Pierogibomination

I'd like to claim this is a joke, but no, it cannot be because our little corner of the world has never met something tacky it didn't embrace with both Buffalo chicken wing-greased hands--especially when it comes to worshiping our "Stillers."

If this news item isn't proof that all beauty has died, Western Pennsylvania Division, I know not what additional evidence you require.

One colleague at work deluded himself for a moment tby wondering whether the black pierogies were made from squid ink pasta. Oh, ha. I'd laugh if I weren't crying. Then the gold ones must be made from sunflower petals.

More likely Mrs. T's colored the pasta with runoff from coal mines or leftover asphalt from construction season.

Hard to fathom how one innocuous news report, one goofy product placement, one more White Trash Bed 'n' Breakfast offering could (further) crush my soul, but, alas, it has.

I am really hoping to be delivered from this evil to some place better in the near future.

And by better I don't mean heaven. And if it is indeed heaven, the streets better not be paved with black and gold anything. 'Cause then I'll know I've entered Steeler Heaven and my own personal Hell.