Thursday, November 27, 2008

Because, honestly...

Dear Toronto Media,

Shut up. I don't even have to provide any links to make my point. We all know what I am talking about. Just shut up.

Is anybody NOT sick of this story yet?

Sincerely yours,

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Awkward voicemails.

Hey Sean? Can we talk? Like...I just feel like you aren't yourself. You know? I just give and give and give. And get nothing back. I am really not trying to be a nagging girlfriend, since we aren't you know, dating. But what the balls? A NECKBEARD? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I am sorry, but weren't you the Vogue whipping boy this summer? Whipping boy...Ok, back on task. The point is, I highly doubt Miss Anna Wintour would approve of such facial hair. But babycakes, you look terrible. Are you going through a bad break up with your other woman? Weren't you seeing the former Miss Calvin Klein? Or was it Ralph Lauren? Whatever. You need some fashion rehab. Karl Lagerfield could counsel you. You two can sip iced coffees in matching suits and skinny ties. Will you bring back the glasses? For me kitten? I know, I know you are probably totally emo right now. Your old team is doing uhm amazing without you, and the Stars aren't doing so hot. It sucks. Your ex is doing better than you after the break up. But you can't let their awesomeness rattle you. Give em hell and get all up in their kool aid. I expect more goals out of you. No really. Earn your paycheck. I am quite aware of your uhhhh physical strength and stamina. Yeah that. Bow chicka wow wow. This was my pep talk. And I think I left my shoes at your place. Sorry.

Monday, November 24, 2008

On Hate

As a Leaf fan, I have unwittingly become an expert on hate. Not racial, not religious, not linguistic.
I am an expert on Sports hate. The type of hate that every true sports fan has experienced, and in most cases holds against some team(s) and or player(s).
This hate is what keeps things interesting, it keeps rivalry's going and in many cases it keeps fans honest.
There is a line though, many fans have drifted into the dark territory, Blind hate. All this does is make the offender look, for the lack of a better word, like a tool.
Here are some simple tips on how to avoid blind hate.

1) Don't white wash.
Example : All *blank* fans are assholes
Truth: You're the asshole

2) Don't go overboard.
Example: Racism, sexism.
Truth: You're a huge asshole

3)Be realistic.
Example: *talented player for a team I hate* Sucks, he is the suckiest suck that ever sucked.
Truth: You can say you hate him, but denying his talent makes you a stupid asshole.

4) Have a valid reason.
Example: "I hate *Players name* because he plays for *certain team*
Truth: You're a clueless asshole.

5) Don't cross the line.
Example: your a *certain team* fan, your mother is a *not particularly classy lady*
Truth: You will end up a toothless asshole

Following these simple rules and you are well on your way to becoming a respected, although opposing fan!

Friday, November 14, 2008

A Staalsy Celebration

Hello, lovelies. Lori from Hockey, Football, and Stiletto Shoes here. You may remember a game on Tuesday night in which my boys on the Pittsburgh Penguins de-pantsed the Detroit Red Wings. This was all made possible in the third period by Jordan Staal, our jailbait cutie who played the third period of his life with a hat trick and an assist. Here’s a recreation of the night on the town (or “shit-hole” since it’s Detroit) that followed.


Jordan Staal: The man of the night (and yes for the innuendo)
Sidney Crosby: The lost lamb in the Detroit ghetto.
Max Talbot: Keeper of the Fu Manchu.
Marc Andre Fleury: Flexible Frenchie. And yes, his teeth are perfect.
Eric Godard: Sex machine and also my hockey boyfriend. Back the fuck off.

Talbot: STAAAALSY! What a game! We’re getting you drunk, tonight!
Godard: Dude, not just drunk, lets get you arrested again!
Sidney:OMG! We’re all going out!

My boys stumble onto the streets of downtown Detroit lookin’ for a good time. They walk a few blocks, but Sid is scared of the ghetto “Godard, why are all the Detroit girls on street corners wearing ice girl clothes?” and he pushes the group into the first bar they find, a place called Manhole. They walk past some employees (lovely ladies with Adam’s apples, scandalous dresses, and fake, fake boobs) and take a seat.

