Do you know where I can get a hot beef injection, now that Iowa is closed for kosher business?

Best Kosher? Gone.

I will forever miss those fantastic bagel dogs and mini corn dogs. Now I'll probably live till I'm 95. What the hell am I supposed to do with those extra years? I should probably stop wasting my money on M.U.S.C.L.E. toys.

Goddamn the Rubashkin family. First they make me care how cows die. Now they interfere with my meat intake. What's next, I'm going to start eating more salad because I find out that beef isn't healthy? I should say not. This is America, not Holland. Stupid Dutch people.

Not that Pittsburgh's got great meat anyway. I'm from the Midwest, where cows are robust but easily duped into being killed and chopped into cutlets. I lived in Chicago, where it's a rite of passage to befriend a calf, raise it as part of your family, and then slaughter it and eat it raw. Because they're committed to the carnivorous lifestyle. And because if they want to catch up to Milwaukee in the percentage of morbidly obese adults, they'll have to suck down more Polish Sausage.

Even when I lived in Boston meat was decent. Romanian pastrami was made by the local butcher, who flew in tiny Romanian grandmas to properly spice the meat, and paid them in calls from their grandchildren and shelled pistachios.

But here, the meat sucks. And it sucked before the whole Agriprocessors embarrassment. And it will continue to suck until they admit that Pittsburgh is not, in fact, a mid-Atlantic city, whatever that means. It's a Midwest town, complete with a stagnant economy, declining population, and tons of fat, cigarette-smoking children. Revel in your middle America-ness! It will make everyone feel better. Maybe I'll even get some decent cold cuts soon.

A side note: I'm not sorry for the lack of postings recently. I have a real job, that requres actual brain power, so I can't make up the funny as often as you'd like. I am sorry, though for the lack of downright bizarre posting. There aren't enough weird people here, so I find my weirdness dissipating. It doesn't last all day anymore. So I'm working with a team of scientists to come up with some sort of solution until I sucker my whacko friends into moving here. I'll keep you posted on those results.

Also, the Bears suck in a completely uninteresting way.

Add Neckbeard, and mix

Since the defense and I are not on speaking terms right now - despite their four forced turnovers, and their decimated front four, I don't understand why they must persist in blitzing only to have Tarvaris Jackson (Tarvaris Jackson! The Lost Jackson!) pick them apart over the middle, where, hey, weren't there supposed to be LINEBACKERS there? - I'll favor Mr. Ron Turner with my scorn today. The same man who, at Turner family gatherings, has to hear about how great the Chargers are doing, how smart and successful brother Norv is. Is it fair for me to heap my own rage onto this potential powder keg?

Screw fair. This guy can't coach genetically modified superplayers, let alone the sad sack that calls itself the Bears offense. Adrian Peterson the Lesser lives up to his name once again, and runs for insignificant yardage, and wait, who is that behind Olin Kreutz's increasingly overpaid ass? Why, it's the Neckbeard himself, Kyle Orton! There's the Sex Cannon on the sidelines, not even suiting up, so ashamed is he. Although while walking around trying not to look illiterate with his little clipboard, Rex did accidentally impregnate some Vikings cheerleaders. So he still had the most completions on the day (ZING!).

Here's a teensy little thought, Ronny. If you have an offense built for a quarterback with a magnificent, if inconsistent, arm, then you put someone in there who has accuracy troubles outside four yards, maybe - just spitballing here - you should call fewer long passes. Just a thought. Chew on it, get back to me.

Once again I reiterate my suprise, my disgust: Tarvaris f-ing Jackson! Even Poppa Joe, busy convincing Michael he'd be better off white, didn't have time to beat little Tarvaris. Marlon needs some tough love, too, you know.