Thursday, April 30, 2009

the eve of the apocalypse

One hockey game tonight.
Canucks vs. Blackhawks, Game 1 in Vancouver.
Canucks were up 3-0 at the end of the second.
Hawks made it interesting to tie it in the third. Less than five left, and Khabibulin suddenly has a 4-on-1 break in front of him. Goal. 5-3 with the empty net.
Who ought to win this will be a matter of confusion for many people.
But, hey, we both love Luongo. (Kim more so than me; I'm on Nabokov duty and, let's be honest here: he needs me.)
Congrats Louie on the W. Hawks came at ya hard.
This is looking to be a very crazy little series.

We don't want to get ourselves psyched out too far in advance for Saturday.
The League does not agree.
We have circled in neon green various parts of at a maximum Crosby/Ovechkin/Capitals/Penguins exposure level. It is the NHL's wet dream and has been for a long time coming.

But, hey, you know who we think the best player in this series is.
And if you ask us, he's about due for a big night.
The hockey media has said in various forms since this matchup was determined that Ovechkin is the player who has the power to win this series by himself.
We have to respectfully disagree.
Malkin doesn't just take over games or series or shifts.
He doesn't just score big goals. He doesn't just change the momentum.
He is the damned momentum. And he's definitely not done.

(thanks to Travis for reminding us of the vid)

Not to make light of our Captain.
The man lights up the scoreboard at Verizon Center like it's his job.
26 points in 15 career games against Washington.
The playoffs are a completely different world. Meeting Ovechkin's Capitals in the postseason will be something special to behold. But Crosby knows how to take over that building. He didn't lose in it until this season, and we wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't fucking like that very much.

Which brings us to our last salient item for the day, folks. Crosby had an off-day video today, just like every day. Because Crosby talks to the media every day. Because it is expected of him. And most of the time. . .he bullshits them.

He is like, kind of being himself and answering questions naturally.
Especially at around 0:26 when he takes it upon himself to laugh at Mr. Reporter's dumbass question.
Why isn't he like this more often?
Deep down, we want to think that Coachy told him to just be himself more often. Whoever loosened him up did a good job, at any rate.

Malkin had a video today too, which is rarer than Jose Theodore stealing a game. We'll see how Varlamov plays into that analogy this weekend.
And our good friend JStaal is fucking intense. He is asked an unreal Staal brothers question that is worth at least five shots.

Tomorrow is the Blingee expo.
We're warning you now.
Someone commented and said that Blingees make the site load slowly on their phone.
Our first thought was: dude, you love us so bad you read us on your phone? That's sweet. We love you too.
Our second thought was that if you don't want your Internet or phone to break due to sheer glitter power tomorrow, you probably should not visit the site.

Keep sending the Blingees to
We're going to say the arbitrary deadline is NOON MAY 1ST.
The last minute ones may be the sweetest.


Wednesday, April 29, 2009

tantalizingly seizure inducing.

Do you have any idea what it is like to wake up to this every morning?



It's kind of amazing, actually. We're not sure what exactly we are going to do with the volumes and volumes of Blingees that we have. As I typed that sentence, we just got another. We are impressed by your power and amazing skills. Please, continue to impress us. Open the gates of tackiness and let the Blingees flow forth into our inbox. The expo is on Friday. Prepare yourselves.

Speaking of us being pleased, haaaay there Malkin.
Congrats on the nomination. How do you feel?
That's what we thought.
That photograph should be printed on billboards worldwide, lest anyone forget the pure passion that kicked our season in the ass and made the Penguins a worthy team again.

We're ready to riot if he doesn't win. All of you are invited. Bring your own torches and pitchforks, we might not have enough to go around.

There isn't much news today in the world of hockey. Not much is really going on. For the next week we think the only news will be something along the lines of OMG OVIE VS. SID OMG OVIE VS. MALKS. It's already getting old and it's hardly started. The whole "Crosby-Ovechkin" tab on the NHL website is quite enough to make us want to vomit a little. It's going to be an onslaught of creating rivalries and cocksucking. When you're done preparing yourself for Blingees, start preparing yourselves for that.

Also, we'd like to take a moment to address one mister Simeon Aleksandrovich Varlamov. We are always kind of angry when Kovie suddenly becomes "Alex" because really how much harder is it to say "Alexei"?
Mr. Varlamov, however...we kind of agree with the Americanizing of his name.
And at the same time we don't.
Example one. Example two.
Thank you, European hockey sites, for staying true to the facts.
We...don't really have much else to say on the topic. It's all too obvious.
Thanks to meecrofilm.