Sid: Ooh, this is interesting. I’ve never been anywhere like it. Teehehe… our table looks like a penis.
Staal: Haha Sid! Look where you’re sitting! You just got shafted!
Talbot: (Dazed) I’m surrounded by men that smell like cheap perfume… I will never again complain about how fine ladies at Club Diesel won’t kiss Mr. Fu Manchu.
Staal: You gotta count your blessings, man. You don’t want Mr. Fu Manchu to get herpes, do you?
Godard: I need a fucking drink.

Waitress: Heeeyyyy boyyyyyys. You’re all looking strapping and manly today. Can I get you a drink? Margaritas are $5! (leans in) so are the handjobs….

Sid: Ah yes. Can I have crown royal and a glass of water?
Staal: (under breath) Pussy. (to waitress) Uh, yeah, I’ll have vodka and red bull. (Staal strokes the bottle of cough syrup he brought with him)
Talbot: Something expensive and French.
Fleury Same
Godard: Beer. As big as they come.
Tranny: That’s how I like them, too. (winks)
Godard dry heaves.

Just as the boys get their drinks, Jordan Staals phone rings. He picks up.

Jared Staal: Hey, I heard you had a big game tonight, player.
Jordan: Damn right. Looks like you’re not Mom’s favorite anymore…
Jared: I wouldn’t be so quick, Jordie. I have a feeling that high-sticking her favorite vase is still fresh in her memory.
Jordan: I swear to god, if you remind her of that I’m so NOT getting you a Christmas present, and last time I checked, I make more then you do, so it was going to be a good one…
Jared: You know what? I don’t even want to fucking hear about Christmas right now.
Jordan: Aw, sore subject? You were going to find out eventually. How the hell was I supposed to know that you still believed? You were fucking sixteen! I though you were just pretending really hard to suck up to Mom.
Jared: We’re not on speaking terms. Besides, where the hell are you? Do I hear Dolly Parton in the background..?
Jordan: Uh…. I’m in the finest Detroit club… and…. uh… there are lots of hot chicks. In fact, I think I’m getting laid tonight.

(hangs up fast)

Jordan: Phew, that was close

Eric Staal phones:

Eric: Hey, bitch. Nice game tonight.
Jordan: Thanks, bro. I do what I can..
Eric: Do I hear Dolly Parton in the background? Where the hell are you?
Jordan: Uh… the best club ever. Chicks love Dolly Parton, dumbass. I think I’m getting two at once tonight.
Eric: Uh, chicks with dicks. You think I’m stupid? Look, just don’t get yourself arrested again. Or photographed doing a dude. Mom’s blood pressure is still coming down from the vase incident. They might put you up for adoption again.
Jordan: Whatever, man. You’re just jealous… and you totally had an assist on the vase incident. Don’t even fuck with me. Eric: Oh, you asked for it.

(Both Staals hang up their phones angrily)

Phone rings again: Jordan’s Mom

Mom: Jordan? Where are you? I just got a very disturbing call from Eric.
Jordan: (under breath) Oh shit. (in phone) Uh, Hi mom. I’m just, you know, with the boys…
Mom: Is that Dolly Parton? I love her!
Jordan: Uh, yes, yes it is…
Mom: Jordan, we need to talk. Are you experimenting right now?
Jordan: What the… No..?
Mom: Maybe your father and I should have talked to you more. You know it’s ok if…
Jordan: Mom, No! Sid dragged us in here… I’m just…
Tranny approaches: Hey big boy…
Jordan (to tranny) fuck off!
Tranny grabs the phone: (with sass) Mmmhmmm. Excuuuuse me, but you’re talking to my sexy boy and we’re going to need some serious alone time. Uhhuh, Buh bye now.

(Tranny hangs up the phone and gives it back to Jordan)

(Jordan buries his head in his hands and sobs)

Talbot: Dude, looks like you’re getting an intervention for Christmas this year.

