a baseball game last night where I won a free ice cream cone and french fries. As I was leaving the park I stumbled across an untouched plate of nachos.

Today I was handing out newspapers for the Tribune-Review when a woman spontaneously gave me five pieces of delicious pizza as well as an assortment of buffalo wings and celery sticks. I shared my good fortune with a friend.

So, the big question… why am I still hungry?

Let the good times roll. Especially if there’s meat on that roll.

Okay, so I made all that up except for the part about the groin injury.

Right now there are snipers stationed on top of PNC Park and helicopters with huge search lights routinely fly over my apartment. Seriously.

Let’s just say the Bronx Bombers won’t be winning any “2006 Impeccable Timing Awards” as chosen by Tim.

In my opinion, a Major League Baseball team losing 19 to 1 is the rough equivalent of Hot D***a selling only one hot dog on a given day of the week while at the same time having to pay 674% in taxes on the cost of that single frank. Sure it could happen, but there’s no reason that it ever should.