So long, H-Cock.

Since I'm pretty sure Ken Hitchcock has no direct ties to the disaster in Haiti, I'm going to go ahead and do the following:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Later, sucka.

A Very Scrappy Christmas

Basking in the afterglow; Canucks @ the Joe tonight.

Yep. Still happy. Still gloating. Still feeling fantastic. We're entitled to that, you know, after the rollercoaster that has been the opening six weeks of the 2009-10 season. Who would have thought that the end of the game would have left me with the same three words as the Toronto game, only with opposite emotion: Fuck. Me. Sideways.

I shall rate my happiness thusly: Happier than a pig in shit. Happier than a fat kid spying cake (simile courtesy of 50 Cent. I know, I know. Most horrible.). Happier than Ken Hitchcock at an all-you-can-eat KFC/Taco Bell/Entenmann's buffet. (Oh, shit. Where are my manners? Happy 1,000th game, by the way. Shithead.)

So, the afterglow doesn't last for long, particularly not today, as the Canucks venture into the Joe for the teams' second meeting this season. Kyle at Babcock's Death Stare made an excellent point in his recap of last night's game in saying that the down side to the Wings' huge victory last night is that they no longer have any excuses; they proved that depth, talent and drive are still present on the Wings' squad, so now they have to live up to the success we all know they're capable of achieving.

I'm going to let you guys in on a little secret: I'm sort of a spy. I mean, I enjoy espionage, particularly when it comes to rival teams. So, I totally got my hands on some top-secret footage of the Canucks' secret weapon on the ice. With Vancouver being so injury-plagued this season, they have a little something they may unleash on the ice against us tonight. Behold:



Yep. That just happened. My apologies for the egregious misspellings, but who can resist the funny that's inherently present in a retarded-looking, clothed whale skating around haphazardly with a T-shirt gun? Not this girl.

Also, if you want to be on the lookout for Fin, you should probably keep tabs on Mason Raymond's vehicle, as I heard through the grapevine that they like to travel together:



It's a great day when I get to make yet another Mason Raymond/hillbilly joke.

Holy crap, I'm in love. (Wings @ BJs tonight.)

Sorry, Aaron Downey. I never thought I'd end our imaginary relationship this way, via blog post, but I have to move on immediately.

I've found a better prospect. If you guys don't ever read this blog again after today, I'll understand, but please, do yourself the favor of going here to watch this, single-handedly the most amazing Columbus Blue Jackets fan in the history of the cosmos. I'm unbelievably perturbed that embedded has been disabled, but I promise, it's 20 seconds of your life that you will not wish you had back. Just know that I have already called dibs on this new love of my life.

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So, yes, the Wings take on the Blue Jackets/BJs/Blowjays tonight in Columbus. I have no solid beef with this team, except that they're in the Central Division, their coach is Ken Hitchcock, Antoine Vermette plays for them, their logo makes me suspect they stole it from the dumpster outside Disney's PR office, and they're in the state of Ohio. Hmm. Maybe I should rephrase. I have no use for this team other than Rick Nash. But at least I don't hate them.

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The Jackets are currently 6th(!) in the Western Conference and 2nd in the Central Division, with 20 points. The Wings are in 11th place overall and 3rd place in conference, but are only three points behind at 17. Eh. Howard's starting in goal, Williams is out for approximately 8 weeks, and I'm not sure what to expect out of this game, but I'm honestly ok with that. Having no expectations is better sometimes. What I hope for is the same thing for every game, that the Wings leap out of the gate at full speed, put points on the board early, and maintain pressure for 60 minutes of play. Is that so much to ask?

In order to get pumped up for the game, I'm going to take a little stroll down memory lane and relive some of the Blue Jackets' magic over the past six months or so. Care to join me?

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I don't think Detroit would do anything in drag racing, because they would never pass the Christmas tree test. They would be red-lighted (for a false start) every time because their wingers cheat. So we're going to cheat just like they are. (On) the power-play goal they scored, their winger went in (early); good for him. We're going to do the same thing. It'll be interesting to see who gets kicked out (of the faceoff circle) first. --the illustrious Ken Hitchcock during last year's playoffs

I don't want to just stay in the (playoff) mix. I want to go and chase Detroit (atop the Central Division). I'm tired of watching Detroit in first place. I'd like to chase them. I mean, somewhere along the line, somebody's got to make them bleed, and it might as well be us. --the illustrious Ken Hitchcock prior to the start of the current season

You know, at this point, it isn't even about what happens on the ice. Because let's be honest, if Ken Hitchcock promises to chase anything and is threatening violence, we should all get the fuck out of the way, because nobody wants to get between a man and his donuts. It's just asking for pain.



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He just used me like pony. He was on top of me. I don't like being the pony. I want to be on top. --the incomparable Pavel Datsyuk on Antoine Vermette's piggyback antics during last year's playoffs

Here's to you, Antoine Vermette, you rascal, you:



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The puck drops tonight at 7 p.m. Anticipate magic and mayhem, as I'm sure the H-cock has gotten his squad riled up for the organizations' first meetup since the Wings swept them last spring. Oh, and a note about the tags--despite what happens in the standings this year, I'm never changing it from "St. Lounashbus bullshit" because that's just how I roll. They will always be one gigantic clusterfuck in my mind's eye.

Latent hypocrisy due to the current standings be damned. This blog has no qualms regarding its sanctimonious behavior and takes full responsibility for its asshat projections. I guess that answers any lingering questions about the potential of a Saintly Octopus. Ha!