MAF: Hey, did Chris Osgood just walk in?  Is that him at the bar by himself?

Sidney: I think so. Look how sad he is. Isn’t it nice for that lady with broad shoulders and too much make-up to console him? Wow… they’re really comfy. Maybe they’re good friends. Wait… why is he giving her all his money?

MAF: Quick, before he leaves… Bartender! Hi, yeah, I want to buy my...”friend” a drink. Yes, sex on the beach, please. Yes, for the light-up penis straw. As big as they come Make it bitchy.

Talbot: Flower, you genius!

(Bartender delivers a puffy, pink drink to Osgood. The Penguins get to see flashes of his angry constipation as the light-up penis straw blinks. Osgood grabs drink and storms off with tranny.)

(Boys break out in laughter)

Godard, in all of his sexual and physical frustration, has been staring into space through out this entire fiasco. Tranny approaches.

Tranny: Hey, big boy. You look like you could use a little somethin’ somethin’.

(starts stroking back of Godard’s head)

Godard: I mean, I didn’t get to fight tonight… I guess I have some pent up aggression and tension that needs releasing..

Tranny: There’s a special back room… you wanna go? (winks) 

(Godard instantly grabs tranny’s dress and punches her in the face. She lays knocked out on the floor, one of her fake boobs rolls to Sideny’s feet. Everyone stops what they’re doing in club Manhole. All other employees look PISSED. They start to approach, no longer making an effort to conceal their voices, fake nails out.)

Godard: I can’t help my gut reactions! We’ve gotta get out of here!

The boys knock the penis table over in the mad rush to get out, and barely escape.

Sid is running crooked into the Detroit night after half a shot and a glass of water: I’m soooo drunk right now!



Monday, November 10, 2008

What's in Vesa's Manpurse?

Howdy ho, my Spanish Galleons, Loser Domi here. You know, I really do love the fine Toronto Maple Leafs blog Pension Plan Puppets. I just adore how the threads take such amazingly funny and odd turns. For instance, in this thread discussing the Kostopoulos hit on Van Ryn in the last Habs/Leafs game. New-ish Frequent commenter Mabel Mentioned Kostopoulos's infamous purse snatching incident.

JaredofLondon (he says he writes here as well, but I'm not sure...) and I got into a massive back and forth of win about what could possibly be in Vesa's manpurse (video here) The resulting chat is below:

by Mabel [on Kostopoulos]

Mabel :And

hee – purse snatcher.

Loser Domi: “but it was so cute! I had to have it”
Mabel: “and it goes with my outfit! See how it picks up the colour in my shirt? Adorable.”
LD“And I can store things in it without creating unsightly bulges in my pockets!”
JaredofLondon: He should have asked Vesa about fashionable man bags
LD: I still don’t get Vesa’s man bags. How much stuff do you need to carry around with you? I could fit most of my schoolbooks in that thing
JoL: Keys, black berry, wallet, laptop, lip balm, 26er of rye, lighter, ipod, flask, spare flask, pocket knife, fetching monkey, spare spare flask
etc etc
LD: lucky clear bowling ball with the skull in it, my mom, my pet giraffe, giraffe food, an extra sweater in case it gets cold, tide to go sticks…
JoL: and of course gum
LD:and another 5 back up flavours of gum (because you never know what kind you’ll be in the mood for)
JoL: lest we forget 7 kinds of mints, some of that sweet breath spray and drops and of course listerine cool strips.
LD: and hand lotion. You have to take care of your skin, especially with winter right around the corner. And sunglasses (5 pairs, because you never know what outfit you’ll be wearing and you want to match)
JoL: and gloves, incase it gets chilly, and a hat, and ear muffs, and a scarf
and a taster, and mace, and handcuffs, and my gat
LD: and duct tape and plastic wrap
JoL: and enough saran wrap to cover a room, and an electric wireless saw, and a box of garbage bags
LD: first off, I did a search for gat, and this came up. Also, rubber gloves (because you just never know),deed to a haunted Indian burial ground, vaccination papers…
JoL: haha, on gat, that is both so close and so far from what i ment ( was going for the gangsta phrase for pistol) but that is much funnier. Don’t forget your hockey stick and skates, you never know when a game of shinny is gonna break out
LD: and the pads. he is a goalie after all.
JoL: and an umbrella, cant have the rain mussing his hair.And extra hair product in case he cant get the umbrella up in time.
LD: or maybe just some replacement wigs and fashionable hats in case he doesn’t want to be bothered/can’t fix his hair. I think we have a post for Getting Nifty in the Clutch
JoL: hmm, this is a good idea.
LD: Lets see what other people think is in Vesa’s bag…