Our feelings are still something along the lines of "show us what ya got, bitches" and we're not changing that opinion any time soon.

They've added Malkin to the list of headlining beard growers.
We're hoping he blows our mind and has a powerful man beard. Or wait...maybe we aren't.
We have no idea, actually.

All we know is that we aren't worried about anything.
It's all fantastic.
We're golden.

Go Pens.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009


It was looking like Boston. Seriously.
Last minute collapse by the New Jersey Devils.
We didn't watch the game, but we were eying the boxscore on and when Carolina tied it we were like "shit, OT." Pillow Lips probably asked Uncle Dad how much his alimony was and waited until he said, "Excuse me, you little punk, but my alimony is none of your--"

Canes win 4-3 in regulation.

Like, seriously. What a terrible performance. What a disaster.

We'd rather have Boston. That would have meant that Zoë could watch NESN and Jack Edwards for a week. And try to find Max Talbot coming out of the Gypsy Bar, housed beneath the many classrooms of Emerson College.

Fucking Godzilla Boy. We can't trust you to do shit. We are so mad at you right now.
And Marty? What the fucking fuck?

Oh, not to mention. . .


Go Pens.
Round 2 just means another team's season for us to destroy.



Monday, April 27, 2009

west fail, russian beards, covert caps agents. just another monday.

Our third favorite team got shown the door tonight. We're about as sad as we should be for watching our third favorite team lose. Which is moderately to not very. Sure, we wanted them to win, but we also wanted Whits to see a good playoff run, so it all balances out.

Our favorite boys on the team will always have one another.
It's not gay, because Nabby is an ugly lesbian. Which almost makes less sense. But we stand by our word.

Zoe's fifth favorite team showed my fifth favorite team to the door tonight. Clearly that means we're going to have to throw down.
Zoe, I hereby challenge you.
May 15th, 11 PM.
The Junior High parking lot.
You can borrow my Blawkhawks shirt. I'll find something red to wear. We will fight for the honor of these teams that are obviously so extremely fucking important to us. I'LL SEE YOU THERE.

The Hawks can choke on it.

In other news, the playoffs mean that press is required by law to show up for everything, which is both a blessing and a curse.
Sure, we don't have to worry about missing a goal celebration for recaps, but we also have to spend our downtime cruising practice photos and wondering what the hell made Mr. Captain so happy.

Rags and Caps play tomorrow, here's hoping we get what we want. Today someone stopped me in the street after seeing my Pens shirt to get a high five, thanking me for knocking out the Flyers because he hated them. Upon asking, I found that he was a Caps fan. A polite, friendly, good-looking hockey fan in the streets of Philadelphia? Be careful. The Caps may be sending these agents to all NHL cities to weaken our resolve. We can't let them get to us. Stay strong.

Canes and Devils go at it tomorrow as well. You know how we feel about this. The Canes haven't even sent any undercover agents to try to make nice. Not even an effort.

A fantastic article about Brooks Orpik came out in the past few hours.
It's pretty heartwarming, weirdly enough.

"As much as you hate to say it, there are guys who only play for the checks," Orpik said. "If they have to be at practice at 9:15, they show up at 9:15. Then, as soon as practice is over, they're gone.
"That's what I mean when I say it's different here. Guys want to come early and they stay late. The trainers get mad because we stay so long. They have to kick us out so they can go home."

Not to mention a few words on Bugsy:

"A guy like Ryan Malone, if he had to do it all over again, he'd take a lot less to stay here," Orpik said. "I know at the trade deadline, he was begging to come back here.
"A lot of the guys who have left feel that way. The older guys -- Gary Roberts, Darryl Sydor, Mark Recchi -- used to tell me we have something special here. I think the commitment level -- the camaraderie level -- that this group of guys has is unique in sports."

Obviously worth reading. Check it out.

MAF looking sassy to break up text.

And in case you missed it, Malkin addressed the topic of Sykora being out. It was, as anything from Malkin is expected to be, adorable.

"Little bit surprised because 'Sykie' good player and good shot, but maybe he need couple days rest," Malkin said, then displayed a bit of the devilish side of his personality that previously was hidden by his language barrier.
"We play three years, maybe Sykie tired of playing with me," he said, laughing.
"It's little bit rest now. Maybe we play together next series and play better."

