Wednesday, January 21, 2009

chat me up.

Dear NHL Store,
I know we have had our tiffs in the past. I hate your sissy girl merch. I sooooo am not down with the Alyssa Milano Touch stuff. But sometimes I think you are trying. Other times. No. I find it ridiculous that merch is not available across the board for all teams. So I like this jacket. Shut up. I do. But I want it available in other teams. Why can't you do that? I'd buy it if it was the team I wanted. The economy is totally sucking. I'd help prop it up, support it and the like if you carried things I wanted to buy. But nooooooo. You make team scarves available for the warm teams and not the cold ones. You know what, I am done wasting brain cells on you. Call me when you stop sucking. Thanksssss.

Love and kisses,

Pinch me...

I'm not sure what I'm happier about today; the fact that Barack Obama went to bed in the White House last night, or the fact that George W. Bush didn't.

Barack Hussein Obama is president of the United States of America. Look into a mirror and say it five times. Nothing happens. Dick Cheney doesn't magically appear behind you, and begin to waterboard you.

Barack Obama. Leader of the mother fucking free world. Incredible, isn't it?

I wasn't able to catch the inauguration on the tele yesterday, as I was on my way back to Toronto from the lovely city of Kingston, Ontario. Let me tell you, though, it was a blessing in disguise. Instead, we tuned the dial of the "Magic Bus" to CBC Radio, and took in the festivities over the airwaves.

When Obama stood behind the podium and delivered his first speech as president, it felt like we were alone. The two of us. Just me and him. I couldn't see the 1.5 million people (!!) who had gathered at the National Mall in Washington, D.C. Nope, when I closed my eyes, it was just Barack and I, and he was talking only to me.

It was, as usual, another masterful oratory performance. I could go on and on about how parts of the speech, especially about his father, were very emotional. Or how apt it was that he asked Americans to roll up their sleeves and get to work, because it's the only way they can get themselves out of this mess. Or how he, in other words, told the terrorists of the world to go fuck themselves. And, of course, how he said that after eight ape-shit years, America is "ready to lead once more."

You know what the best part was, though? When Barack showed the "non-believers" some love.

"For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers."

Don't worry, I'm not about to get all religious on you. I'm an agnostic. The existence of God cannot be proven, either way. As a betting man, however, I know where I'm putting my money. When it comes to religion, I'm just not sold. And you know why? Because of my dad.

You see, my father is an entrepreneur. A businessman, in every sense of the word. Even if God does exist, I want nothing to do with religion. If there's one lesson my father taught me, that I'll never forget, it's this: get rid of the middleman.

It was a testament to Obama's openness, and a sign of progress, to hear him mention the non-believers in the same breath as the Christians, Jews, Muslims and Hindus in his first address as the 44th President of the United States of America.

Yep, I'm still smitten. I'm still drinking the proverbial "Obama Kool Aid." I'm still left shaking my head in awe everytime he speaks in public. And I can't help it. 

I found it fitting that, while cold as hell, the sun was shining down on America's capital yesterday afternoon. I think January 20th, 2009, will go down in history as one of the brightest days in the history of Washington, D.C, and in the history of America.

Dubya is gone. Change has arrived, and hung up his coat.

I'm proud of you America. A black president. You did good. You did really, really good.

I leave you with the words of Robert Kennedy, who 40 years ago, back in May 1968, so prophetically predicted this day:

"Things are moving so fast in race relations. A Negro could be President in 40 years. There is no question about it. In the next 40 years, a Negro can achieve the same position that my brother has. Prejudice exists and will probably continue to do so...but we have tried to make progress and we are making progress. We are not going to accept the status quo."

You know, after all the speeches and sermons were done yesterday, I didn't just listen to a choir sing The Star-Spangled Banner. I sang it as well.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

A post about nothing...

The content over here at Getting Nifty In The Clutch has been left, I think, to the whims of each specific blogger. In this case it's your boy, eyebleaf, from Sports And The City. Usually there's hockey involved. This time, however, there isn't.  