so, what do YOU think is in Vesa's bag? Leave your guesses in the comments

Saturday, November 8, 2008

a beacon of accuracy!

So in doing some holiday shopping. I stumbled upon this gem:

Capitals or Canucks? Sayyyyy what? It would be amusing to see Ohlund and Ovie playing together. They would have madcap Russian/Swedish (Swedssian? naw) adventures.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Fun In The Penalty Box

Well hey there. I'm Alix. I spend a lot of time writing at The Humming Giraffe . I'm a Canucks fan, but I'm looking forward to talking about other NHL goodness over here. Hopefully our rad super group takes over the internets. With a name like getting nifty in the clutch, I don't think it will be a problem.

The Vancouver Sun had an article about life in the penalty box recently. Alex Burrows and Kevin Bieksa talked about what they do when they're in the box. The article even mentions the awesome quote at the beginning of Slap Shot: "You go to da box for two minutes, ya know, by yourself ... you feel shame ... and then you get free." For your reading pleasure. I laughed at the Slap Shot quote like I always do, and then I started thinking about what different players would do while in the sin bin.

Guys like Todd Bertuzzi spend the two minutes checking out the women in the crowd. I think Bert probably misses all of the fake breasts he saw in the crowd in Florida.

Sean Avery totally mentally plans out his wardrobe for the next week. Prada high tops or Chanel vest? Ya know. Will his black nail polish go with his Gucci shirt?

Dion Phaneuf grunts for the first minute, calls himself a MONSTER! for thirty seconds, and then briefly ponders whether he got herpes from Elisha Cuthbert or someone else right before he steps out of the box.

Kyle Wellwood (although he never actually takes penalties) would drool over all the food he spotted in the crowd, and spend the time writing scenes in his head for his great Canadian novel.

Nik Lidstrom figures out his economic plan for when he becomes leader of Sweden, and then mentally inventories his antique glass bottle collection.

What do you think your favourite player does while in the box?

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

President Barack Obama

I think Kevin Garnett said it best: Anything is possible. 

He did it. Barack Obama is the President-elect of the United States of America.

How about that fucking acceptance speech. Was that not the greatest speech you've ever heard in your life? I thought the way Obama reached out to Republicans was most impressive:

"And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. And I will be your President, too."

Seriously, how beautiful is that? What a guy, that Obama.

When he brought up the story of 106-year-old Georgian Ann Nixon Cooper, I'll admit it, I got emotional. I pulled a Jerry Seinfeld: "What is this salty discharge?"

When it was all said and done, and Obama stood waving to the crowd, I couldn't help but sit there and shake my head in utter disbelief at the incredible oratory performance I'd just heard. A speech my kids will one day listen to and read about in school. It was a verbal orgasm, and I needed a cigarette when it was over.

As a Canadian who watched this election with tremendous fascination, I just want to say thank you to America, and to my American friends. Thank you for restoring my faith in you, and in your country. We're proud of you.

"Change is coming to America...A new dawn of American leadership is at hand...This is our moment...Yes We Can..."

Amen, President Obama. Amen.

Oh and, by the way, I'm eyebleaf. It's nice to meet you. No, no, the pleasure's mine. You can usually find me at Sports And The City, where I wax poetic on the plight of Toronto's sports teams. Now that I'm here, I look forward to many nifty moments in the clutch. Cheers.