Also, important fucking news, Malkin plans on growing a playoff beard this season.

Penguins center Evgeni Malkin had a good postseason a year ago, getting 10 goals and 22 points, and he would like to do everything he can to help the team take the one possible step beyond being the Stanley Cup runner-up.
So, after being a holdout last year, this time he is growing a playoff beard.
"To change a little bit my luck," he said.

Oh man, Penguins get a +1 for disastrous facial hair. This should be glorious. If Sid stands close enough to a beard-ridden Geno, he might actually look like he's hit puberty. We're pumped.

All that and Max Talbot being censored for saying the word "ass" here.

Oh, about the shirt contest:
We understand that we overlooked a demographic of people in our contest plans, and those are the people who are as poor as we are. We love PSR. We strongly encourage you to buy their shit. But if you can't afford it, don't feel like you can't send us something anyway.

Our email inbox looks like someone ate a bag of glitter and threw up on a hyperactive eight-year-old's spin art. The whole Blingee thing might be verging on harmful to our health. Please, keep them coming.

We wish we had more exciting things to say, but it's 3 AM and we're delirious and just hanging out until the Pens play again. We'll come up with something marvelous for you. Maybe. Hopefully.

Go Pens.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

get off the dick

Okay, guys. Seriously. That was a really awesome game yesterday. The boys had a day off today as a result and will work out tomorrow as they await their Round 2 opponents. But we cannot go getting comfortable in this business. Will we see Petey again next round? Will the power play ever start clicking? How much canned heat do we have left in our heels?

Thank goodness we have this rest period. There is a pair of game sevens coming up, one in Washington between the Caps and the Rangers, and one in Jersey between the Debbies and Team Pillow Lips. The Penguins could face any of four possible opponents depending on the results of these games.

Washington beats the Rags, Canes beat Jersey, and we have to deal with the Capitals in the semis. No home ice in this world.
Honestly? We'd rather not.
It would be satisfying, but. . .eh.
The idea of having these faces shoved into our line of vision for weeks at a time is worse than dealing with the Flyers.
At least Mike Richards' leadership never had him involved in a legitimate MVP debate that we have to field questions on.

Say the Rags beat the Capitals and Jersey still goes down. We would have home ice. . .against the fucking Hartford Whalers, Godzilla Boy, and Rat Bastard Cam Ward.
Do not want.
Someone rinse that shit off.
Does anyone have stain remover?

If Washington comes out on top and the Devils put EStaal in his place, we have to go to Boston.
Nothing we can't handle.

If the Rangers avoid complete collapse from the inside out somehow and the Devils still win, shine up your MAAAAAAARRRRRTTTYYYYYYYYYYY chant for yet another round 'cause we got Jersey coming to town.
Jesus Brodeur.

No matter who we get, it will be a fucking battle.
And it is for this reason that we are having a
Make as many Blingees as possible before Round 2.
This is not a contest, there are no prizes.

[Melissa] has already started.
Make an account on and send them to us at
We will have a Blingee rally post before Game 1.

Also, in case you bitches forgot, we are having a contest as well that will last throughout the Penguins' playoffs. Round 1 is over and we need some fucking entries.
1.) Get yourself a shirt from Pittsburgh Steel Rocks and put it on.
2.) Make us a sign. Get creative, use your sense of humor. Make it referential to PH or the Penguins somehow. Again, emphasis on creativity.
3.) Go to the most fun location imaginable and get someone to take your picture.
4.) Send us that picture: Put "WE CAN DO THIS" in the subject line.

Best photo wins a Pittsburgh Steel Rocks shirt of your choosing and a miraculous napkin drawing by Kim.

If you're bored, we have just provided you with many possible activities to fill your spare time.
Let's stop touching ourselves over the win last night and get down to business.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

this anger's heaven sent.

When the day comes that the collective dick touchers of the world (Pierre, get out from the Flyers changing room and look at us when we're speaking to you) unite and try to say that fighting needs to leave this divine sport that we all love, we will force them to leave their nipple clamps and ball gags on the sidelines and rewatch this game over and over. And over. And over.

From the date April 25th, 2009 forward, you will not be able to purchase a dictionary that doesn't have Max Talbot's manly, broken, bruised, cocky, wonderful face printed under the word "redemption."

Even online versions are currently being revised.

Awards are in order.
So are many, many other things.
We know you boys were looking for a handshake tonight, but Curry knows we're willing to give you so much more.

