Ms. Adventures on the Mon

The Smoking Gun

2011-04-25T07:16:00.000-04:00

Earth Below Us

2011-04-24T07:12:00.000-04:00

Banned in the USA

2011-04-23T06:48:00.001-04:00

Three Times Seven Is 21

2011-04-22T06:35:00.000-04:00

Would It Be There Forever?

2011-04-21T21:56:00.001-04:00

There's Still Time For You

2011-04-20T21:19:00.002-04:00

Sometimes it Snows in April or "Oh, Fuck"

2011-04-19T13:52:00.004-04:00

It's only a matter of time before The Angry Drunk Bureaucrat wakes up now.

MS. MON HAS A MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE: SHE IS GOING TO START BLOGGING

2010-03-10T09:12:00.005-05:00

On the advent of the fourth anniversary of her blog, Ms. Adventures on the Mon, and much consideration, Ms. Mon has decided that she is going to start blogging.

In order to do that, we are all going to need to summon our suspension of disbelief.

So let's just pretend all of these previous posts (all four years' worth) never happened, and start over, OK?

WE ARE STILL WAVERING BETWEEN QUITTING QUITTING BLOGGING AND JUST QUITTING BLOGGING; QUITTING QUITTING QUITTING BLOGGING ALSO OPTION

2010-03-02T12:06:00.004-05:00

WE NOW INTERRUPT MS. MON QUITTING QUITTING BLOGGING FOR THIS URGENT WEATHER BULLETIN

2010-02-25T22:00:00.000-05:00

It is snowing.

MS. MON ANNOUNCES SHE IS QUITTING QUITTING BLOGGING

2010-02-19T09:52:00.002-05:00

Dear fans,

I've been thinking. Again. After the overwhelming response from my Aunts and Uncles yesterday -- and Sherry -- I have been in emotional turmoil for oh, at least 15 hours, and I think I need to take a step back from this whole "quitting blogging" gig and take a much-needed reprieve.

I never expected that quitting blogging would be so exhausting. But alas, I found myself unable to sleep last night, in the throes of epistolary angst, as I formed this letter in my head to you, which I am now typing.

So, I have decided to quit quitting. In other words, I'm still quitting, but I'm quitting quitting. For now.

Are you following? I know, I had trouble with it, too.

Let me explain it to you more clearly. Because I ran out of things to say, I quit blogging. Well, sort of. But now that I am running out of things to say about quitting, I need to quit quitting, and since two negatives make a positive, it means I'm not quitting. Just yet.

Because even though I don't have anything left to say, and I'm done. With this. (And don't forget about the big void in the universe part!) OK. Just kidding. I mean, while one might not have anything to left to say and find themselves in the position of quitting blogging, there is much to say about NOT blogging anymore.

And, if we were to take that a step further, we could posit, if there is so much to say about NOT blogging, how much out there hasn't been said yet about NOT NOT blogging? The possibilities are exponential.

It does indeed, boggle -- or bloggle, if you will (tee hee) -- the mind.

So, for now, I must go think. Nap. Maybe catch a movie.

Love Always,
Ms. Mon

A FINAL FAREWELL: MS. MON IS CLOSING UP SHOP

2010-02-17T09:00:00.000-05:00

How many ways can one say goodbye?

Many, actually. And until I've exhausted every single one of them, I'm not going to be satisfied.

Forget what I said yesterday. I'm not quitting blogging because of a broken heart.

And forget what I said the day before. What did I say the day before?

The point is, I am quitting blogging.

Forever.

But it's Wednesday, and I have like, a gazillion things to do, so I'm going to have to finish quitting tomorrow.

Hope you have a great Wednesday! See you tomorrow! I'm quitting blogging!

MS. MON'S AUNTS AND UNCLES TURN OUT EN MASSE TO IMPLORE HER TO CONTINUE BLOGGING

2010-02-15T09:00:00.002-05:00

PITTSBURGH, Pa. -- This morning, as Ms. Mon was retrieving her Pittsburgh Post-Gazette print edition from the sullied snow pile in her dormant flower bed next to her driveway, she looked up to see members of her extended family -- peculiarly, only aunts and uncles, no grandparents or cousins -- gathered in front of her home, engaged in thunderous applause.

At first, she thought it was because they were glad to see her finally emerge from her home, stately Grayson Manor. (She did not see her shadow, by the way.)

But then, Uncle Harry, never one to hold back his emotions (and made infamous in her holiday tune, "Harry, The Red-Nosed Mickey," in which she sang of his predilection for eggnog and ensuing uncomfortable family moments) shouted, "You can't quit us now. You must go on. You must blog."

Dee Thompson from WPXI, despite his retirement, was the only reporter present because he is the only reporter awake at 5 a.m., and asked Ms. Mon, now consumed in an utterly fake shower of tears, to describe her reaction.

"Well, Dee. Seriously man, I was only toying with the idea of quitting. The whole quitting thing was pretty noncommittal, if you read between the lines. In fact, I still haven't made up my mind. I'm leaning towards just renaming it," said the beslippered Ms. Mon.

It was estimated that approximately 500 aunts and uncles were present, from parts of the world as far away as Steubenville, Ohio.

"I'm very touched by your show of support," Ms. Mon told the crowd, and she coincidentally adjusted her girdle.

"But I really need a cup of coffee before I can deal with this. And Aunt Miriam, when did you become Aunt Mark?"

Ms. Mon then politely excused herself and went to make coffee and get dressed, it is presumed.

Bram Reichbaum, another Pittsburgh blogger who recently went into "unexplained" retirement, was believed to have been heard, in a somewhat muffled and angst-filled cry that seemed to be coming from Ms. Mon's car: "Please let me out of the trunk now!"

GOODBYE. AGAIN.

2010-02-12T07:00:00.005-05:00

Left: Even a hero couldn't save Ms. Mon

I was thinking.

You really only get one chance to retire from blogging.

So why not make sure you've purged every possible emotion from your being before you move on? I mean, what's the hurry?

What if I wrote this up like it were an obituary? Just for fun and all? I know. I was thinking the same thing. Abso-friggin'-lutely! The real reason Ms. Mon is quitting is because she has a broken heart. So forget everything I said yesterday.

Ms. Mon
March 6, 2006 - February 12, 2010

If only she could have lived those last few weeks to make it to her four-year-anniversary. But that's how things went for her. Always a day early (if she could even remember when she was supposed to be there, and where ought she to be?) and a two cents too much (with all due respect to Lawrence Welk).

Ms. Mon, prominent blogger for Ms. Adventures on the Mon, died last night from complications of losing her soul mate. She was 35 years old. Soft-spoken and obsessive, Ms. Mon never looked the part of a hopeless romantic. But, in the final days of her life, she revealed an unknown side of her psyche. This hidden quasi-Jungian persona surfaced during the Agatha Christie-like pursuit of her long reputed soul mate, a man whom she only spent a few precious hours with. Sadly, the protracted search ended early Thursday morning in complete and utter failure. Yet even in certain defeat, the courageous Ms. Mon secretly clung to the belief that life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. Uh-uh. But rather, it's a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan. Asked about the loss of his dear friend, Chris Potter, award-winning writer, office lothario and editor of Pittsburgh City Paper, described Ms. Mon as a changed woman in the last days of her life. "Things were clearer for her," Potter noted. Ultimately Ms. Mon concluded that if we are to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess a powerful faith in what the ancients used to call "fatum", what we currently refer to as destiny.

MS. MON IS REALLY FINISHED TODAY. FOR WAY REAL.

2010-02-11T10:00:00.002-05:00

OK. I'm back. There were a few more things I needed to get off my chest.

I know that recently I suggested/hinted/tossed about the idea of quitting blogging forever. But today, I mean it. I am quitting blogging. Exiting stage left. Turning in the Terrible Towel. Giving up the ghost. Boo! Did I scare you? Good.

I was thinking that before I exit stage left, more time needs to be devoted to the rumination of my self-annihilation, and it would be cathartic for us all to pull up a Pittsburgh Parking Chair, sit back, relax (maybe get a massage?) and engage in some gentle discourse.

Please Discuss.

Now that we've all introduced ourselves, I want to share with you the reason I must quit blogging. (Did I mention forever, by the way? I just want to be 100% certain my point is coming across. I'm quitting blogging. For good people. For. Good.)

You see, people have been cyberstalking me. Trying to figure out who I am, and the thing is, I don't want you to know that I'm Frances Sansig Monahan. It would ruin me. It would ruin the integrity of my blog. It would ruin the mystique. The fun. The je ne sais quois.

We don't want that to happen. So I can't let you know I'm Frances Sansig Monahan. Or Frances Monahan if you don't feel like typing out three names. (And who could blame you? Damn feminists. I wonder if anybody's ever studied their contribution to carpal tunnel syndrome.)

So yeah. Some real idiots have had the audacity (because-I'm-so-special-and-my-identity-is-so-sacred-that-I'm-willing-to-have-lunch-with-every-editor-in-town -- OK, that part's real -- as long as you're payin') to threaten to reveal who I am. And I can't let that happen. If you find out I'm Frances Monahan, then you know, things will be different.

Kind of like when Ellen came out of the closet? Remember -- it stalled her career a bit. But man, did she return big time. Funny lady, that Ellen.

So anyway, I want you to know that others spoiled the fun. I'd tell you about them, but I don't want you to hate them or draw more attention to myself. For example, there was this guy, see, and he was real close to telling you that I'm Frances Monahan, and I just couldn't let that happen. (That's Frances with an e, by the way -- not an i. People always misspell it and it drives me bonkers. So remember, e = feminine spelling, i = masculine. Got that? Good. So that's F-R-A-N-C-E-S. Also, there are two common spellings of my last name. Mine is sans the "g." So that's M-O-N-A-H-A-N. Not Monaghan.)

What a turd, huh? I mean, how dare someone try to figure out who I am. I mean, I'm only telling them EVERYTHING ABOUT ME EVERY DAY AND MY FAMILY AND TAKING PICTURES OF MY SURROUNDINGS.

(Wow. Do you know how tough this is for me to find all these words, considering I have nothing left to say? I'm diggin' deep man. For you, my faithful readers. And the ones who haven't been so faithful. See you Saturday, by the way. Your wife's out of town this weekend, right?)

Yeah. It takes a lot of freaking balls to put two and two together, when they're being handed to you on a silver platter. The last thing I ever wanted to happen was for you to find out I'm Frances Monahan. But I do want you to know that I'm never blogging again.

I'm really, really, really never posting another thing on this blog.

Tear-stained letters have already started to trickle in, and I know how sad you are. On the verge of depression, I imagine. I mean, let's think about it. Here I am, running this fantastic blog that maybe 100 people a day read, and then poof! like that, it's gone. You will be angry first, then sad, then the acceptance will begin to take hold. I am asking you, as my solid fans, to just start accepting now. Skip the anger, the sadness and the gamut of emotions you may be inclined to experience and just accept.

