Wednesday, November 22, 2006
this could be your favorite song
Tonight's glorious hockey game (4-0 win against the Stanley Cup champions, a big shutout for Henrik) was an absolute joy.
Monday, November 20, 2006
I could laugh in your face if I want, oh but I'm not going to
I was going to post this great entry about all the things I want to say at the hockey games but don't, but all I can remember is a general, "If you don't shut the fuck up, I'm going to punch you in the mouth, you stupid fucking fuckhead" or something.
Oh, yeah, now I remember one! So there's this guy who is there for some games, and the camera finds him, and plays "Strike It Up" by Black Box (a classic, clearly) and he dances like a madman. It's wonderful. So some dumb woman who obviously needs a swift elbow to the nose decides to smack talk him on the escalator on the way out. "Imagine, you're like 30 years old or whatever, dancing like an idiot on camera. Why would you do that? Why do they even show it?" (I honestly don't remember exactly what she said now, but it was something like this, negative, pointless, bitchy.) And so, if I'd talked to her, I would say "Why does he do it? Why do they show it? Because it's awesome. Because he's awesome. Why don't you shut your mouth until you have something worth saying you dumb fucking bitch. PS Push me again on the way down the stairs and I'll get you to the ground floor real quick." (There's a lot of cursing in these, because it is a hockey game.)
Also, I would just like to take this opportunity to tell that guy who sits behind me (I could totally read him now and call out his section, row and seat, but I'm a punk) to never talk ever. No one cares about how awesome it is in Canada. No one cares about the craptastic Toronto Maple Leafs (the bastard outlaw cheaters of the league -- if it was a barfight, they'd bite) and how there are three parades in Toronto every time they win a playoff game (Oh really? That is the saddest story I ever heard.) No one cares about Darcy Tucker or Tie Domi (seriously, what kind of fucking names are these?) unless it is to punch them in the throat. No one really has any sympathy for the fact that you can't get into a Montreal-Toronto game, mainly because you are fucking talking through our game, you stupid dick. Why do you have 1/2 season tickets if you don't care? No one is really going to check all the news on TSN.ca (God help us) even if you say it is the best hockey site. It's still Canadian. No one likes you, and no one understands how you managed to implant a fucking megaphone in your head (that is the only explanation for the volume at which you speak conversationally.)
And other guys behind me, you were way more fun when you brought Ira, who tried to take his cat into the game. You minus Ira equals a total snooze.
Oh, yeah, now I remember one! So there's this guy who is there for some games, and the camera finds him, and plays "Strike It Up" by Black Box (a classic, clearly) and he dances like a madman. It's wonderful. So some dumb woman who obviously needs a swift elbow to the nose decides to smack talk him on the escalator on the way out. "Imagine, you're like 30 years old or whatever, dancing like an idiot on camera. Why would you do that? Why do they even show it?" (I honestly don't remember exactly what she said now, but it was something like this, negative, pointless, bitchy.) And so, if I'd talked to her, I would say "Why does he do it? Why do they show it? Because it's awesome. Because he's awesome. Why don't you shut your mouth until you have something worth saying you dumb fucking bitch. PS Push me again on the way down the stairs and I'll get you to the ground floor real quick." (There's a lot of cursing in these, because it is a hockey game.)
Also, I would just like to take this opportunity to tell that guy who sits behind me (I could totally read him now and call out his section, row and seat, but I'm a punk) to never talk ever. No one cares about how awesome it is in Canada. No one cares about the craptastic Toronto Maple Leafs (the bastard outlaw cheaters of the league -- if it was a barfight, they'd bite) and how there are three parades in Toronto every time they win a playoff game (Oh really? That is the saddest story I ever heard.) No one cares about Darcy Tucker or Tie Domi (seriously, what kind of fucking names are these?) unless it is to punch them in the throat. No one really has any sympathy for the fact that you can't get into a Montreal-Toronto game, mainly because you are fucking talking through our game, you stupid dick. Why do you have 1/2 season tickets if you don't care? No one is really going to check all the news on TSN.ca (God help us) even if you say it is the best hockey site. It's still Canadian. No one likes you, and no one understands how you managed to implant a fucking megaphone in your head (that is the only explanation for the volume at which you speak conversationally.)
And other guys behind me, you were way more fun when you brought Ira, who tried to take his cat into the game. You minus Ira equals a total snooze.
Sunday, November 5, 2006
I'll serve you just to serve
Today is a very sporting day. First was the marathon, which I mark not by running 26.2 miles, but by clapping and "whoo!-ing" nonstop for three hours. It's exhausting, and probably the most athletic thing I do all year. Here's a photo I found on Flickr from today. I'm in it. So's Dollo. Can you find us?
And now the hockey game is on. It is too hot in here (or I am too fevery) to keep my new gorgeous amazing Beukeboom jersey on (#23, son!).
Friday, November 3, 2006
clear the floor
I am so tired and cranky. The people picked up my laundry on Wednesday, and it still hasn't been returned. I've had a fever for about three weeks. And I really want to go to bed. I have nothing to write about. So instead, look at this photo! It is taken from my sexy hot 1/2 season ticket seat. What a delight. And the Rangers keep winning, two times in a row! This is a step in the right direction. Good times.
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