The Pacific Blue Saga

   There was an incident the other day that not only reminded me of Mario Lopez and Pacific Blue, but also reminded me of how ridiculous nights in Pittsburgh can truly be. As with any ridiculous night, there were a group of guys drinking. In addition to this drinking, there was some heavy tailgating going on for the Stanley Cup Finals. That equation results in double the drinking. After running through our drinks like it was your sister, we decided it was time to head down to the big screen to watch the game. Like most rookies who break the seal, my cousin decides that he has to take a piss. Of course there isn't a port-a-john within 2 miles and not even Jesus would open up his castle across the street to let my poor cousin relieve his inch worm of its stress. So we decide that if he is going to piss in public, I will too, and even my younger brother joins. Not realizing how drunk I was, I decided to let it hang right in the open grass between the parking lots, where as my brother and cousin decided it would probably be a better idea to go next to a tree or behind a bush. As I finish off giving Mother Nature my lemon lime gatorade, I hear my friend say, "Hey, watch out, there are cops on bikes over there." Not really concerned, I say, "Fuck those cops they are on bikes." I'm not sure if this was out loud of in my head but it obviously gained us some publicity from them. Our drunk, ticketless selves start walking down to the game in our Pens jerseys ready for action. Low and behold, we see those very two Pacific Blue wanna-bees riding their bikes around the parking lot. As we walk towards our seats, pig numero uno takes the jelly donut from his mouth, and yells, "Hey Evgeni!" I look over at my cousin because he is wearing an "Evgeni" jersey. In that split second, about 10 things go through my mind. One of those being, don't run but don't be that moron to actually stop and talk to the cops." Apparently the same thing was going through my cousin's head as we kept walking. In unison, both cops shouted, "Hey Evgeni!" one more time. Unfortunately for my cousin, the alcohol had slowed his thought process, and before he knew it, he was riding solo and surrounded by potbelly one and two.

        After a few basic questions and a stellar fellatio performance by my cousin, he got let off from being cited for "Public Urination" and "Drinking in Public." After what seemed like eternity, "Evgeni" returned to my side and told me all about the story. One of the little miss piggy's who were going to cite him let him go after saying, "Don't pee on my city again." Well I have some insight for him. There is nowhere to pee but on your city, and its not even yours, its ours. The rest is a blur.

Go pens.