Accept.

Because Frances Monahan is never blogging again.

Sniff.

I mean it. Ms. Mon aka Frances Monahan is through.

Please, your pleas are worthless. I'm done.

With this.

UP-TO-THE-MINUTE COVERAGE OF BLIZZARDBURGH: UNCONFIRMED REPORTS OF THE FIRST CASUALTY HAVE BEEN DISCLOSED TO THIS NEWS SOURCE

2010-02-05T23:00:00.001-05:00

ONLY ON MS. ADVENTURES ON THE MON! WE HAVE EARLY REPORTS THAT THE FIRST CASUALTY OF WHAT WILL SURELY COME TO BE KNOWN AS THE "GREAT BLIZZARD OF TWENTY-TEN" MAY HAVE BEEN A MEMBER OF THE MEDIA ... THEY HAVE NOT BEEN CONFIRMED ... AGAIN, THIS IS ONLY SPECULATION ... BUT IT APPEARS THAT BLOGGER MS. MON WAS ENSNARED IN A RUNAWAY ROLL OF CHARMIN AS SHE WAS EXITING THE BRENTWOOD GIANT EAGLE, AND SUBSEQUENTLY TRIPPED AND FELL INTO THE PATH OF AN ONCOMING TASTYKAKE TRUCK ... A WITNESS TOLD US THAT ALL THAT REMAINED INTACT WAS MS. MON'S SHOCK OF BLOND HAIR -- "IT WAS IRONIC," SAID THE SHOPPER, "SINCE I KNEW HER AND THAT WAS THE ONE THING ABOUT HER THAT WAS NEVER INTACT" ... SHE IS IN CRITICAL CONDITION ... WE THINK ... BUT WE REALLY DON'T KNOW, AS WE ARE JUST MAKING THIS UP AS WE GO ALONG ... BUT WE DO HAVE THIS PHOTO TO SHOW YOU FROM HER BED ... WHILE THIS IS YET AS UNCONFIRMED, IT HAS BEEN PASSED ALONG TO US THAT THE LAST WORD SHE WAS HEARD TO UTTER WAS, "FUELPERKS" ...

MS. MON HAS A MAJOR, IMPORTANT, LIFE-ALTERING AND URGENT ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!

2010-02-04T10:30:00.000-05:00

She is pontificating retiring from blogging. Because she has really run out of things to say. She has nothing left to say, it seems. In fact, it is amazing that she continues to type, considering she is so done with blogging it's not even funny. She just can't think of anything. She's a blank. A zip. A zilch. A null. A nada. A zero. She's done. That's it. She is just going to stop blogging, she thinks, forever and ever and all eternity and ad infinitum. So she wants you all to know that SHE MAY NEVER BLOG AGAIN. SHE HAS NOTHING TO SAY. SHE IS DONE. Well, maybe. But no, seriously, she is going to quit blogging. And nothing is going to change her mind, and she's glad she could keep this so short. Because brevity makes impact, people. It gives one pause. Time to smell the roses. Relish life. Relish hot dogs.

I can't go on anymore. I'm done. In fact, I'm so sure I'm finished, I'm going to repeat that. I'm done. Done, done, done. OK. I'm just thinking about it at this point. But I am thinking about it VERY SERIOUSLY. GRAVELY. EARNESTLY. HONESTLY.

WITH MUCH SOLEMNITY. (And a thesaurus at my side.)

There is no way anybody's talking me out of this, so don't even try. Your pleas for me to continue blogging will be met with great resistance. I will not cave. Give in. Concede. Acquiesce. (That's what I can do without a thesaurus. I just spilled my coffee all over it.)

So, as I said, there's no use if you want to try to keep me from quitting. It's not really quitting, though. I am just moving on. Because I have absolutely nothing to say. And I'll say it again. To emphasize.

I'm finished.

Through.

Fried.

Toast.

Gone for good.

Forever.

OK. Not yet. But close.

And that's why I'm keeping this so short. Because when I say I'm done, I mean it, and I want you to experience the full drama of this quitting, with me. Now let's breathe together and repeat: Ms. Mon is going to stop blogging, and my life may never be the same.

Did I tell you I may never blog again?

I know this comes as a great shock to you, but I have been mulling over this for a while. Ruminating. Excogitating, in fact. No. Really. Have you ever met me? Total excogitater. Is there an excogitater in the house? Yo! That's me! Present! And guilty as charged, sir.

Hi. My name is Ms. Mon. And I'm an excogitater.

Who has nothing left to say.

And is going to be done blogging. Soon.

Maybe.

I know that you are deeply concerned, and I appreciate this. I know you are asking yourself questions like, "How can I go on?" and "Whatever will I do?"

And that's because you know that when I'm finished here (which is going to be really, soon, because I am making an official announcement, perhaps) that life will never be the same.

Things will be different.

Daily, you will wake up and ask yourself, "Why? Why? Why? Why did she stop? And why can't I stop thinking about her?"

And you will have these thoughts everyday until the day you die. And I just know it, which is why I want to announce that I may never blog again and your vain attempts to intercede will be met with much implacableness. Much. Did I say much?

Kingdoms will fall. Empires will collapse. The economy? Eh, not my field of expertise.

So anyway, I am quitting the business. Forever. Probably.

Did I tell you I am retiring from blogging, and I just don't have anything left to say on the matter?

I know. It's devastating.

That. I. Don't. Have. Anything. Left. To. Say.

I am through. Through, I tell you!

Finished.

This is my last blog post.

Of all time.

I mean it.

Yep.

GOODBYE, PITTSBURGH COMET: REQUIEM FOR A BLOG

2010-02-02T15:33:00.005-05:00

Watching your blog wind down, Bram, fondly reminded me of this:

But you and I both know, old bloggers never die -- they just hold out for pay. :-)

I Know Arlen Specter is One

2010-01-17T10:21:00.001-05:00

But refresh me ... who is our other state senator?

Oh, Heavens. Another Pittsburgh Blogger is Throwing in the Towel!

2010-01-06T20:27:00.002-05:00

I wasn't ready to do this just yet, but I guess I'm going to have to fake quit blogging again, too.

I will sleep on it, and render my thoughts in the morning.

Godspeed, Bram. We'll go down together.

THE WOMAN WITH THE WISPY BANGS WINS OUR HEARTS, RICKY MARTIN DANCES!

2010-01-06T06:19:00.008-05:00

We at Ms. Adventures on the Mon promise that this will be the most succinct analysis on the Pittsburgh City Council presidency election. Really -- what more is there to say? Sing it, Ricky!

The Office: Pittsburgh

2010-01-02T08:58:00.008-05:00

Starring

Luke Ravenstahl as Michael Scott

Bill Peduto as Jim Halpert

Patrick Dowd as Dwight Schrute

Doug Shields as Andy Bernard

Darlene Harris as Phyllis Lapin-Flance

Bruce Kraus as Oscar Martinez

Ricky Burgess as Stanley Hudson

Jim Motznik as Holly Flax

Tonya Payne as Darryl Philbin

Theresa Smith as Pam Halpert

Assorted Ambassadors as Occasional Characters

Dirty Deeds, Done Dirt Cheap

2010-01-01T13:02:00.001-05:00

Don't say we didn't warn you.

On the Eve Eve of Destruction

2009-12-30T07:59:00.008-05:00

After I "tweeted" a comment made by Pittsburgh police officer Eugene Hlavic last night that he made to newspeople (I watched it as it was aired on the WTAE 11:00 p.m. news) -- and remarked that his attitude was certainly not going to win him the compassion of the people, I see that a Post-Gazette reporter also thought his tone was defiant.

I'm still trying to figure out how blogger/activist/etc. guy Matt Hogue placed 1,236 requests to the city's 311 line since October 2006. This averages out to 412 complaints per year. (Please note there are only 365 days per year.) I'm going to assume that 311 doesn't operate like your PCP and will address more than one problem per visit. But still, that's a lot of calls. That's what I call commitment. I think Mayor Ravenstahl should give him a job. I wonder if there are any openings for 311 operators.

Over at Pittsburgh Lesbian Correspondents, they are celebrating their FOUR YEAR BLOGIVERSARY! I am not giving you their link, as it seems that with the reaching of this anniversary, their rights to the domain name have expired. I'm sure Sue Kerr is busy working on that as I type this. I am writing a guest post for them (as are as some others, including Maria Lupinacci) in honor of their achievement, and as soon as Sue has somewhere for me to post it, I expect it will be up this week sometime.

I have few thoughts on politics this week, so I'm going with the Chris Potter assertion that politics are often not genuinely interesting and will keep comments short. On twitter, City Councilor-elect Natalia Rudiak (go, Carrick!) challenges Potter's cynical view (or is that redundant?) and says she intends to make politics interesting. I say, let's give her a chance. If she can do that, maybe she can show me a way to make doing taxes interesting. If she can show me how to make paying taxes interesting, I'm voting for her for president. If she can do something about the fact that I am taxed both on the money I earn AND the money I spend (has anyone else caught on to this, or is it just me?), I will give her my first-born child. Especially now that it's time to pay for college.

And finally, somewhat out-of-place here, a final goodbye to a man who influenced me, Dennis Brutus. As a reporter at The Pitt News, I was deeply interested in what he had to say and so I covered the battle over the University of Pittsburgh's divestment from South Africa and the anti-apartheid movement. That experience will never leave me, for it is because of my experiences with Brutus, Pitt's Board of Trustees and the students who built shanty towns that I discovered who runs the world. I see history repeats itself.

Repetition is bad, you say?

You Never Count Your Money When You're Sittin' at the Table

2009-12-29T09:32:00.004-05:00

While all you math geeks try to figure out what the odds are of the Steelers making the playoffs, I prefer to rely on blind faith, a quick gin and tonic (ask Gab Bonesso about that) and some kicky accessories.

But bring the prospect of personal wealth gain into the picture, and I'm all ears. Not that I'm a gambling woman. Which is why, of course, I have no idea how to beat the Pennsylvania scratch-off lottery ticket odds.

A (odds, marked on all cards) X 2.5 + 1 = B (how many consecutive cards one must purchase to have a guaranteed winner).

This formula valid in Pennsylvania only. If you want the secret to winning scratch-offs in other states, you'll have to ante up. But remember, a "winner" could be nothing more than a free ticket. (Gus, Pennsylvania's second-most famous groundhog, has a weakness. Have you ever asked yourself why he scratches so much?)

And I have never studied the Garcia-Pelayo family, who found out a way to work biased roulette wheels. Nope, never heard of them. I'm too busy trying to figure out what to wear.

Now, once the Steelers do make those playoffs, try not to bother me, because I'll be busy studying the over-under deciding what to wear for the party and whether of not I should parlay what dish to bring.