Anyway, how are you? Oh, me, I'm doing well; I can't complain. The recession is a bitch, but I've still got a job, so I'm counting my blessings (total: two). 

Let me not waste another second of your most valuable time, and get right to the point. For those of you who don't know me, or don't know me well (holla!), I love Seinfeld. It was, bar none, the greatest show to ever be broadcast on television. It was a show about nothing, yet at the same time, a show about so much. What an idea. 

I have, for years, been advocating for a 24-hour Seinfeld channel. Its creation would render useless the most abused phrase when it comes to television: "there's nothing on."

Now, let me tell you, there's nothing I enjoy more than life imitating, or mirroring, or emulating, or whatever you want to call it, a Seinfeld episode. It happens more than you'd think and, when it does, it is one of the universe's finest and most special moments.

So, basically, there's someone at the office who, essentially, wears the same sweater everyday. Not that I really give a damn. If it's a nice sweater, by all means, wear it everyday. It's a free country. Anyway, a colleague pointed out this person, and their lack of clothing diversity, to me. Well, I took a look, and did a little reflecting. My colleague, in all his or her wisdom, was right. Same sweater. Everyday.

My apologies. I can't be overly specific. 

For national security purposes. 

Surely you understand. Don't blame me. Blame the terrorists. Look, you're either with us or against us.

Anyway, all of this reminds me of the Seinfeld episode where our dear friend Jerry was dating a woman who was always, even in pictures, wearing the same dress.

Here's my main man, Sein:

"What in God's name is going on here? Is she wearing the same thing over and over again? Or does she have a closet full of these, like Superman? I've got to unlock this mystery!"

So do I, Jerry. So do I.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Canada is going to crap their pants. LOLZ

Team Canada spent part of Sunday stickhandling around the opinion of Swedish forward Magnus Svensson Paajarvi, delivered earlier in this world junior hockey championship, that if his country ever got a chance to take a 2-0 lead on Canada, the Canadians would soil their pants.

The phrasing wasn't that genteel, of course.

I'm pissed Chet isn't starting. I could add a bunch of links that say if Canada even stands a chance then goaltending needs to step up. I've said what a solution could be. I may or may not even watch the game.

Imaginary Christmas cards

Imaginary Christmas cards

In the tradition of imaginary letters, I set out to write Christmas Cards to NHL people. Unfortunately, a power outage fried my mom’s computer, so I had no Internet access for about a month. So here they are, several weeks late, imaginary Xmas Cards!

Dear Carey Price,
Even though you play for Montreal, I’d sure like to check you for ticks Here’s a George Strait box set.

Dear Sidney Crosby,

Dear Sean Avery,
Here’s a ball gag. Merry Christmas!

Dear Matt Stajan,
Happy Birthday! I imagine that people forget it since it’s so close to Christmas. Here’s some whipped cream, Nutella, handcuffs and directions to my house. Call me!

Dear Tomas Holmstrom
Happy Holidays! Beware those cookies—I’ve heard they go straight to the arse area. Here’s a Jane Fonda workout tape to ward off those unsightly love handles.

Thursday, January 1, 2009


You know, if you looked at the Christmas gifts I got, you'd shake your head. Because I'd look like a completely terrible hockey fan;

-a Tampa Bay scarf
-an Avery Dallas Stars shirt
-a Leafs hoodie

Oh and a few days ago Versus sent me a super rad jersey and some pucks and a Stars shirt.

In my defense;
The scarf is to go with my Tokarski Lightning jersey. Though I found it quite odd there were scarfs available for the warm teams and not the cold ones. Maybe chicks in Florida wear scarves ironically/moronically.

The Avery shirt? Well I love the shit out of him and that shirt is now a collectors item!

The hoodie is super rad and warm and I totes loves the Leafs and want to make kissy faces with Luke Schenn. For those curious what team I decided to call mine, Toronto it is. Sorry Pens fans, you really tried...