Happy Mothers Day, here's a free ticket aboard the stress train.

A big ole' Word To Your Mother for all of the moms out there today. Just a quick little what's up before the game.

Hey Clowe, it's Mother's Day, not Motherfuckers Day. Just so you know, you don't have to be a motherfucker today, unlike all the rest of the days of your miserable life. You can go be a douche on your own time you whiny jagoff. A perfect place for that would of been the pressbox you instigating motherfucker. I see you started celebrating your misunderstood holiday a couple of days early. Not only with your actions at the end of the last game but also by your statements to the press. Clowe, I want you to stand in front of a mirror and answer me this. How the fuck do you fight the urge to punch yourself in your stupid-ass face? In the garden of life, you sir, are the dickweed.

Let's go Red Wings