VIVIAN, THE ANGRY COPYREADER, REFLECTS ON PAST YEAR, CONCLUDES MS. MON IS WORST BLOGGER EVER

2009-12-28T09:47:00.006-05:00

COALITION OF HEARING-IMPAIRED SECULARISTS INVADE PANAMA

2009-12-22T09:00:00.000-05:00

LEADER OF VIGILANTE ORGANIZATION DECLARES, "WE MUST WIN THE WAR ON ISTHMUS ONCE AND FOR ALL"

City of Pittsburgh: 100, Coffee at Hoi Polloi: Courtesy of Friends, Ms. Mon: Priceless

2009-12-21T15:15:00.011-05:00

There's something to be said for schadenfreude. But little when it's not mine.

In all fairness, the Steelers winning was a special event.

The ironic thing is, had my partners in crime and me not launched into a discussion over the Pittsburgh Parking Chair -- and this discovery -- I might have not gone over that extra 19 minutes. (That's my friend, who goes by the stage name of "Luara" giving the thumbs up in the photo.)

In other news, it seems the Luke Ravenstahl has been promised something, but we're really not sure what, by three nonprofits, and the students have emerged victorious over a 1% tuition tax. Thank GOD the local universities care about them so much.

I have also found the perfect Christmas gift for Pittsburgh City Council:

The game would also be a great gift for Chad Hermann of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette-hosted Radical Middle blog, but I suspect that, over the holidays, he may be too busy to play games because he is working on a 312-part series to prove that Holocaust statistics are faulty in order to better relations with Jewish-Americans.

Happy holidays. I'm taking some time off.

Pittsburgh to Pay Carpenter to Evaluate 'Parking Chairs'

2009-12-17T23:20:00.010-05:00

South Side, Dormont to be Especially Targeted

by Mitch Gaylord, Ms. Adventures on the Mon

The Pittsburgh Parking Authority plans to pay a carpenter known only as "Joseph" to assess the financial ramifications of the local practice of using a "parking chair" -- and in some cases, two -- to reserve spaces for vehicles on city and adjacent borough streets for indefinite periods of time.

According to Authority Executive Dan Onorato, the money will come from the windfall it has received from The Rivers Casino.

The Authority Board voted to allow Mr. Onorato and Three Wise Men overseeing the use of parking chairs, cones, cement-filled buckets and the like to accept a bid from among several carpenters. Pittsburgh's own Mackenzie was in a close second, but could not match the offer of "free" from Joseph, whose address is registered as a post office box in Bethlehem, PA.

Mr. Onorato said the authority may not have that much cash ready, but plans to invoke the rob Peter to pay Paul rule.

Mayor Luke Ravenstahl wants to use the data gathered by Joseph to pay a private firm to regulate the use of parking chairs, in the hopes of replenishing the city's supply of gold, Frankincense and Myrrh.

Faux News Skates to Victory

2009-12-16T16:43:00.012-05:00

It would be phenomenal if the Stephen Colbert issue of Sports Illustrated outsold the swimsuit issue this year.

Given our nation's current political and ecomonic climate, it wouldn't surprise me if and more men preferred fake news to fake breasts. Or at least gave them both fair play. Ahem.

And speaking of fake, is it me, or does Joe Lieberman's virtual office also seem a bit unreal? I can't help but feel he's playing a dual role like Julie Christie did -- the ardent rebel and the compliant wife -- in Truffaut's film adaptation of Ray Bradbury's Farenheit 451.

Where is Billy Ray Cyrus when you need him most? Oh, that's right. On another show, that coincidentally, features a young actress in a dual role ...

A DRAMATIC REENACTMENT OF LAST NIGHT'S STEELERS GAME (FEAT. SHELLEY WINTERS AS CASEY HAMPTON)

2009-12-11T09:54:00.003-05:00

HUNTER'S PHOTOS STIR BOB CASEY, JR.- BIGFOOT DEBATE AGAIN

2009-12-07T12:30:00.002-05:00

RIDGWAY, Pa. (Dec. 7) - It's furry and walks on all fours -- when it's not sleeping, of course, which has been documented to be up to ninety percent of the 24-hour day. "The other hour, he seems to keep busy inducing somnolence in his constituents," chuckled a bystander with very poor math skills* during this Ms. Adventures on the Mon interview who wished to remain anonymous, mostly because she was the interviewer.

Beyond that, about the only thing certain about the critter photographed by a hunter's camera is that some people have the notion it could be a Sasquatch. Others say it's just Democratic Senator Bob Casey, Jr. wandering around with a bad skin infection.

Hunter Barbara "Babsy" Gump says she got the pictures from a camera with an automatic trigger that she fastened to a tree in the Allegheny National Forest, about 115 miles northeast of Pittsburgh, hoping to photograph deer. "Until experts look at the photographs," she told reporters, "I'm may just have to assume this is as much of a crazy hallucination as Casey's finding a middle ground on abortion.

"Right now, we can't ascertain exactly what the outcome of this investigation will be," Gump said of the images captured on December 6. "I've been hunting for years and I've never seen anything like this. I wouldn't be completely disappointed if it was Bob, though, because he's just as elusive as Sasquatch, though not nearly as interesting."

She contacted the Bob Casey, Jr. Research Organization, which pursues reports of spottings of the politician that some people believe lives in parts of Pennsylvania and in the winter months, Cancun. The group posted a photo captured by Gump on its Web site, http://www.bfro.net/.

"It appears to be a primate-like animal. In my opinion, it appears to be a juvenile Sasquatch," said Clancy Jones of the Casey group. However, the Pennsylvania Game Commission has a more conventional opinion. Agency spokesman John Jackinofsky said conservation officers routinely trap Casey to be tagged and monitor his whereabouts, and often see animals that look like Sasquatch in the photos, and can tell the difference.

"There is no question it is Bob Jr. with a severe case of mange," Jackinofsky told our parent company, WMON Communications.

* Ninety percent of 24 is 21.6 according to our copyreader, Vivian, which means, sadly, he actually has 2.4 hours to induce somnolence in his constituents. As a matter of fact, our reporter fell asleep twice during the writing of this story.

You decide: Senator Bob Casey, Jr. or Bigfoot?

Having trouble understanding? Make sure your SAP setting is correct!

THIS JUST IN: THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS ISSUED A SEVERE SNOWGLOBE ALERT FOR THE GREATER PITTSBURGH AREA

2009-12-02T20:00:00.001-05:00

*** THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS ISSUED A SEVERE SNOWGLOBE ALERT AS THE RESULT OF HIGH WINDS *** PLEASE BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR ANY AND ALL GIANT, INFLATABLE OUTDOOR CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS THAT HAVE BECOME UNTETHERED *** IN THE EVENT YOU SHOULD ENCOUNTER ONE, IN THE INTEREST OF PREVENTING FURTHER EROSION OF GOOD TASTE IN AMERICA, THE DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND DECORATION SECURITY URGES YOU 'TO TAKE NO PRISONERS' ***

BRENTWOOD PASSES BUDGET; STEELERS COACH MIKE TOMLIN SAYS "GOOD CHANCE" THEY COULD PLAY THIS SUNDAY

2009-12-01T20:17:00.014-05:00

BRENTWOOD, PA (WMON) -- Brentwood Borough Council passed lots of gas last night, and in the process, not only impressed Pittsburgh Steelers Coach Mike Tomlin, but approved its 2010 budget during a special meeting held in place of last week's usual meeting, which was adjourned after four of the seven members reported having concussions.

An announcement was made during the meeting that it would be rescheduled for tonight, but since the members with concussions were still feeling a bit woozy, they apparently misheard what was actually taking place, and showed up with assorted nieces, nephews and grandchildren to see what they expected to be a "clownful greeting."

Calling last night's meeting "illegal," council members David Wenzel and Janice Boyko refused to take part and left the council table to sit at the children's table and color Santas for the Brentwood Business Owners Association's annual contest. Council president Jay Lieb warned them that only one entry would be accepted.

Lieb said he called for a special meeting to be held last night in order to hold two meetings during the month of November. The reporter of this very true and actual story (me) could no longer keep track of this ridiculousiosity as it was originally reported by the unfortunate woman (can I buy you a drink, seriously?) sent by the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, so she gave up trying. Brentwood solicitor George Gobel said the borough code does not require two meetings a month, because he hadn't said anything yet at the meeting, and wanted to make sure he got his name in the newspaper.

Both yesterday's and tonight's meeting times were advertised in Saturday's Tribune Review on purpose because everybody in Brentwood reads the Post-Gazette. Council voted last night to cancel tonight's meeting, because none of them could remember what it was about anyway.

Mr. Gobel said it was legal for Mr. Wenzel to reschedule last week's meeting for the following Tuesday but that it was also OK for Mr. Lieb to call a special meeting and act on borough business, because Mr. Lieb helped him obtain a zoning variance to erect a Morey Amsterdam statue on his front lawn that was two feet over the height limit for such lawn ornamentation.

So much time was spent on discussing the legality of the meeting and the meetings prior and subsequent as well as imaginary meetings that the budget was passed in a record-breaking 3 seconds, which Tomlin said was good enough for him to let them start against the Raiders on Sunday.

Gobel was selected as solicitor after a dispute over naming the a new shopping development anchored by a Giant Eagle, because of his reputation as being a square. Some school board members, whose math SAT scores were not available at press time, said that calling it Brentwood Towne Center was out of the question since it was not exactly in the center of town. Further wackiness ensued shortly thereafter. It is unknown if anyone involved had concussions at that time of the aforementioned debates. To date, no one has explained why the Towne Square is actually a rectangle.

Mr. Wenzel and Mrs. Boyko did not vote, but were seen arguing over crayons. Council member Mario Richards was absent. Paul Lynde was marked as deceased and Charo had an approved leave to perform at the The Rivers Casino that night. Darlene Harris was present and accounted for.

The budget will not increase property taxes, which council members aren't really sure of, and didn't seem to have any numbers for expenditures and revenues because they were all busy coloring by the end of the meeting in an attempt to win a bicycle helmet.

The borough had lower-than-expected utility costs last year. Residents on the "poor side" of Brentwood which abuts Carrick attributed this to the fact that holiday lights are not turned on on Brownsville Road once you get to the $150,000 homes on the street.

FRIDAY MS. MON-IN-THE-MORNING VIDEO DEDICATION: THIS ONE GOES OUT TO LUKE RAVENSTAHL AND HIS LAWYER!

2009-11-27T04:29:00.003-05:00

Brought to you by 96.8 - WMON!

AFTER POST-GAZETTE EDITORIAL CLAIMS "DEATH BY DOUGHNUT" ON THE RISE, POLICE RESPOND TO DOZENS OF DISTRESS CALLS OVERNIGHT

2009-11-23T09:46:00.006-05:00

An officer successfully talked this man out of consuming this doughnut and redirected him to the nearest cupcake shop.

DON'T FORGET YOUR DYING LOVED ONE THIS TIME OF YEAR!

2009-11-21T10:22:00.004-05:00

Above: If only he'd have had a mental health evaluation before taking that seasonal job.