Penguins fans go into this game feeling pretty good in general. Tanger is back, Pierre is too busy whispering sweet nothings in the Flyers locker room to commentate, and we are so not losing to the Flyers two games in a row. It just isn't happening. Right? Right.

The game starts off looking as hopeful as we want it to, really. We get to see a wicked three on two, Robert Scuderi reminds us he's an American Hero - as though we could ever forget - Malkin gets stoned by a goal post. We even hear the Mark Eaton is from Delaware! They leave out some important details about him but it's cool. The press came through with the details.

You're pleased. Let's just keep it going, okay?

Apparently Craig Adams's birthday is tomorrow.
That means you can drink for him TONIGHT. How exciting is that?
We don't know when exactly it started, its occurrence is a beautiful and mystical thing in the likes of the aurora borealis, but on many nights around midnight and on, the PH comments section becomes the go-to location for drunk bitches worldwide.

We don't know how or why, we just know it's beautiful.
Just...unrivaled beauty.

Richards skates up behind Max Talbot and asks "Oh, hello Maxime, may I borrow this?"
Max Talbot's brain is currently looping the Meow Mix theme song, so he doesn't notice when Richards takes the puck anyway. You hold your breath and hope to Curry that MAF sees this shit coming.
Exhale, he does.
Knuble stops in front of Marc-Andre's house at 4 AM, picks up his trash, and throws the cans into the middle of the fucking driveway.
What an asshole of a civil servant.

In my notes I write the words
"Max Talbot Fail"

Oh fuck...not this again.

Malkin draws a penalty, but intermission still came roughly one minute and twenty-one seconds too late. You're fashioning your shoelaces into a noose and trying to search the kitchen for bleach to go with that freshly poured whiskey. Intermission snakebites the PP. It's going to be a long fucking night.

And it's goodbye second round security. Worst day of your life.

Maxime Talbot- despite being a tasteless, cocky, womanizing ass - is the heart and soul of the Pittsburgh Penguins. We love him in spite of, and probably because of, all of his numerous character flaws. When the team is backed into a corner, you can bet that the one who will step up and get his ass kicked for the good of the team is going to be good 'ol Max.
Max puts the hope back into the team. This is redemption. He then tells the Flyers crowd to kindly shut the fuck up if they know what is best for them.

What a stone cold pimp.
The fans apparently do not know what is best for them.
Their bad.

Back at the ranch, I am still being a whiny bitch about it all. I spent intermission looking for veiled hats just in case I had to look mournful yet fashionable any time soon. I'm starting to wonder how many classes I can skip before failing out of college, as to avoid the masses of Flyers fans I shit talk daily. Allison chose this moment to remind me what PH is all about.
Try not to look towards the right of that photo. The pure leadership is bad for your corneas.
The goal was declared a Feds goal and ended in a huge scrum. Do we feel some pressure? The hope is creeping back into our veins. Blame Max and Allison.


3-1 is still a mountain and we all know it. We feel a little bit more comfortable watching this game knowing that the Penguins are at least pushing forward. But it isn't enough. Thirty Dicks agrees.
The comeback has begun. We all know how this goes. Everything is different. Everything has changed. It's like Max Talbot's 25th birthday all over again, just with fewer hookers and much, much less booze.

The Flyers fans are starting to realize that maybe they should have shut the fuck up way back in the day when Max Talbot politely told them to. Now their chants are getting a little weak. We have to turn up the volume to catch what message it is they are feebly trying trying to convey.

"Crofadkf Sdskjfd"
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Crossfk Suckfkfafsdf"
"Once more, we still didn't quite catch that."
"Crosby Sucks."

Tie game. And you know where it's going.
God damn it's a beautiful day outside.
Anyone feel like frolicking through the fields with us?
Or, better yet, up and down the streets of Philly?

"What doesn't that guy do, Mike Richards?"
Wait, hold on a second NBC, we're not open for questions just yet. We'll handle that one after intermission.


Two minutes and nineteen seconds home, Sarge puts the lead where it belongs. We're wiping our palms on our jeans in anticipation of that sweet, sweet handshake.

Crosby Sucks, Crosby Sucks,Crosby Sucks.




We din't even notice the refs until a questionable call in the second period. They had a few bad moments, but for the most part they just let the game happen. Way to go.

This game, like all others, only had one Supa Sta.
Like we give a shit what the homers in Philly said.

Us? No, don't be modest, Maxime Talbot. YOU saved this game.