Loser Domi's Letters

Sometimes I get the urge to write to someone, even NHL personalities. However, I usually have the sensibility to not hit “send “after I’m finished. However, I thought some of my fellow hockey fans and comedic persons would like to read a few of these letters .

Dear Luke Schenn,
My personal life is just full of fail. Could you teach me how to be more awesome? If that’s not possible, could you just please give me some pointers? You know, like a top ten list or something?

Dear Ian White,
Is Carlo Colaiacovo as cuddly as he looks?

Dear Gary Bettman,
Are people always after your Lucky Charms?

Dear Tomas Holmstrom,
You seem to fall down a lot. Are you narcoleptic? There are a variety of treatments out there. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Also, are you related in any way to Jennifer Lopez? Your ass to rest of body ration suggests as connection.

(Note, I’m actually Facebook buddies with Vesa Toskala, so I have to resist posting this)

Dear Vesa Toskala,
After I saw your video, I was a bit skeptical of your ideas. Then I discovered that pink and gray is a great colour combination. Thanks for the tip! Also, what do you carry that requires such a large man purse? Is it a man purse of infinite holding? If so, you’re about a billion times cooler than you were before (and believe me, you’re already pretty cool to me)

Sunday, November 2, 2008

forays into nerdiness.

My dabbling into geekdom is fairly well documented. I find playing Tetris very relaxing. Something about lining up and arranging colored cubes puts me in a zen state. This summer when I went to Seattle for Penny Arcade Expo, I had some peeps babysit my blog for the whole three days I was gone. Even while I was on vacation drinking Brawndo (it's got electrolytes) and checking out MC Frontalot, I still had to have someone pay attention to my site (thanks Schultz!).

When I am not busy playing said Tetris or watching Dirty Jobs marathons on the Discovery channel, I tend to kick back and stab the shit out of things in World of Warcraft. Hey, you have your games. Your Grand Thefts Autos and such where you drive around and fuck hookers and beat dudes. Or is it the other way around...Anyways, I take enjoyment in going all rogue. Not to be confused with Sarah Palin's going rogue and being a maverick.

Evilira. Isn't she friggen awesome? With her epix. She stealths about stabbing peeps with poison swords. Wicked damage is done. I highly suggest rolling a DPS class.

Despite my failing at math a few times. I am a numbers girl. I geek out over stats. I have this ritual of when I go to Chiefs games where I sit down and read the program in a specific order. I flip to the back page to read which player did the dorky questionaire. Flip to the front and glance over the stats summary for the match up. Skip to the stats for the visiting team where I look at the heights. A 6'6" defenseman? RAWR! I'd climb that. Then I glance at the names to see if they are a duplicate or rather, have a bro playing in the W as well and who is the better player. I take a glee in the WHL siblings. Such as the Bowmans.

Naturally, I had to see if I was the only Evilira or if there were ones better than me. Turns out there are few more but I am geared better and my guild doesn't suck. Get Crit, y'all! In your face duplicates. For some random reason, I decided to check out if there were any characters named Ovechkin...

Oh look there are quite a few. And one in a guild named Crosby Sux. It should be noted that Ovechkin is an orc warrior. Which seems oddly fitting. I mean, Ovie would have to be a warrior, charging into battle. He is a bit orc-like which I mean in the nicest of ways. So I was wondering what other players were out there with NHL names. To the Armory I went.

Boogaards Bruisers. They don't even have a tabard. Bunch of n00bz.

Oh all the Luongos. Someone knows what's up if they are rolling with a mage. And a frost spec'd mage. Since Luo is a master of ice. I can see him being human or blood elf. Gnome, not so much. Homeboy is how tall? I suppose Roberto could be a rogue with his wicked awesome agility and doge rating.

My search for Sedin so far pulled up the most number of characters including one who I am fairly certain is in a Vancouver based guild. I didn't pull up the roster to see if there was a Burrows, Bernier or Ohlund.

And my guild wonders why I will skip out on raid nights for hockey. Dudes, a girl has got to be diverse, mmkay?