Just a li'l something special for the person in your life with a terminal illness!

http://www.givewell.com/how-it-works/

EPIDEMIOLOGISTS REPORT TWITTER PANDEMIC HAS OFFICIALLY REACHED PITTSBURGH, LOCAL CHICKENS FEARFUL THEY WILL CATCH "TMI FEVER" FROM HUMANS

2009-11-19T10:00:00.002-05:00

SEVERAL UNFORTUNATE FOWL ALREADY INFECTED

"I am compelled, like moth to flame, to tweet every moment of my life in microcosmic detail, to find significance in that which is mundane, glean meaning from the inconsequential, discover brilliance in the vacuous, and ultimately, tender my words for immortality -- before I am forced to surrender my tenderloins to Colonel Sanders."

Charlie the "serious, blogging chicken," who operates the blog, nofillerallflavor.com. And also freelances for Ms. Adventures on the Mon.

BLOGGER TAKEN INTO CUSTODY DURING PITTSBURGH MAYORAL ELECTION

2009-11-04T00:56:00.003-05:00

PITTSBURGH -- A local blogger who goes only by the name of Chadd Hanging was arrested last night for disorderly conduct after he was seen attempting to convey a message to the grammar police by hopping and skipping in a hostile manner while watching the mayoral race on local television news. He subsequently failed a field E.B. White Elements of Style test, was taken into custody and immediately booked.

He demanded that a reporter for this news agency this morning (me) -- through stomping and with the aid of "Pictionary"-type drawings -- tell him who had been elected mayor. The reporter, far too amused by his herky-jerky body mechanics and stick figures, refused to tell him until he became exhausted and folded his hands in prayer. Then, she pretended that she was going to tell him by parting her lips ever so slightly, but simply smiled and said she had to take a call from her mother and would get back to him later. Or never, whichever came first.

Hanging, who may perhaps be best known as author of the book, "The Man Who Was Thirsty," was at Hijacks, a South Side watering hole where the quirky are known to gather. Witnesses say that Hanging was watching KDKA news election results at the bar with a unicorn and a man dressed up as Groucho Marx at the time of the incident. When the bartender noticed the commotion, he called paramedics first, thinking that Hanging was experiencing a seizure after seeing the lead Luke Ravenstahl had on his opponents, but when it became evident that his middle finger did not seem to be affected by his dyspraxic condition, police were called to investigate.

Ms. Mon, the author of this story and editor of this publication (me), whose relationship with Hanging has always been rather dicey due to his affiliation with a quasi-illustrious group mysteriously known only as "Smawm," had been using grant money by the Human Fund for Bloggers Who Work for Free to decipher the language Hanging had begun to create years ago as a way to communicate secretly with wasps. Critics once called him a wasp apologist for his believed endeavor, saying, "Everyone knows bees hold the key to unlocking the mysteries of civilization. Wasps are merely the pariahs of the entomological world."

"Me and my team of researchers, which as you know -- now includes Luke Ravenstahl's chief of staff Yarone Zober -- have deciphered a few key words, such as rainbow, Skittles, happy clouds and mayor. We think he may be some sort of disciple of painter Bob Ross, what with his broad sweeping strokes and all, but it's too soon to tell. Something tells us we may be on to something that isn't as big as we think. Again, it's too soon to tell. But until the grant money runs out, I'm obligated to continue my study.

"We certainly want to work with Hanging. He has much to gain from a partnership, including our willingness to give him a very generous endowment, something we believe that his wife may enjoy as well," said Ms. Mon.

MAYOR CALLS ON GOD TO HELP 'SAVE HIM FROM HIS OWN STUPIDITY'

2009-11-02T08:00:00.001-05:00

by Mitch Gaylord
City Hall Reporter
WMON

"It's about saving me from myself," said Mayor Luke Ravenstahl to a group of reporters and community leaders at a special breakfast held at the Omni William Penn Downtown on the morning of this election eve.

Ravenstahl confessed candidly to the group that he feels only "divine intervention" can keep him from his history of deceit, brazen missteps and "lame attempts at duping the citizens of this great town into thinking I know what I'm doing, when really, I don't have a freakin' clue."

God would not speak to us directly, but issued this statement at presstime: "Luke is just going to have to hold onto his little britches for a while. I've got to do something about those damn Pirates first."

PLEASE EXCUSE US WHILE WE MAKE SOME NECESSARY TECHNICAL UPGRADES

2009-10-29T19:45:00.000-04:00

MINISTRY OF SILLY WALKS PLANS PROTEST RALLY AT NOON TOMORROW, MARKET SQUARE; ANGRY AT G-20 DISENFRANCHISEMENT

2009-09-28T21:52:00.009-04:00

PROTESTERS TO "WALK SILLY IN ALL SORTS OF WAYS AND SUCH" TO EXPRESS "EGREGIOUS OVERSIGHT" OF SOME SORT OF SILLY NATURE OR ANOTHER

"Anyone who tries to take way our rights to walk silly will be surrounded by silly walkers until they see just how silly this all is," said a civil servant who did not wish to be named, as he walked away, all silly-like.

AND AS THE G-20 KEPT GOING ON ... AND ON ... SO DO WE ... BUT AFTER TONIGHT, WE'RE DONE! THIS POST BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE LETTERS S, T, U AND UM, "EU"

2009-09-28T19:48:00.009-04:00

Oh Saudi Arabia, what's it like to be the world's leading exporter of petroleum?

South Africa. How did you get so rich?

T'Pau knew of the the Vulcan heart -- and Seoul.

And Turkey -- at least you don't have the Ottoman Empire anymore, right?

I had only one request when it was time for you to leave, United Kingdom, and you just blew me off.

What -- you thought this was an anthem?

European Union, I'm glad we all got together. Or did we? Maybe, someday, in the far, far, away future, this will be us.

FINAL COVERAGE OF THE G-20, ALPHABETICALLY: I, J, M and R

2009-09-25T23:46:00.013-04:00

Goodbye India. You're MIA now.

Oh, Indonesia, why do you sound like Bobby Vinton? Let's all sing along! Kau datang dan pergi, means that I love you so ... (Really it means you come and go, but that rhymes just as well!)

Stereotyping Italians is so yesterday. I want to show them in a whole new light:

I will miss you, Japan. I am glad your prime minister is not as misanthropic as the big guy in this video.

Adios, Mexico. You deserve miracles.

To Russia, with love.

WE NOW INTERRUPT OUR URGENT, BREAKING, CATACLYSMIC COVERAGE OF G-20 FOR THIS: MS. MON IS BREAKING UP WITH YOU, GROUP OF 20

2009-09-22T09:51:00.009-04:00

Dear G,

It's not you. It's me.

While I'm very flattered that such a famous entity has attempted to win my love, it's just too much. I don't feel the same way about you.

I admit, I've never been wooed by military helicopters before. That was quite a statement. Placing banners all over the city, gee -- I mean, "G" -- that was better than the billboard I got for my 30th birthday on Butler Street. ("Flirty, Flirty Look Who's 30!")

It's just that, well, power and wealth don't impress me much. Though, I admit it was quite brilliant of you to speak to me in French over coffee yesterday morning. Your accent was southern Alsatian, even, which, had it not been so creepy that you know so much about me, was quite remarkable indeed.

It all just happened too fast. You're a shooting star, G. Glorious, bright and streaming in the sky, pure gold at the speed of light, and but a distant, star-dusty memory in the blink of an eye.

You, the mysterious stranger arriving in my fair city, and I, but a beautiful citizen who has caught your attention. But I want something lasting. And while you make promises, I know that you are married to your career, and your need to rule the world trumps any love you could ever have for a single human being. And I am just not the kind of woman who likes to wait. Just ask all the people I've given the finger to while stuck in the traffic jams you've caused.

It appears that you have created a small Trojan War by your dalliances with me, and as much as I love you (but not in that way), my heart belongs with my people of Pittsburgh. May your depature be swift and merciful.

My children and grandchildren and their grandchildren will all ask me about you ("Tell us, grammy, tell us about the time G courted you!"), and I will simply smile. Then I will sit them down, in semi-circle fashion, and tell them in modern-day framing device style in the cabin of a salvage ship, a story that lasts 194 minutes. And when I am finished telling the story of our class struggle, of the nude sketch, and of my general disdain for Irishmen (I'll be very old, so I am going to go off on tangents, OK?), I will toss the beautiful piece of jewelry from you they are searching for -- "The Heart of the Monongahela" -- into the river.

Anyway, I'll e-mail you. But I just can't give you what you want right now, so it's best you move on.

Godspeed, and don't let the door hit you on the way out.

Ms. Mon

G-20: THE ALPHABETICAL MUSICAL COUNTDOWN COVERAGE CONTINUES!

2009-09-21T09:04:00.008-04:00

Where are the BIG China girls?

Three French letters and a German sense of humor oughter do it.

CONTINUING G-20 COVERAGE: ON TO BRAZIL AND CANADA!

2009-09-19T07:20:00.005-04:00

Brazil. Nuts.

Someone always has to be the scapegoat, eh?

A LOOK AT THE G-20, ALPHABETICALLY

2009-09-18T08:11:00.007-04:00

This covers Argentina AND Australia. In that order.

And if that WASN'T enough ...

OH, RIXT RASSMAN, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? SHALL WE HAVE OUR OWN SUMMIT?

2009-09-17T07:02:00.006-04:00

BLOOMFIELD "BABUSHKA LADIES" TO PROTEST PIRATES PERFORMANCE DURING G20 SUMMIT

2009-09-15T21:00:00.001-04:00

WOMEN SAY, "WHO GIVES A DAMN ABOUT INTERNATIONAL DIGNITARIES -- THIS BALL CLUB IS GIVING PIEROGIES A BAD NAME!"

INVESTIGATION REVEALS FORMER PIRATES OWNERS PLANNED "BIGGEST FLOP IN BASEBALL" IN ORDER TO REAP UNSCRUPULOUS PROFITS

2009-09-15T09:00:00.004-04:00

Combed-over former Pirates owner G. Ogden Nutting and his mild-mannered and also erstwhile cohort Kevin McClatchy have admitted to scandalous accusations that they intentionally assembled the worst baseball team in MLB history with the purpose of raping the fair citizens of Pittsburgh of their hard-earned paychecks -- particularly "little old ladies."

The handwritten plan, discovered in an unassuming, three-ring binder lying on the ground by a five-year-old boy at last night's Pirate game, is titled, "No Hits in Springtime" and is being reviewed by the baseball establishment and the FBI for all forms of impropriety, including stealing the half-baked idea from a movie-turned-broadway show.

A passage from the top secret document reveals entries such as "seduction through plumper hot dogs," "bigger, brighter, louder, fireworks at every game," and "our check acceptance policy: make it out to cash."

Wilma Redding, 93, of Whitaker, who claims she is 50 percent owner of the Pirates, says Nutting "wined and dined me, and told me I was beautiful. Then he asked me if I wanted to make a little investment that would make me a wealthy woman."