Oh Flyers, how we won't miss you in the later rounds of the playoffs. How we won't miss your players or your fans. How I won't miss your city when I escape in a couple of weeks.
It's been great.
Oh, wait, no, it hasn't.

Look at the bright side, Jerk City was made for you today.

Round two, here we come.
What a magnificent day.

Go Pens.

Friday, April 24, 2009

link dump and hope.

Excuse me sir, but who decides to failboat and get shut out with the chance to put it away in game five?


Sorry, Henrik. We'll be your friend for one more game, but then it's over. Liking you for seven games is a little bit too much for us to handle so just try to get it done. One last game. Make it count.

Of course you all know it's KTang's birthday. We wish him the best and hope that he is having a magnificent time. We were lucky enough to find some Kporn today. Seriously, we think they harvested every photo ever taken of Kris Letang. You might want to be careful, you could hurt yourself over there. Also, some fabulous blingees have been made in honor of Kris's birthday in the comments of the last post. We encourage more. Actually, we demand them. Fine art should not go unnoticed.

Not much is happening in the world of hockey today, other than former WHL player Ladislav Scurko confessing to murder. Wraparoundcurl with that amazing tidbit.

SI did an amazing Separated at Birth feature that had us pretty impressed at times, and horrified at others. Fattie Nash got jobbed pretty hard, but we'd say Ovie is pretty spot on.
Geno, MAF and Sid are included in the pretty divine collection.

There are some new Penguins bloggers in town that double as chicks. We know what that's like. They also like CBJ, so we're kind of in love. Check out their blog.


3 PM games on NBC are bad jokes with punchlines that feel like fists to the jaw. But we must endure, because that's one of the things we have to deal with in order to follow our team.

You know how we feel about this game, and this series in general. We're rarely anything but optimistic about the Penguins and this is no different. You can say that we're naive or overly ambitious at times, but hey, who the fuck was telling you that the Pens were still making the playoffs back when we were vomiting all over the ice in January? On a game by game basis the Pens have let us down more than a few times this season, but in the big scheme of things, we still have no reason to doubt them. We thrive in desperation, just check your Comeback City charts.

Sometimes goaltenders stand on their heads. Just look at rat bastards like Cam Ward, who, for one reason or another, just seem to do backflips every time they play the Pens. Biron isn't that type of goalie. He had a good game, but all goalies get those once in awhile. He's nothing if not inconsistent, and he doesn't have a team in front of him that can beat us if he isn't on his A game. While MAF is a monster for several games in a row and then has to recharge for a game, goalies like Biron seem to have to save up for a show-stopper. Well, he spent it. Now it's time to do our thing.

Get it dirty if you have to, boys. Just make sure you get it.

Go Pens.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

i was on my bad luck, kept gambling just the same

So, I was trying to get a good screenshot of Buries It because he looked like he was growing a playoff beard of some kind and investigation was necessary.
Fun graphic by FSN:

No one expected the Penguins to lose this game.
Not the way they did.
Certainly not after the first 20.
First goal won the game.
After that, it was just try not to go down too hard.

I was contemplating bitching out on you all and not having an awards show.
I really was.
Bob Errey convinced me otherwise.

Yes, Bobby. Yes it does.
The boys being on a flight to Philadelphia in the near future does not leave a good taste in our mouths.
We'd rather have rum ganache cupcakes with saffron for Christ's sake.
Can the Penguins be the team to finish off the Flyers on Saturday?
It will be at 3PM. NBC will be watching. Pierre McGuire and Mike Richards will be whispering furtive promises to one another underneath the sheets. The fans won't be united at the big screen, but in front of their televisions at home with lonely cans of beer.
If the Flyers tie this series, we're burning down a major building.
Luckily, however, we don't have to worry about becoming arsonists, right?
Saturday's another day.
We know we can win in that building. We, like, just did it.
We need the fight and determination, the will to not be embarrassed by them again.
It is time.
There are 16 victories to a Stanley Cup, but before we even think about that, we're going to get to 4.

The Flyers come out with a little bit of pressure. They almost beat Fleury.
Then Coach Danny calmly puts the third line on the ice. They ruin lives.
"The Flyers will be gone very shortly in this series if the Carter unit cannot handle the Staal unit," says Bob Errey.
Thanks, Bobby, for the jinx.
Crosby undresses Timonen and takes over the world, but Biron is there.

