Can’t help but think you’re overlooking Cleveland. Where we have billboards that have eyebrows. You KNOW what he does! We have romanburger FEED THE HUNGER!!! We’ll talk about how Melt and Barrio lost their way, and how the George family are pieces of shit. Mark from Norton furnature is here for you! Seriously! Now, if you can’t get credit here, you can’t get credit anywhere! Now enjoy this unrequested acid trip, as shit stops making sense, and Gumby chases a mad scientist with scissors through a missmash of full size random characters that sometimes hang your coat for you, and sometimes run you out the store chasing you with hedgeclippers. Where we used to all be in on the joke of the Cleveland tourism videos, but now loathe them as they’ve been taken over by outsiders as a means to mock us.

We also race hot dogs at the baseball stadium, and you can pick your favorite based on condiment. My pick is ketchup, because he’s awesome. Kids love mustard because he “plays by the ruuuules”, and nobody picks onion, because…well, she knows what she did. She’s a disgrace to the city, and the less spoken about the great hobo vehicular manslaughter of '88 said the better.

And so now, I can put either an Indians hat on your head, or a Guardians hat on your head. Seeing as you have no personal emotional ties to the 1995, 1997, and to a smaller extent 2016 Indians, I assume you have no personal attatchment to chief wahoo, so it’s perfectly fine to wear the Guardians stuff. Just don’t be surprised that people 40+ will still wear the old chief wahoo gear. It’s not a sign of racism to us. It’s a tribute to the days of Jim Thome, and Manny Rameriez, and Carlos Baerga, and Kenny Lofton, and Albert Belle, and (as much as it sucks to know how he turned out) Omar Vizquel. We’ll still shit on Jośe Mesa, but really it wasn’t as much his fault as people like to say. Now, regarding Slider, we don’t know what the hell he is either. No one does. It’s best not to think about it. It’s also best not to think about the time Slider was dancing on top of the dugout, and slid knees first off the side and broke his leg. I say it’s best not to think about because it’s really funny, and you’ll laugh for too long of a time.

We also have Cleveland signs, all over the city. By this, I mean just statue like letters, all in white, that are styled the same way, and they say “Cleveland”. Just in case you forget where you are.

Then there’s Big Chuck, and Little Jon. No, not the rapper, but he does have as much bling as a rapper. He own a jewelry shop, but also, he’s like 4’5. Despite his name, he’s not really known for having prostitutes.

And people will come up to you on the street, and start talking to you. You’ve never met these people, but they’ll come up to you like “Hey man, you see the game last night? Shiiiiit, Rameriez knocked out Tim Andersons punk ass!” while you’re like “Uhhhhhh, sure. I’m just trying to carry this refridgerator home.” And then he’ll offer to help. You think I’m joking, but I’m using this as a real life example of what happened to me.

And our weather can best be described as “FUCK YOU!!!”. Last week it was roughly 100 degrees, and the past few days it’s been in the 70s. We havent had much snow since covid. Except for that one week last year near christmas where it said “FUCK YOU! NEGATIVE 20 DEGREES AND 3 FEET OF SNOW OVERNIGHT!!!” and we haven’t seen snow since.

So come to Cleveland. We have beer.