A preliminary hearing is expected next week. Prosecutors are trying to speed things up, however, because they concerned that Redding and some of the other widows also claiming to be 50 percent owners may "kick the ball bucket" before the trial.

Current owner Bob Nutting, G. Ogden's son, had no comment at press time, but said to call back in a few days, when he would be out of town.

SPOKESWOMAN FOR LUNCH LADIES LOCAL 57 TELLS PITTSBURGH CITY KIDS TO EXPECT 'ALL KINDS OF CULINARY SURPRISES THIS YEAR'

2009-09-09T10:00:00.004-04:00

LUNCH WITH ... THE LUNCH LADY

by Fanny Fuller Malarkey

LOCAL UNION REP SAYS CAFETERIA HAS BEEN COOKING UP NEW MENU ITEMS ALL SUMMER TO PROMOTE CITY IN UNIQUE WAY

PITTSBURGH -- Ida Orebaum arrives just on time for our exclusive interview, and won't say a word to me until it's noon on the nose.

A disciplined woman who graduated from the Canadian School of Cafeteria Arts, she knows it's a major breach of lunch lady protocol to "open up" even one second sooner than scheduled.

Dressed in her starched uniform blues, sporting a hairnet and neatly trimmed mustache, it's easy to mistake her for the crazy lady who lives on your block. But once you catch glimpse of that tell-tale gravy stain on her white apron, you know: this woman is a lunch lady.

But don't call her that, please.

"We prefer to be referred to by our professional name, Institutional Chefs, thank you very much."

According to Orebaum, who represents hundreds of thousands of 'Institutional Chefs' across the United States and parts of the Virgin Islands, school children should be pleasantly surprised with the offerings they've spent all summer concocting at their annual convention, which was going to be held in Pittsburgh, but moved to Cleveland over concerns that the David Lawrence structure would be unable to support the weight of the collective group.

"A typical chef might want to put more 'sloppy' in the 'sloppy Joe,' but we think outside the lunchbox," she says, laughing at her joke and frankly, scaring me a bit. "What we did was put more 'Joe' in the 'sloppy,'" which frightened me even more, so I didn't press the question.

"We even figured out a way to make one of our most popular and healthy dishes, the 'Walking Taco' -- a bag of Doritos with ground beef ladled on and topped with cheese -- actually walk. I can't tell you how we did it, because then I'd have to kill you," Orebaum cackles.

I adjust my seat and move back just a bit.

Orebaum explains that they even came up with "movie-themed" entrees, and believe they'll have their own blockbuster with "Silence of the Lambs," which is a roasted leg of lamb rubbed in a special blend of herbs and served with mint jelly. "The moths, are of course, optional," she adds.

This signature dish inspired a host of other Pittsburgh-filmed, movie-theme dishes, including, "The Mothman Prophecies," which Orebaum says is self-explanatory, and "The Dominick and Eugene," which is a "clever recycling of what we might otherwise toss as garbage," says Orebaum.

Orebaum explains that the dishes will be used all over the country (and parts of the Virgin Islands), which will help promote the city in a unique way.

It's 12:30 and Orebaum reminds me that our lunch is over and I had better empty my tray and take it back to the dishroom.

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: THERE WILL BE NO POSTINGS TODAY AT MS. ADVENTURES ON THE MON, BUT THIS IS A POST WHICH MEANS OUR HEADLINES ARE PURE LIES

2009-09-04T07:00:00.000-04:00

The staff at Ms. Adventures on the Mon, in the interest of "team building," watched an old episode of the PBS series, "The Joy of Painting," hosted by the late Bob Ross. Well, Ross wasn't late when he appeared in the show, obviously, but he's late now. Not tardy-late, but you know -- late-late. OK. He's dead. Is that what you want us to say?

Anyway, the entire staff has been rendered comotose and lord only knows when they will wake up.

Which really perplexes us, because, if we're all asleep, who the hell is writing this post?

G-20 AND THE ART OF BAGGING

2009-09-03T07:40:00.019-04:00

Debate continues over security measures to be taken during the G-20 Summit. The details are a little fuzzy. Should protesters/dissenters be permitted to wear masks? City leaders are asking us all to bear with them.

Apparently, one councilor thinks that we should all disguise ourselves as the anonymous restaurant reviewer for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, Munch:

"Mr. Shields said that if council approves the mask rule, he'll buy 5,000 paper bags, cut eye holes in them, and get people to march through Downtown wearing them.

Read more: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/09246/995280-482.stm#ixzz0Q2iKMlJZ

My questions are as follows: Is he going to buy them with his own money? Will they be recycled after, and will the proper receptacles be available and conveniently located? Are they going to be made from recycled materials? Will there be different sizes -- for different heads? Will all bag colors be represented? Is Shields going to cut 10,000 holes on city time, or his own time? Let's examine the feasibility of this, shall we?

First, let's try the standard paper lunch bag. While easily accessible, and I assume, cheaper -- for numerous reasons, I can't even get it over my ponytail. This is just not going to cut it.

How about a blue Giant Eagle bag, already made of minimum of 15% recycled material -- or roughly the same as my blog? And the bags can be recycled. There is a warning that says, "To avoid danger of suffocation, keep this plastic bag away from babies and children." It says NOTHING about council persons or adults, however.

Gift bags are fancy. And they are known for being recycled. And they come in all colors, shapes and sizes. I found this yellow one to be rather roomy. In fact, I am still in this bag, and it would be nice if someone could come find me and get me out of it.

Of course, I'm guessing that Shields is referencing those paper bags you get from the grocery store. I don't happen to have any of those around -- because I don't use them. However, I cut two eye holes out of the small paper bag that didn't fit over my ponytail. That took me about 30 seconds. Let's do the math:

.5 minutes X 5,000 = 2,500 minutes/60 minutes per hour = 41.667 or just a little more than an average work week. Since Doug has offered to pay for the bags, the fuel used to transport the bags, or any other related costs are still in question. (Scissors?)

At a City Council member's yearly salary rounded up to $58,000, if Doug did this on work time, it would cost us $1,115 (before taxes). Also consider, I haven't even factored in the time it takes to unfold and refold a bag. Of course, he could always outsource the labor part ... perhaps to some local bloggers, who, from what I hear, will accept lower wages than children in Mexico.

As an added bonus, bagging 5,000 of our locals could help Pittsburgh's image as a healthy one by giving them to protesters who might look a little sickly. I'm wondering if Doug might need a bag.

WHAT NOT TO WEAR TO SPROUT. EVER. ARGHH!

2009-09-01T08:11:00.005-04:00

While you were all waiting in the beer line at the Sprout Fund Hothouse, I'd like to point out something else you missed.

I wouldn't care if a man OR a woman were wearing this outfit, I'd ask the same thing: what kind of pirate are you, and can I challenge you to a duel and if I win you will change your clothes before I walk the plank? Say I'm jealous of those legs, you just go ahead.

MS. ADVENTURES ON THE MON HAS A VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE NEXT WEEK! YOU WON'T WANT TO MISS IT!

2009-08-27T08:00:00.000-04:00

AN EXCLUSIVE WMON POLL: WHO WORE IT BETTER? STATE SENATOR JANE ORIE (R-40) OR MS. MON?

2009-07-13T09:01:00.009-04:00

PLEASE TAKE THE POLL AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE! EVERY VOTE COUNTS!

Jane "The Whip" Orie lashes out at Ms. Mon for showing up with the same outfit ...

... but waits until Ms. Mon is alone in the Ladies Room to attack her! Will our International Woman of Mystery make it out alive? Superman, where are you?

IN HONOR OF MICHAEL JACKSON'S DEATH, PHILIPPINE PRISONERS FOLLOW UP 'THRILLER' WITH NEW CHILDREN'S VIDEO: 'ITSY BITSY SPIDER'

2009-07-09T08:31:00.002-04:00

A SPECIAL HISTORICAL EDITION OF WMON'S "BEHIND THE MUSIC:" THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER, AN ANTHEM OF PERSONAL TRAGEDY

2009-07-02T10:00:00.000-04:00

FRANCIS SCOTT KEY JUST ANOTHER LAWYER-TURNED-POET-WANNABE, WOULD PROBABLY BE "BLOGGER" IF HE WERE ALIVE TODAY

American History Academician Says Key's Words "Amateurish At Best," And That He Was Probably A Pothead, Too

"If we can look past his iconic patriot status for a moment, we can see this man was clearly living in the tall shadow of the cousin with whom he shared names, Francis Scott Key Fitzergerald, a.k.a. F. Scott Fitzgerald," said F. Murray Abramowitzaham, the auteur of a soon-to-be-released documentary entitled, "The Rockets' Red Glare: The Battle of Baltimore Through The Eyes of a Potomac Pothead."

"I've been studying this for quite some time now, and Key clearly suffered from hallucinations, most likely from hash he smoked as a coping mechanism. It's quite evident from his writing style that he was watching the events at Fort McHenry unfold while under the influence of a mind-altering substance that subjectively enhanced what would have been a rather ordinary experience to one of epochal proportion, and that he thus felt compelled to document -- essentially with scrawl on a used, paper dinner napkin, employing what the PSSA would unkindly reveal to be little more than a sixth-grade vocabulary.

"For example, Key wrote of broad stripes and bright stars, as though the flag were larger than its actual dimensions of 42 feet long by 30 feet high, and that the stars were glowing in some fashion, as though, perhaps it may have even caught fire -- it's like he's telling us that he was witness to flaming projectiles. We know in retrospect these are gross exaggerations. But without digressing into a missive on the reluctancy with which society embraces revisionist history or gay sex, suffice it to say, that flag in the Smithsonian is very likely a clever forgery."

Further examination of this unexplored, taboo jurisprudential reefer culture reveals that "flag burning" back then didn't have the loaded, anti-American attachment it does today, either. It was just code for what we'd call "lighting a doobie," said Abramowitzaham.

"And I've got this theory, too, that the more names your parents burden you with, the more important you must believe yourself to be. For every moniker listed on your birth record, there is a psychological underpinning associated with that name. You see this in Miss America pageants all the time. Look what happened to Kaye Lani Rae Rafko, who to make matters worse, decided to hyphenate her name after marriage, and is now Kaye Lani Rae Rafko-Wilson. Having a lot -- and I do mean that word in the literal sense -- of names is the most indelible form of societal one-upmanship, but by the same toke -- I mean, token -- it's often an unrealized expectation."

What did happen to Rafko-Wilson?

"Exactly. No one's heard of her. If you can't live up to the reputation that precedes you, you are doomed to a life of misery and self-contempt, and often, unfortunately, self-medication," he added, as he excused himself to go blazin'."

