Way to Go, Ratt-o!

MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE

BRG
Look, you know how it pains me to play the bitter, under-exposed hack writer. (How being, not much.) But take it from a bitter, over-exposed hack writer: my stuff is good.

Yes, yes, it seems SF Chronicle and sometime ESPN columnist Ray Ratto somehow found his way to my little blog. Or perhaps he came up with this stuff completely out of thin air -- which, in the mortifying tradition of Glen Dickey, is exactly what he usually does -- but his column in today's Chron reeks of last week's leakings from Martin's own Brain.

McGwire's untouchable. Despite the steroids. Because of his image. Because, perhaps, tut-tut, of his race. The only difference is --

Well, the only difference is metabolism. Ratto is an old, fat fuck. I am a young, virile fuck. That's why my story broke way first.

BUT
But, in order for you to be consistently amazed by my amazingness, I shall now come up with something else to talk about, so that someone else, probably with a publishing agent, can talk to you about it NEXT week. Hold the reins, I have to go refill my Jameson's.

BRGR
So, by way of delayed gratification, I serenade you with an addendum to things I wrote about last week... lest they be revisited THIS week by someone else. Someone more famous, perhaps, and considerably fatter.

As you cow afficionados may recall, I recently left you with an at-large bid available on the bottom of the Burger Pyramid. Now a valued friend persuades me that, as far as San Francisco burgers go, a Russian Hill bistro called The Street features a ground sirloin with your choice of trimmings that surely merits a top spot on the chart. I, of course, resist, ultimately because, despite their footnoted features of bacon and other meaty love, this item is the lone burger listed on the Street menu, and, in fact, is not even called a "burger" at all. I resist -- until I bite into it. Then I make my "Oh" face.

So, in honor of one B. Critta, I hereby promote The Street's sirloin burger to number three on the list... number two if it's served to you by the lovely Laura, barkeep extraordinaire, Tuesdays and Sundays. (And, as lovely as she is, don't let Laura talk you into her cucumber-infused vodka. It sounds like it's better than it sounds. But it's not.)

MR

QWTOFDY
"An example from the monkey: The higher it climbs, the more you see of its behind."
-St. Bonaventure

PS
If you enjoyed last time's cut-and-paste exercise -- and you know you did -- try this on for size. It's like a FoxNews teaser: quick and hard-hitting. If you don't believe me, just read the URL carefully.
http://www.cnn.com/2005/WORLD/europe/02/07/WalesTesticles.reut/