Staalsy gets called for roughing somehow.
Flyers don't register a shot, WOOOO!
Everyone on the team, pretty much, is the definition of unfuckingreal. TK, Malkin, Crosby, everyone.
Kunitz continues his beautiful yet tumultuous love affair with Kimmo Timonen. This love affair usually takes the form of planting Kimmo's face into the glass with no regards for his safety and skating away.
It's a very sweet relationship.

Period ends with the shots 15-5. Flyers didn't register a shot since before their power play began eight and a half minutes into the game.
Oh yeah, Philly.
Better start picking out which polo shirts to wear to the golf course.
Right? Right.

Early in the second, we learn that Fattie Nash has scored his first career playoff goal in Columbus to cut the Wings' lead to 3-2 in Game 4.

Kunitz almost gets a breakaway. Really, not much is happening in this game. Players falling over each other. Shots getting blocked. Pucks getting dumped. Yada yada yada. Flyers take possibly their second shot of the entire evening.

99 times out of 100, Fleury has that shot in his glove and doesn't give a fuck who Arron Asham is.

This goal was assisted by Carcillo, who has been regrettably more visible on the ice lately than Mike Richards.
Just get Daniel Carcillo the fucking Conn Smythe already.

Are we as happy for Rick Nash as we are pissed at Arron Asham?
Probably not.

This award has been on the shelf for awhile, hasn't it?
Fedotenko and Talbot take beatings in the corner to maintain possession and get the puck to Gonchar.
Malkin gets a rebound from Gonch's slapshot, tries to kick it up to his stick. It goes into the net instead. No one knows if his stick ever touched the puck because Biron's arm was being fat. Did we ever see an overhead view of this? We're not jobbing Toronto, we're just wondering. Due to the FSN blackout we were watching Versus and they didn't show one.
Christine Simpson probably had something to do with it.

The goal is taken back.
Still 1-0.
Corpse Boy takes a penalty for roughing.
Boucher makes Hartnell his bitch.
Nothing happens.
This game needs to be calmed down, and it needs to be calmed down fast.
Thankfully TV timeouts and intermission make it easier than it might have been.

Columbus is in a 5-3 hole in the 2nd.


If the Jackets are tied at 5 with the Wings, there's gotta be something left in our tanks.
Go boys go.

Fleury makes another amazing, highlight reel save with that left-to-right push.
We were pregnant with triplets, but then miscarried when Claude Giroux showed up.
John Stevens calls for the celebratory champagne to be delivered to Mike Richards and his leadership.
The waiter reminds him that this is not a Stanley Cup Finals game.

Mike Richards shoots harmlessly at Marc-André Fleury's pad. Big ol' rebound. Mike Knuble makes his first appearance on the ice all series.
Pierre McGuire, obviously watching along at home, runs out of old t-shirts with which to wipe up his semen.

Penguins take some penalties.
They aren't Flyers-esque penalties, but they show our frustration nevertheless.
We could have taken the shutout away. We could have at least done that.
Or not.
We outshot them, outhit them, and did a better job in the faceoff circle. Altogether, we played pretty well.
But stats are meaningless. We didn't do what we meant to do. Biron took the momentum and our sanity. We didn't test him like we should have and he made a couple of good saves along the way.
As always in the playoffs, our work is never, ever done.


Going back to Philly is like going to the doctor to get the results of an STD test.

Jackets got swept.
We didn't want to believe it would happen, but after game 1, deep down, we knew it might.
Our thoughts and prayers are with you, Jackets fans.
Look heavenward to Curry.
There's always next season.


Sidney Crosby is bound to crack one of these days and just tell one of those smarmy female reporters to eat his dick.

Poor Harold Priestley

"No one said it was going to be easy."

1. This is like, some robot with heat-seeking missiles in its eyes sent by the Flyers organization to infiltrate the whiteout.
Or something.

2. Brooks Orpik - 9 hits. Thirsts for blood.

3. Tyler Kennedy - For at least attempting to bury his wraparound. Poor thing.

Satan played tonight in place of Sykora and it was okay. No noticeable difference. He missed the net a few times. We want Petey back. He was probably raping the entire Flyers organization in a men's room between periods. Without staining his gabardine suit.

Tanger is probably injured. Boucher was a physical presence. People will complain about him being a -2. So was Sidney Crosby. SCRATCH HIM.

There really aren't words for this, as I'm sure you understand.
But we believe.


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Puck Huffers by Kimberly Davidson and Zoë Hayden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.