MS. MON TO WRITE RELATIONSHIP ADVICE COLUMN FOR PITTSBURGH POST-GAZETTE

2009-06-29T08:03:00.015-04:00

''AS SOON AS I SAW THE QUALIFICATIONS -- 'MUST HAVE RECENT BERET PHOTOS' -- I KNEW I WAS A SHOO-IN FOR THE JOB," SHE SAID

PITTSBURGH - Rumors that long-time Pittsburgh Post-Gazette columnist Cat Specter was going to be replaced were quelled today when the newspaper made a formal announcement that it was picking up Ms. Mon as a columnist after reviewing thousands of beret photos.

"It was a rather intense process," said editor John Allison, who was on the panel to select a replacement. "We pored over every single submission that came into this office. First, we had to eliminate the color photos, since we are a newspaper and we can only print black and white photos, obviously," said Mr. Allison.

Mr. Allison went on to say that judging by some of the millinery applicants had donned, there were those who clearly didn't understand the requirements -- so many photos were thrown out because they were not berets. "We had quite a few cowboy hats, which I thought was odd, but the one that really threw me was the fez. We had a fez," said Mr. Allison.

In the instance that it was questionable as to whether or not the submitter was in fact, wearing a beret, a majority vote was taken to either keep or eliminate the photo, and consisted of a panel of five: Allison, fashion editor LaMont Jones, Harrisburg reporter Dennis Roddy, columnist Tony Norman and retired P-G fashion writer Barbara Cloud.

Cloud remembers the process. "It was in the spring of 1956, when women wore white gloves and crisp linen dresses, that I first saw the beret when I was in Paris with my dear friends Sylvia, Cloris and Esther. The people in France have always had so much better taste in clothing and have always been so much thinner and better than Americans. It was so romantic," Ms. Cloud waxed, until Mr. Roddy cut her off with a heavy sigh and an eye roll.

Offering no solid reason as to why Catherine Specter's column was being axed, Mr. Jones simply said, "We though Ms. Mon was a better fit for the kicky beret."

Mr. Norman was too busy being a the P-G's unlikely African-American, conservative columnist to take questions.

Additionally, Cat Specter had no comment at press time, but said that if you caught her at happy hour later, she might have a few choice words. And that none of them would be beret.

A very delighted Ms. Mon promised her advice-seekers, "I will not let my new post go to my head."

MS. MON RELUCTANTLY AGREES TO 'HAIRCUT' APPOINTMENT, WILL SURRENDER AT THE HANDS OF LOCAL STYLIST

2009-06-26T06:25:00.011-04:00

GENERAL PUBLIC REJOICES; FAMILY, FRIENDS AND COWORKERS ARRANGE FOR MOTORCADE ESCORT TO ENSURE HER TIMELY ARRIVAL

Coworker Lidia Ribaldry taking bets at office Ms. Mon bails: "I know that woman, and once she sees those pointy scissors pointing at her, she is going to scamper like a rat out of a sewer on a rainy day, whatever the hell that means."

STEELERS OWNER DAN ROONEY QUESTIONED BY COMMITTEE ABOUT RELATIONSHIP TO HOLLYWOOD ACTOR

2009-06-25T07:35:00.009-04:00

"That is a preposterous allegation," Mr. Rooney testified before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee as President Barack Obama's nominee for ambassador to Ireland. "There is no way in hell I'm related to that crazy bastard, and I resent that question so much that the next time the Steelers win the Super Bowl, none of them are coming to the goddamn White House. They'll all be afraid to fly!"

MEANWHILE, SOMEWHERE IN ENGLAND ...

"I am in no way related to the Rooneys who own the Super Bowl! My real name isn't even Rooney! But I AM Mickey Rooney! Wait, am I? F*#@ YOU! And you are? Can't you get me a younger broad? I SAID CAN'T YOU GET ME A YOUNGER BROAD? Oh, this is my wife? OK. I DO SOLEMNLY SWEAR I AM NOT RELATED TO DAN ROONEY!!! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE? I'M MICKEY ROONEY!!!!!! Wait ... "

WE ARE

2009-06-24T23:15:00.001-04:00

LUKE RAVENSTAHL APOLOGIZES TO COMMUNITY, BLAMES MR. ROGERS FOR SELF-CENTERED, IMMATURE BEHAVIOR

2009-05-12T06:30:00.000-04:00

OAKLAND -- "I stand before you today at this press conference sponsored by UPMC as a man, an ethical man, willing to admit that I have not given the attention warranted to the needs of my constituents. Many of you have asked about my schedule, and the truth is, I just need some "me" time. But God as my witness -- and it pains me deeply to be honest about this -- it can all be attributed to the hours I spent viewing Mr. Rogers as a child. Just remembering the episode where Picture Picture plays Mr. Rogers' visit to the crayon factory takes me to a deep, dark place. The good folks at UMPC have kindly agreed to help me by offering their best therapists," said a weepy Luke Ravenstahl, in a paragraph reprinted here that may rival in length only one from the novel, Ulysses.

According to a UMPC spokesperson, Ravenstahl's first session employed Gestalt Therapy. "It ended with what you might call a bit of Primal Scream Therapy," she said, with a hearty guffaw. "And I'm only telling you this because Luke says he wants it all out in the open. Near the end of two hours of intense treatment, he was literally curled up in the fetal position and screaming Mr. Rogers lyrics."

The therapist immediately recognized them from the song, "The Truth Will Make Me Free:"

What if I were very, very sad
And all I did was smile?
I wonder after awhile
What might become of my sadness?

What if I were very, very angry
And all I did was sit
And never think about it?
What might become of my angers?

Where would they go,
And what would they do,
If I couldn't let them out?

May I'd fall, maybe get sick
Or doubt.

But what if I could know the truth
And say just how I feel?
I think I'd learn a lot that's real
About freedom.

Ravenstahl ended his apology by proclaiming in his signature monotone voice to the packed house, "I am fully willing to accept that the blame lies with Fred Rogers, may he rest in peace. So please, now that we've got that settled, please -- won't you be my neighbor?"

AN IDEA FOR PITTSBURGH

2009-05-04T20:06:00.003-04:00

These signs are posted in various locations in Connellsville, Fayette County. At least they're honest.

THIS PUBLICATION WILL NOT REPORT ON MAYOR LUKE RAVENSTAHL'S APPEARANCE ON "CBS SUNDAY MORNING"

2009-04-20T07:47:00.000-04:00

A SPECIAL LOOK BACK FROM OUR ARCHIVES: MARCH 12, 2007

(Above: Journalists stare at Ms. Monongahela's cleavage during a special staff meeting.)

MS. MON ORDERS STAFF OF NEWSROOM VETS TO "LEAVE THIS RAVENSTAHL STORY ALONE" AND "CUT IT WITH THE LOOSE TIE ROUTINE"

PITTSBURGH -- During a staff meeting yesterday afternoon, reporters for Ms. Adventures on the Mon appeared incredulous as their audacious editor demanded that 27-year-old Pittsburgh Mayor Luke Ravenstahl's appearance on CBS Sunday Morning not be covered, her reasoning being that she refuses to be restrained by the prevailing standards of propriety.

"It's completely counterintuitive to ignore this story," bemoaned disgruntled City Hall reporter Mitch Gaylord, who asked that readers take note of how many syllables are in the word "counterintuitive."

Said Ms. Mon, "I refuse to report that the mayor's wife Erin Ravenstahl said, 'We'll like drive through the city, through the tunnel, and I'll be like, You're in charge of all that? It's crazy.'

Vivian Vantage, the publication's copyreader, charged that it was only because Erin Ravenstahl's comment reminded Ms. Mon of a bad acid trip she had as a college sophomore.

"I take the position that there are more important things going on in this City. Take, for example, the fact that a woman from Emsworth just appeared on Judge Judy and sued her ex-boyfriend. And plus, we need room for all the fish fry listings," Ms. Mon countered.

Bob Evans, the TV critic, expressed his own outrage that he was not permitted to cover the event as part of his beat. But since Ms. Monongahela is the editor of this publication, she will not tell you exactly what he said, fueling rumors that she is a despotic egomaniac, especially when you consider that she just wrote this sentence.

"I told [Bob] rather plainly that we are not going to give any more publicity to that whore John McIntire, who is damn funny, by the way, or the only real contender -- besides Professor Emcee Square -- in the mayoral race, Bill Peduto. The last thing we are going to do is put Bill Peduto's name in print, because Bill Peduto is just going to have to get his own publicity. Bill Peduto's name will not, and I repeat this for clarity's sake: Bill Peduto's name will not appear in this publication. And neither will John McIntire's. And finally, we are not even going to mention how much coverage the bloggers at 2politicaljunkies have given this story. We are big fans of 2politicaljunkies, but 2politicaljunkies have so many readers already, that writing about 2politicaljunkies would just be redundant. And the last thing we want to do is be redundant."

(Gabby Rivershores, our dyslexic headline writer, contributed to the last, unwieldly paragraph of this story.)

CAUGHT ON CAMERA: MAYOR LUKE RAVENSTAHL "THINKS"

2009-04-13T07:00:00.000-04:00

SUPPORTERS OF CITY'S WUNDERKIND LEADER SAY THEY HOPE "HE WILL CONTINUE TO DO SO"

PITTSBURGH REPUBLICANS "PUMPED" FOR UPCOMING MAYORAL ELECTION

2009-04-03T05:13:00.002-04:00

MS. MON PREDICTS THAT IF WORTHY OPPONENTS DON'T STEP THINGS UP, SHE MAY HAVE TO RUN WITH THIS FRONT PAGE ...

2009-04-02T07:52:00.004-04:00

MAYOR LUKE RAVENSTAHL INCITES RIOT WIELDING GIANT ICICLE DURING PENGUINS GAME AGAINST NEW YORK RANGERS

2009-04-01T07:17:00.009-04:00

This highly reliable news source has recently acquired an exclusive photo sent by an attendee of Tuesday evening's hockey game, who released it to us on the condition of top secret anonymity. (Thanks, bro.)

At press time, the mayor defended his actions, issuing a brief statement that he was only trying to protect the hockey players from "crazy fans."

A player from the Boston Bruins -- who seemed literally to appear out of nowhere -- tried to calm the crowd, but to no avail.

Erstwhile mayoral spokesperson Dick Skrinjar was available for comment, because he is unemployed, but this news source was too lazy to call him last night.

A person who works close to the mayor confided to Ms. Mon that he believes "the upcoming election really has Luke concerned. I'm afraid he's ready to crack. We're trying to get him the treatment he needs right now before another incident like this happens."

JUDY O'CONNOR PRAYS FOR MS. MON; GOD ANSWERS, 'YOU'RE WASTIN' YOUR TIME, LADY'

2009-03-29T12:23:00.001-04:00

MS. MON HOSTS "COOKIE SUMMIT" TO ENCOURAGE PEACEFUL COEXISTENCE AMONG BLOGGERS, MSM AND ALTERNATIVE PRESS

2009-03-23T09:00:00.000-04:00

2009-03-21T08:11:00.001-04:00

MORE FROM THE MS. MON ARCHIVES: NEW SERIES: "THE THIRTYSOMETHING CLUB"

2009-03-19T00:30:00.004-04:00

Another archive classic: February 7, 2007

PROFILING PITTSBURGH’S NOT-SO-YOUNG, BUT NOT-REALLY-OLD PEOPLE

LIFE OF DEBAUCHERY, BEDLAM AND BAD HABITS, STILL, SOUTH SIDE WOMAN GOING STRONG AS SHE REACHES MILESTONE OF 36. OK, 37.

Gertrude "Gertie" Manachan, the grandaughter of a coal miner, never met a mop she liked. Family and friends would enter her ill-appointed home and were aghast at her housekeeping habits. Lore has it that once, her own mother ran screaming at the smell of burning hotcakes, insisting to the local fire department that the house was engulfed in flames.

“My sister-in-law asked us when we were all in Cincinnati for Thanksgiving one year if we could find the one place in her spacious suburban cul-de-sac home where she forgot to clean. I just tell people when they come inside my house, I’ll give them ten dollars if they can find the spot where I did clean,” said Manachan, as she belched after chugging a Blithering Idiot and slid into a pair of maribou slippers. "I haven't had to pay out yet," she insisted.

Friends admire Gertrude for her nonchalant, carefree ways -- the kind that get you in trouble with law enforcement and such, though she claims the "undecent explosion" she was once charged with (the charges were later dropped) was a case of mistaken identity.

"That time the Overbrook fire chief had to come over and get the handcuffs off her extramarital lover was something else. We still have a good laugh about that one. Even her husband thinks it was pretty damn funny," said friend Tonya Berryberry of Normalville.

And then there were the papers piled on her desk that she was “saving” for some reason or another. It was usually another.

In her younger years, she could drink men under the table, and once she got them there, we can’t even tell you what she’d do with them. Though we suspect it was make them do little cleaning.

Mrs. Manachan is known for her flushed complexion and hair that looks like it needs a good brushing.

"I dated a law school student once who kept offering to pay for me to see a hairdresser, but I refused. He wanted a girl who looked like she made apple pies. Fortunately for me, I found a man who could just buy me all the apple pies I wanted. Ha," she said.

One of her best friends, Barb Tyranasauro, who attended high school with her way back in the ‘80s, said her favorite drink was Tab and her favorite food was Pop Tarts. “I always knew it would catch up with her. You should see her hips. As if you could cancel out the effects of Frosted Cherry with a diet soda. She’s a prime candidate for some kind of cancer, I’m sure. And then of course, there was her personality. She told it like it was. She wasn’t afraid of anything or anybody. She‘ll be the kind of woman who‘s laughing on her deathbed. Granted, it will be a maniacal laugh that will scare the bejesus out of the very people trying to save her, but she'll be whooping it up.”

Her other secrets?

“In heaven there is no beer, that’s why I drink it here,” Manachan sang. “Oh who am I kidding. I’m going straight to hell. Can somebody hand me a cigar for goddsakes?”

To be included in the Thirtysomething Club, please send your submissions elsewhere, because frankly, we don’t want them.

FROM 9-28-06: UNIVERSITY OF PITTSBURGH STUDENTS ELECT LUKE RAVENSTAHL STUDENT GOVERNMENT BOARD PRESIDENT IN LANDSLIDE VICTORY

2009-03-18T07:00:00.005-04:00

From the Ms. Mon archives -
originally printed September 28, 2006

Just one week after University of Pittsburgh Student Government Board President Joe Pasqualichio broke both of his legs in a bizarre accident on Bigelow Boulevard that happened when Chuck Bonasorte's vendor's cart accidentally drifted into the street and ran him over, the SGB was forced to hold a special election to determine a replacement to serve out the remainder of Pasqualichio's term.

At the time, Pittsburgh City Mayor Luke Ravenstahl's political canvassers had been placing flyers in various strategic locations on and around campus, such as Chief's Cafe, to inform students that he was doing everything in his power to ensure that no special elections would be held during spring break, and that Luke was actively seeking their vote.

It seems, however, students mistook the postings as Luke's tossing his hat in the ring for Student Government Board president, so now he is offically both the youngest mayor of the City of Pittsburgh and, at 26, the oldest undergraduate Student Government Board president ever elected to office.

Mayoral spokesperson Dick Skrinjar said he is not sure what to do about the situation just yet. "We've got our legal people on it, and that's about all I can say at this time. Ultimately, I may have to write a letter to the City Paper and ask Chris Potter. That kid's got an answer for everything."

A BLAST FROM THE PAST! A STORY FROM THE MS. MON ARCHIVES! MARK RAUTERKUS ANNOUNCES CANDIDACY FOR MAYOR; WILL RUN AS MEMBER OF "SAVOIR-FAIRE" PARTY

2009-03-16T05:30:00.001-04:00

NOVEMBER 14, 2006

PITTSBURGH'S MOST ILLUSTRIOUS SOUTHSIDER REVEALS CAMPAIGN SLOGAN: "A PIEROGI IN EVERY POT AND A FOLDING CHAIR FOR EVERY PARKING SPACE"

Has already secured endorsement of the "pirohi ladies" of St. Vladimir's, even though as Ukrainians they disagree with his preferred Polish spelling

by Mitch Gaylord, City Hall Reporter

Without any pomp -- or circumstance, for that matter -- late last night, when no one seemed to be looking, Mark Rauterkus and his running mates quietly pulled a Princeton Offense, delivering a backdoor pass that landed his proverbial hat square in the melting pot for mayor of our beloved city. (Pittsburgh, just in case you weren't sure. You were sure, weren't you?)

Rauterkus, who ran a respectable campaign to fill the city council seat that was left vacant when Gene Ricciardi won a district judgeship, was defeated by at least twelve other candidates in a special election last year, including the guy who won, who was, um ... well, that's beside the point.

Rauterkus, a Libertarian reformer with strong ties to the Savoir-Faire faction, will face off with a formidable group of white men, including happenstance Mayor Luke "Opie" Ravenstahl; David Caliguiri, son of Pittsburgh's former, former favorite son (who was unseated recently by Pittsburgh's new former favorite son, Bob O'Connor); Bill "Progressive" Peduto, who waged what would turn out to be a killer campaign, by all accounts, against O'Connor, but lost because older voters outnumber young ones; Mike Dawida, formerly of the county commissioner triumvirate known as Cranmer-Dawida-Dunn, or "The Three Stooges," and Michael "Little" Lamb, who appears to make it his life's mission to split the progessive vote in Pittsburgh and keep Peduto out of office.

At presstime, it was unclear whether Lou "Hop" Kendrick would run, but we at Ms. Adventures on the Mon hope he and Les Ludwig will emerge at some point because they both make Ms. Mon smile. We have no news of any female candidates, but rumor has it that Melissa Hart is available.

In a phone interview early this morning, Rauterkus said he plans to endear the constituents of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania through a grassroots "folk song campaign" that will have everyone singing his praises. Instead of airing political ads, he will air "political music videos" to get his message out. "I'm going to make this the most interesting election Pittsburgh has ever seen," he said. "This election will go down in the annals of history. I'm going to make sure that I'm known as more than just the guy with the really groovy hair."

VIVIAN REPORTS THAT MS. MON HAS GONE TO TIBET FOR THE REST OF THE WEEK

2009-03-12T08:01:00.002-04:00

FANS CLAMOR FOR MS. MON TO KEEP BLOGGING

2009-03-09T10:19:00.001-04:00

You know, our good friend Jerry makes a compelling argument in the comment section below as to why I shouldn't stop blogging.

So I'm going to ruminate a bit.

Get back to you.

GEORGE W. IS A CONCEPT

2009-03-02T07:48:00.000-05:00

YOU SAY YOU WANT WHAT?

2009-02-27T06:12:00.000-05:00

IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY ...

2009-02-23T09:58:00.001-05:00

I KNOW HE TAKES FREAKING FOREVER TO DIE ... BUT I LOVE THIS VIDEO

2009-02-23T01:11:00.001-05:00

THERE OUGHTA BE A LAW

2009-02-02T06:17:00.000-05:00

Against this crime against humanity ...

A LITTLE GOODBYE FOR LITTLE STEVE

2009-02-02T05:14:00.002-05:00

You certainly touched my life, my friend.

SISTER MARY EUTHANASIA ON HUNGER STRIKE IN RIVERFRONT PARK UNTIL STEELERS WIN SUPER BOWL; ALSO GROWING "GOOD LUCK" BEARD

2009-01-06T22:29:00.003-05:00

AND SO MS. MON DIRECTED VIVIAN, "KEEP 'ER UP, GIRL," WE'RE BLOGGIN' LIKE IT'S 1999!

2009-01-05T06:39:00.010-05:00

Yes, dedicated readers, fans and most-cherished stalkers, after much soul-searching, hand-wringing and undie-bunching, mixed together with just enough feigned exhibition of distress, we at Ms. Adventures on the Mon have decided that WE ARE GOING TO KEEP BLOGGING. FOREVER. Until every newspaper and other blog in this great world of ours folds, we are going to be here.

We are determined to be like cockroaches who will still be chiseling out unvetted, over-opinionated crap on the earth's ashen surface long after the nuclear holocaust and those creepy mutants who can't stand daylight in THE OMEGA MAN become extinct. In fact, until they do, we might even consider employing some of those post-apocalyptic night crawlers if they work for free ... which, as you know in the blogger business ... is pretty much a given. (Unless City Paper Editor Chris Potter comes out of the woodwork and offers them a nickle a post. Then we're screwed.)

Why? Because we aren't quitters. We're not like you guys. We don't want it to end, and we don't care if you know who we are. We are going to keep blogging into the next decade like a bunch of old-time truckers with chili from 1972 still stuck in their beards, with CB radios and handles like "Magic Bus" and "B.J."

We can't move on. We just can't. We are dwellers. We are going to penetrate your mind's landscape whether you care ... or do not. We've made up our minds ...

We are never going away. We love the attention. While grandstanding with a final farewell and an oval plate loaded with more sentimentality and bittersweet and "oh-the-drama-and-humanity-and-it's-been-a-great-ride" than someone can pile on during one trip to the Eat 'N Park salad bar makes great conversation for a week, CONTINUING TO BLOG will give us the daily -- or at least weekly -- self-gratification we need to stroke our egos and continue to bloviate on the news du jour.

For we are the attention seekers. The Hollow Men.

This is the way the blog doesn't end.

Not with a whimper, but a freakin BANG!

THIS LOOKS LIKE A JOB FOR MS. MON

2008-11-18T17:29:00.002-05:00

DICK SKRINJAR MAKES SHOCKING CONFESSION: "I AM THE GLOWING GREEN MAN OF SOUTH PARK"

2008-10-28T20:00:00.000-04:00

SOUTH PARK (Oct. 29) - It was a secret he could keep no longer.

Just like Edgar Allen Poe's nameless narrator in The Tell-Tale Heart, erstwhile (OK -- shitcanned) Pittsburgh mayoral spokesperson Richard "Dick" Skrinjar's conscience has finally betrayed him, impelling him to release information he has been withholding for decades, information which may, in fact, jeopardize his future and leave the collective mouth of Pittsburgh agape with astonishment. Today, he revealed that the rumors that have been circulating since the 1950s about a "Glowing Green Man" in South Park are true.

And this he knows for certain -- because he is that man.

"Halloween is coming soon, and I just couldn't go through with the charade anymore. The late night stalking, the spooking ... I'm getting a little too old for these kinds of shenanigans," Skrinjar unburdened himself. "My eyesight's not what it used to be, and Snowden Road is just getting harder and harder to negotiate after dark, especially on foot."

Skrinjar has revealed to Ms. Adventures on the Mon that as a child, he was struck by lightening after his mother had tethered him to a clothesline as a last-resort disciplinary action for his having a "smart aleck" answer for everything. The events that would transpire after that tethering changed his life forever, rendering him not only a hideous human phenomenon, but the frequent topic of local ridicule, and most piteous of all, a lonely fugitive of the night.

"Mama Skrinjar forgot about me, just left me there with our dog, Spot. I was seven years old. I saw the big storm coming. I screamed, but my cries of desperation went unheard. I felt a strange tingling in my body, and honestly, I don't remember much after that. Mama came out and got me the next morning and we went about our business like nothing had happened. Then one night, I woke up and discovered I was glowing green.

"I glow green in the day, too, but you can't really notice it. It shows up more as a pasty skin complexion. But once the lights are out, it's pretty obvious that I'm a freak of nature," said Skrinjar.

While he has accepted his fate, and frankly, exploited it, he says that ultimately, it's not easy bein' green.

"Chasing parkers and loafers all these years has been fun, and yes, rewarding in its own twisted way, but it was time for me to come out of the closet. My tomfoolery has scarred too many, and I can no longer live with that," Skrinjar recalled fondly, "plus, the fog and the hours are just getting to be too much. I've noticed that as I've aged, my -- how shall I put this delicately -- my amperage has decreased."

South Park historian Babsy Q. Gump says she is dumbfounded. "I never really believed it. I thought it was just a good way to keep kids from drinking in the park, and prevent them from necking in the Green Man Tunnel, to circulate this rumor. So I went along with it."

Skrinjar said he mostly did it for "the kicks" and the free beers that the guys at the local deli would give him. "Some nights I was so tanked up I don't even remember how I got home. It's a good thing I didn't drive, what with all the evening construction nowadays," he added, with a haunting laugh.

I WENT TO THE SOUTH SIDE, AND I ASKED THEM WHAT SEX WITH JOHN MCCAIN SMELLS LIKE

2008-10-10T06:06:00.002-04:00

URGENT, DIRE, BREAKING NEWS THAT COULD SAVE YOUR LIFE

2008-10-08T05:36:00.005-04:00

... THIS IS AN ALERT FROM THE EMERGENCY BROADCASTING SYSTEM AT WMON ... WE REPEAT ... THIS IS AN ALERT FROM THE EMERGENCY BROADCASTING SYSTEM AT WMON ... LOCATED JUST NORTH OF THE BANKS OF THE MONONGAHELA RIVER, INCIDENTALLY, SOMEWHERE BETWEEN POLITICO MARK RAUTERKUS ON THE SOUTH SIDE AND WRITER FRANCES MONAHAN IN BRENTWOOD ...

GOOD PEOPLE OF THE CITY OF PITTSBURGH: RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! GOLD SPANDEX LEGGINGS ARE BACK! PLEASE, WHEN ENCOUNTERING THIS FASHION TRAVESTY, DO NOT, WE REPEAT, DO NOT GO BACK IN THE STORE AND TRY TO SAVE ANYONE ELSE! ONCE YOU HAVE LEFT THE STORE, REMAIN CALM, LOOK FOR YOUR LOVED ONES, AND LET PROFESSIONAL RESCUE WORKERS DO THE REST!

COMING SOON, ONLY ON MS. ADVENTURES ON THE MON: THE AIRING OF THE GRIEVANCES

2008-09-22T10:00:00.000-04:00

It will be Festivus for me, baby.

Oh just-a-you-wait.

Ker-pow!

LOWER BURRELL 'ACCIDENTALLY' INVADES UPPER BURRELL

2008-09-05T06:34:00.002-04:00

Not-so-quietly, as the sun began to nestle down for the night, easing itself from the sharp peaks into the gentle slopes of the Appalachian Mountains, a group of rowdy insurgents from Lower Burrell crossed the Allegheny River and accidentally invaded its neighboring municipality of Upper Burrell.

The unit was commissioned by townspeople in Lower Burrell who had not yet finished celebrating St. Patrick’s day to “take a trip to Arnold,” after making the stark realization that all the beer had been depleted from every place in town. In the process, though, the “reconnaissance convoy,” as Milton Haggard, owner of The Ye Olde Inn Tavern Lounge and Cocktail Bar put it, took a wrong turn and landed in neighboring Upper Burrell.

However, some residents don’t think it was an accident.

“Those people in Lower Burrell have a sense of entitlement, and think they can just take whatever they want” said a resident who spoke to this publication on the condition of anonymity. “There is no doubt in my mind that this was a premeditated act meant to pillage our Pilsner,” he said.

According to the Norwin Star, which first broke the story, the small but well-equipped group of men and at least two women from Lower Burrell, located 18 miles outside of Pittsburgh and considered part of the Pittburgh Metropolitan Area, stormed its neighboring municipality some time around 7:30 p.m. Sunday, reportedly with two Chevy 4X4s, a Suburban with an extended cab and one Dodge Dakota -- so there’d be plenty of room to transport the beer.

According to one account by a member of the insurgents, "I'll be honest, we were drinking. OK? So instead of making it to Arnold, somehow we ended up in Upper Burrell, and we just went through with our plan, knocking on tavern doors in search of kegs ’n six packs ‘n at.”

Vernelle York, who’s son Alvin refused to join the entourage that convened to stop the insurgents, citing Biblical passages about Caesar, summed up the unspoken feelings of many Upper Burrellians: “Funny, how the people on the bottom are always lookin’ down at the people on the top.”

Technically, Lower Burrell rests on the Appalachian Plateau, on the western portion of the Appalachian Mountain Range.

The Mayor of Upper Burrell bristled at the idea that any animosity existed and refused to speak to us, but a source close to the mayor said that hostility among the two towns has been smoldering ever since the land that was designated and named after one Judge Jeremiah Murry Burrell was divided into two separate townships in 1879.

A spokesperson for the Westmoreland County Historical Society, Barbara Gump, explained that Lower Burrell grew to become distinguished as a “third class city,” in the state of Pennsylvania, while Upper Burrell languished as “little more than a cow path.”

The dispute, said Gump, heated up again during a construction boom in the 1990s when Lower Burrell, believing it was better, wanted to trade names with Upper Burrell, but Upper Burrell officials refused, claiming that the cost of printing new letterhead would exceed the township’s budget.

A resident of Upper Burrell, who did not want to give his name, said he doesn’t understand what all the fuss is about. “If you watch the local news, clearly, you’ll see that Lower Burrell gets all the media coverage. Somebody is greasing the palms of the Westmoreland County Bureau reporters, and we just look the other way, let them have their 15 minutes every day, so to speak.”

Otis Smith, affectionately known as the “town drunk” in Lower Burrell, said he believes that no matter what the facts are, the civic discord needs to stop. “Both municipalities should be embarrassed,” he remarked, with a hiccup.

THE BEST $5 HAIRCUT IN TAHN

2008-08-26T10:30:00.000-04:00

FOR DAVE AT 2 POLITICAL JUNKIES

2008-08-14T00:08:00.001-04:00

SIGH

2008-08-06T19:15:00.001-04:00

THOSE WERE THE BEST DAYS OF MY LIFE

2008-08-06T18:21:00.002-04:00

GODZILLA GRILL ROASTS AUNT MARGARET, TOO

2008-08-06T10:30:00.001-04:00

The cavemen invented fire.

We invented this. And it only costs $1,299. (I know, you're scratching your head: "Is that it?")

Do you know how far I had to step back to get this behemoth flame-thrower in the shot? (Apparently not as far back as I did, since there's a lot of room on the sides.) I knew extreme outdoor grilling was a sport. I never knew it was a small, independent province within the boundaries of the Century III Home Depot.

So I went to Home Despot -- I mean Depot -- because I need a big kitchen garbage can. Bigger than the one that I recently threw out because there was just no way in hell I was cleaning out all the gunk in the bottom of it. And this huge, clunky thing is just in my way. Seriously. There was like no getting around it. I had to give it a secret password and promise to bring it a cherry Slurpee for it to let me pass through. Oh, and Michael -- you'll need to pack your bags. Sorry, but you're the first born.

You'd think you could find a decent-size kitchen garbage can at Home Depot. But noooooo .... in the cleaning section there's an aisle of itty-bitty-teeny-weeny garbage cans that might be sufficient for a 90-year-old lady who eats half a slice of toast a day. In the "outdoor" section, there are dumpsters. I mean, actual slightly-scaled-down dumpsters -- for people like those families you see in Discovery Channel specials who took fertility drugs and have like, twelve kids in diapers.

Suddenly, I'm hungry for a hamburger.

WE INTERRUPT THE BLOGOSPHERE TO BRING YOU THIS URGENT, LATE-BREAKING MESSAGE THAT MAY ALTER YOUR LIFE

2008-08-05T17:53:00.006-04:00

Or not.

Really, could any blog post be that self-important?

Sheesh.

Please don't return to your regularly scheduled blog post.

Try a different blog for once and stop being so damn lazy.

P.S. I decided yesterday I am voting for Obama. We're all going to die anyway.

IT'S BEEN A GREAT WEEK!

2008-08-01T03:23:00.005-04:00

No egomaniacs or borderline "personalities" have threatened to sue me.

I'll drink to that. Oh. And kiss my ass if you were thinking about it.

God forbid anyone disagree with the gods, er, idiots of blogdom.

You might not get the almighty link.

P.S. Greg Victor of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette: THERE ARE MORE THAN SIX BLOGS IN PITTSBURGH! Jesus! I really hope PittGirl turns out to be my 15-year-old daughter. I would so own your ass.

HONESTLY. HOW DID I EVER DO MY HAIR BEFORE I DISCOVERED THIS PRODUCT?

2008-07-29T10:00:00.000-04:00

That's right. Placenta "REVITALIZING" shampoo.

Eww.

Please don't tell me any babies were killed to make this. Or placentas. Can you kill a placenta?

You find the strangest things in Dollar Stores. (Self included.)

I will stick with the shampoo I have. Because not only does it make my hair shiny, it grows my boobs. Just like the ad on TV shows.

Now I look like this: