I'm of one mind about this game:
Two points is nice.
Doesn't matter the way they came tonight. All told, a great performance from the boys tonight. They played hard for MOST of the game, which is better than earlier in the season when it was only like a period they showed up for, or worse, the whole game. What is it that makes the Oilers get geared up for the Wings? Do they do meth and eat babies to get jacked up? I'm picturing Jeff Drouin-Deslauriers putting on his mask and head-butting Devan Dubnyk until he's unconscious. Maybe some metal playing in the background. I don't know. Fuck if I understand this Oilers team. (Quick sidebar - I'm going to try my hardest to boost the swear/ridiculous count for this post today due to the Twitter controversy. wish me luck!)
So anyway, back to tonight's game:
1. Am I the only one out there who doesn't have much to complain about tonight's game? Defense looked good, save for the brief collapse, great. Sure, that won't win playoff games, but with the streak they've been on, aren't you entitled to one lapse here and there?
2. Jimmy looked....human tonight. And that's ok, too, as he's carried this team of grown-ass men most of the season. Maybe he gets a rest soon? Maybe we see Ozzie in one of the weekend games? Or maybe one of Jimmy's limbs fly off due to exhaustion. I have no idea. Babcock is the smart one.
3. One of the stories on ESPN's NHL page - "Wings blow four goal lead", with no mention of the fact that they actually won the game. That's curious.
4. Jeff Deslauriers doesn't look like a bad goalie. I wonder what he'd be like on a good team? Of course, his Air Jordan impression on the 4th goal....ewwww.
5. And since I have nothing else to add for tonight's game, a brief touch on today's Twitter #fuckyeahH2H controversy.......
My advice to anyone in life about anything - Know what you like, and if you don't like something, you're not required to read it. If I decide to use the term I just invented, fuckshitasswipehole, in a sentence, I do so knowing it might not be for everyone. Those who aren't cool with that.....awesome! Maybe this isn't for you, and that's ok. If you asked me, I'd probably not recommend you read anything I write or even listen to me in a conversation. Ever. All these things are ok. The problem, however, comes when someone tries to suggest that H2H doesn't mean anything or in some way is now irrevocably ruined forever due to the fact that someone used the tag #H2Hfuckyeah, or whatever the hell started it. ZOMFG I CANNOT BELIEVE SOMEONE EVER DARED TO SWEAR! OH SOMEONE PLEASE SAVE MY EYES/EARS/DELICATE SENSIBILITIES FROM THINGS I'M NOT LEGALLY REQUIRED TO READ. THIS WILL VIOLATE EVERY CHARITABLE ACT THAT'S EVER HAPPENED.
Even thinking about it in retrospect is slightly absurd to me. And maybe it wasn't even a huge deal, and MAYBE I'm even trying to pad this post as I'm too tired to write a recap that's worth a shit. But sometimes, stuff is ridiculous and needs to be mentioned as such.
That having been said: Wings, don't give your fans heart failure like you did tonight. The hot streak is still alive!
Showing posts with label miscellaneous hockey-related nonsense. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscellaneous hockey-related nonsense. Show all posts
30 March 2010
...The Kind You Clean Up With a Mop & Bucket
So, in light of today's Twitter feeding frenzy about the merits of dropping hard F's and whatnot onto the internets (man, what a fucking buzzkill), TSO has decided to renovate the site. Sorry if you kids turn into a bunch of sad pandas, but no more visions of glued-up dickholes, no more references of fuckwads/assfucks/sumbitches/SNBs/taint problems, no more gratuitous hyperlinks to TPL and all their jailsexing, and definitely no more shitting the bed--anyone's bed. They say that every good time comes to an end, so here it is.
To give you a little sneak peek into what the new and improved (and squeaky clean!) TSO looks like, I present you the following hypothetical game recap of the Nashville experience on Saturday:
Title: Holy Christopher and Gee-Willikers, That One Sure Was Close!
Some of the #H2H (#fudgeyeah) kids gathered at the Town _____, a non-offensive place for adults where I had a couple of Shirley Temples to watch the Red Wings take on the Predators. It was a completely nonthreatening environment in which the harshest thing said was "Someone is about to go #Eaves himself," which I think is just a silly term meant to mean somebody is about to grow a really sweet set of eyebrows.
Anyway, the first 60 +/- minutes of the game were pretty _____ lame. I think I heard Serven exclaim something about how games like that are just so motherhubbarding flusterating because you never know what to expect! LOLZ!
The overtime and shootout were pretty _____ nerve-wracking! I just wanted to tell _____ Rinne to go to h-e-double hockey sticks. During the first few rounds of the shootout, Datsyuk was a _____ . Williams was a _____ . Zetterberg was a _____. Finally, Bert scored because he's a total _____, but the Preds answered with their goal. When Kronwall finally scored the game-winning shootout goal, I felt like taking off my _____ and _____ it up with my _____.
Oh, _____ on a _____ . It's no _____ use, is it, _____ers? A Scrappy Octopus without swearing is just like a _____ _____ without a _____ to _____on. In fact, this is the first time in my entire _____ life I can say I know what _____up _____hole must feel like. Without the ability to _____ up a _____ , I really feel like some mother_____ er took my _____ _____, _____ ly ripped it out of its _____ place, and _____slapped it to _____oblivion. A _____ hockey fan without the _____ ability to say _____, _____hole, _____er, _____happy, _____-me-sideways is like a _____ _____ around a bunch of _____ hot _____tutes at the _____ kegger of the year. _____ useless, man.
_____ a bunch of that _____ing _____.
And now, please skip ahead to 0:42, _____ers:
To give you a little sneak peek into what the new and improved (and squeaky clean!) TSO looks like, I present you the following hypothetical game recap of the Nashville experience on Saturday:
Title: Holy Christopher and Gee-Willikers, That One Sure Was Close!
Some of the #H2H (#fudgeyeah) kids gathered at the Town _____, a non-offensive place for adults where I had a couple of Shirley Temples to watch the Red Wings take on the Predators. It was a completely nonthreatening environment in which the harshest thing said was "Someone is about to go #Eaves himself," which I think is just a silly term meant to mean somebody is about to grow a really sweet set of eyebrows.
Anyway, the first 60 +/- minutes of the game were pretty _____ lame. I think I heard Serven exclaim something about how games like that are just so motherhubbarding flusterating because you never know what to expect! LOLZ!
The overtime and shootout were pretty _____ nerve-wracking! I just wanted to tell _____ Rinne to go to h-e-double hockey sticks. During the first few rounds of the shootout, Datsyuk was a _____ . Williams was a _____ . Zetterberg was a _____. Finally, Bert scored because he's a total _____, but the Preds answered with their goal. When Kronwall finally scored the game-winning shootout goal, I felt like taking off my _____ and _____ it up with my _____.
Oh, _____ on a _____ . It's no _____ use, is it, _____ers? A Scrappy Octopus without swearing is just like a _____ _____ without a _____ to _____on. In fact, this is the first time in my entire _____ life I can say I know what _____up _____hole must feel like. Without the ability to _____ up a _____ , I really feel like some mother_____ er took my _____ _____, _____ ly ripped it out of its _____ place, and _____slapped it to _____oblivion. A _____ hockey fan without the _____ ability to say _____, _____hole, _____er, _____happy, _____-me-sideways is like a _____ _____ around a bunch of _____ hot _____tutes at the _____ kegger of the year. _____ useless, man.
_____ a bunch of that _____ing _____.
And now, please skip ahead to 0:42, _____ers:
28 February 2010
I bought $15 worth of lottery tickets yesterday.
No shit.
Yesterday was the best/oddest day I can remember in a LONG time.
Brian and I began our afternoon by traveling about various malls and stores in our area, searching for a Team USA jersey. We're headed to BWW today to watch the game (and pouring one out for Team America is quintessentially American, yes?).
We didn't really have high expectations for our quest. As I've written before, our area of the world has only started paying attention to hockey with the advent of the Pens' success, little girls' (and boys') crushes on Sid the Kid, and people having wet dreams imagining themselves capable of Ovechkian feats on the ice.
So, what did we find?
1. A Team Russia Ovechkin jersey
2. A Team Canada Crosby jersey
3. A Team USA Orpik T-shirt
Now, I will fully concur with the guys over at TPL that Orpik, as one of a handful of "relative enemies" (isn't that terminology oh-so-appropriate?), has worked his ass off and deserves our admiration.
But going so far as to wear a T-shirt with his name on it? Sorry, no dice. I have many levels of hatred, and while Orpik doesn't incur the full-tilt wrath that others receive, I'd still rather wear a shirt composed of bat barf and possum pubes. That's just how I roll.
Defeated, we had run out of places to look in and around our shopping nucleus until it dawned on Brian: We should check out this souvenir store in Breezewood, Pennsylvania.
Now, let me tell you a little bit about Breezewood, PA. It's about a half hour from where we live, and it's the point at which Interstate 70 merges with the Pennsylvania Turnpike. There is absolutely nothing there, no legitimate center of town or neighborhoods; it's nestled in the Southern Alleghenies, surrounded, most likely, by moonshiners and people who don't wait for deer season to show a 10-point buck who's boss. But because Breezewood is at a much-traveled crossroads, it looks like this:
And there, in that very picture, right behind the McDonald's sign, you see the place that will forever be known in TSO circles as The Greatest Store In The History Of Mankind.
We'd visited said store before when we were in the area; it's a hell of a place to go if you're a sports fan. You can definitely get your fill of Steelers' paraphernalia: drop $20, walk out with a mug that has the greatest hits of your local dialect, which consist of 50,000 different ways to drop "Yinz" and "nyeeeeat" into everyday conversation; a T-shirt with Big Ben's face enclosed in a heart; and a hat with long, flowing curls attached so you, too, can be Polamalu-gorgeous. The only things I haven't seen there that disappointed me a little are actual steel curtains, but I'm quite certain if you asked the owners about them, they'd probably pull some out of their basement or out of their own bathroom or something. In addition to Steelers' gear, they have various throwback jerseys from practically every NFL team ever over the last 40 years or so.
In recent times, they, too, have gotten into the spirit of the Pens' victory by building an extensive collection of merchandise, including an old-school Lemieux jersey and purses made to look like Crosby's and Fleury's jerseys. They even had a lineup of bobbleheads of each person from last year's roster holding the Stanley Cup. I thought about how awesome it would be to see this for the Wings and became intensely, almost violently, jealous.
We were about to leave disappointed and empty-handed because they had no Team USA merchandise whatsoever when Brian left me to go in another room of the store. He came back a few minutes later and said, "I have to see you right now." Confused, I offered, "I'm...here?" to which he replied, "No, you need to come with me right now."
Back in the other room, which, it turns out, is the clearance room, were a couple of authentic Red Wings jerseys. For a disgustingly low fraction of the price typically attached to them. And these were the real deal, too. We combed them over to look for any defects or anything weird, like a missing "T" in Hank's name or some sloppy stitching. Nothing.
Turns out, according to the co-owner, that they had ordered a shipment of Wings' jerseys in anticipation of the Stanley Cup Finals last year, to appease Michiganders who had passed through and commented that they'd like to see some Wings' gear. These represented the remnants of the supply, which hadn't sold as well as they'd initially anticipated, so now they're just anxious to get rid of them.
To ballpark how lucky we felt at being the ones to find them, let me say this: To find these jerseys, at that price, in an area that barely acknowledges hockey exists, particularly outside of the white-hot Penguins, was just astoundingly lucky. We felt like Jonathan Rhys Meyers at the end of Match Point. What are the odds?
With that, we raided every Sheetz in the tri-state area to procure lottery tickets. You don't just pass up a day like that without going for broke, right? Go big or go the fuck home.
FYI: If anybody happens to be traveling through Breezewood, there is a size 50 Lidstrom jersey waiting with your name on it. Check it out.
Yesterday was the best/oddest day I can remember in a LONG time.
Brian and I began our afternoon by traveling about various malls and stores in our area, searching for a Team USA jersey. We're headed to BWW today to watch the game (and pouring one out for Team America is quintessentially American, yes?).
We didn't really have high expectations for our quest. As I've written before, our area of the world has only started paying attention to hockey with the advent of the Pens' success, little girls' (and boys') crushes on Sid the Kid, and people having wet dreams imagining themselves capable of Ovechkian feats on the ice.
So, what did we find?
1. A Team Russia Ovechkin jersey
2. A Team Canada Crosby jersey
3. A Team USA Orpik T-shirt
Now, I will fully concur with the guys over at TPL that Orpik, as one of a handful of "relative enemies" (isn't that terminology oh-so-appropriate?), has worked his ass off and deserves our admiration.
But going so far as to wear a T-shirt with his name on it? Sorry, no dice. I have many levels of hatred, and while Orpik doesn't incur the full-tilt wrath that others receive, I'd still rather wear a shirt composed of bat barf and possum pubes. That's just how I roll.
Defeated, we had run out of places to look in and around our shopping nucleus until it dawned on Brian: We should check out this souvenir store in Breezewood, Pennsylvania.
Now, let me tell you a little bit about Breezewood, PA. It's about a half hour from where we live, and it's the point at which Interstate 70 merges with the Pennsylvania Turnpike. There is absolutely nothing there, no legitimate center of town or neighborhoods; it's nestled in the Southern Alleghenies, surrounded, most likely, by moonshiners and people who don't wait for deer season to show a 10-point buck who's boss. But because Breezewood is at a much-traveled crossroads, it looks like this:
And there, in that very picture, right behind the McDonald's sign, you see the place that will forever be known in TSO circles as The Greatest Store In The History Of Mankind.
We'd visited said store before when we were in the area; it's a hell of a place to go if you're a sports fan. You can definitely get your fill of Steelers' paraphernalia: drop $20, walk out with a mug that has the greatest hits of your local dialect, which consist of 50,000 different ways to drop "Yinz" and "nyeeeeat" into everyday conversation; a T-shirt with Big Ben's face enclosed in a heart; and a hat with long, flowing curls attached so you, too, can be Polamalu-gorgeous. The only things I haven't seen there that disappointed me a little are actual steel curtains, but I'm quite certain if you asked the owners about them, they'd probably pull some out of their basement or out of their own bathroom or something. In addition to Steelers' gear, they have various throwback jerseys from practically every NFL team ever over the last 40 years or so.
In recent times, they, too, have gotten into the spirit of the Pens' victory by building an extensive collection of merchandise, including an old-school Lemieux jersey and purses made to look like Crosby's and Fleury's jerseys. They even had a lineup of bobbleheads of each person from last year's roster holding the Stanley Cup. I thought about how awesome it would be to see this for the Wings and became intensely, almost violently, jealous.
We were about to leave disappointed and empty-handed because they had no Team USA merchandise whatsoever when Brian left me to go in another room of the store. He came back a few minutes later and said, "I have to see you right now." Confused, I offered, "I'm...here?" to which he replied, "No, you need to come with me right now."
Back in the other room, which, it turns out, is the clearance room, were a couple of authentic Red Wings jerseys. For a disgustingly low fraction of the price typically attached to them. And these were the real deal, too. We combed them over to look for any defects or anything weird, like a missing "T" in Hank's name or some sloppy stitching. Nothing.
Turns out, according to the co-owner, that they had ordered a shipment of Wings' jerseys in anticipation of the Stanley Cup Finals last year, to appease Michiganders who had passed through and commented that they'd like to see some Wings' gear. These represented the remnants of the supply, which hadn't sold as well as they'd initially anticipated, so now they're just anxious to get rid of them.
To ballpark how lucky we felt at being the ones to find them, let me say this: To find these jerseys, at that price, in an area that barely acknowledges hockey exists, particularly outside of the white-hot Penguins, was just astoundingly lucky. We felt like Jonathan Rhys Meyers at the end of Match Point. What are the odds?
With that, we raided every Sheetz in the tri-state area to procure lottery tickets. You don't just pass up a day like that without going for broke, right? Go big or go the fuck home.
FYI: If anybody happens to be traveling through Breezewood, there is a size 50 Lidstrom jersey waiting with your name on it. Check it out.
Canada - America's Hat. Fuck Canada, today only!
usThe patriotism runs deep today at the Octopus, and we could not be happier to be watching the gold medal game today while getting shit housed at the local bar (TSO readers - we hope you can be counted on for bail-related issues).
Today's game is going to be intense. As Petrella noted on his lovely post regarding the game, you notice that the general theme so far in this game is how America doesn't really have a chance; Canada is going to roll, etc. Yes, Canada has found another gear, but we did beat them. In this tournament. Last week. It did happen, promise.
Team Canada is better in just about every way on paper. They're deeper, more star power, more aged veterans, better coaching (have you ever heard the words "Man, Ron Wilson just outcoached".....used in a sentence?), better just about everything. Team USA, however, is the epitome of scrappy. They're young and hungry. They play well together, and, gasp, Ron Wilson has been a good leader for this team. (During one game broadcast, Roenick stated Wilson was "perfect for a short tournament." Being that it's JR I immediately ignored it because he is a jackass. I guess he was right.) Rafalski has been great, I've developed a new appreciation for Brooks Orpik (which will last for about another day, at which point I will return to hoping he catches herpes). Jack Johnson has been sitting, waiting, wishing for this forever (ha!). There have been many, many surprises in this tournament, but for me personally, the biggest one is how incredibly likable this team is. I remember Nagano, when the USA men's team trashed their rooms at the Olympics. Disappointing finish, and certainly not a likeable team, highlighted by such jackasses as Bill Guerin and Jeremy Roenick (and seriously, is any team which houses Guy Herbert going anywhere?).
Look, TSO has been, and always will be, American. I'll support America in any international athletic endeavour. This game feels a bit more special. The potential to beat the Canadians on their own soil. Canada, the country who acts as if Olympic gold in hockey is their birthright. An arrogance I feel is maddening. I wish nothing but the best for Babs and Stevie. I will feel bad if they lose, as they may not make it out of GM Place alive. But this game, this time.......USA! USA!!!!!
And now, two housekeeping items.
1. If Team USA wins this game, you can expect a TSO Brian dance number. It will happen. I already have it drunkenly choreographed....IN MY MIND.
2. A little something to get you pumped for the game. There is no better way. Skip ahead to the 1:39 mark:
Today's game is going to be intense. As Petrella noted on his lovely post regarding the game, you notice that the general theme so far in this game is how America doesn't really have a chance; Canada is going to roll, etc. Yes, Canada has found another gear, but we did beat them. In this tournament. Last week. It did happen, promise.
Team Canada is better in just about every way on paper. They're deeper, more star power, more aged veterans, better coaching (have you ever heard the words "Man, Ron Wilson just outcoached".....used in a sentence?), better just about everything. Team USA, however, is the epitome of scrappy. They're young and hungry. They play well together, and, gasp, Ron Wilson has been a good leader for this team. (During one game broadcast, Roenick stated Wilson was "perfect for a short tournament." Being that it's JR I immediately ignored it because he is a jackass. I guess he was right.) Rafalski has been great, I've developed a new appreciation for Brooks Orpik (which will last for about another day, at which point I will return to hoping he catches herpes). Jack Johnson has been sitting, waiting, wishing for this forever (ha!). There have been many, many surprises in this tournament, but for me personally, the biggest one is how incredibly likable this team is. I remember Nagano, when the USA men's team trashed their rooms at the Olympics. Disappointing finish, and certainly not a likeable team, highlighted by such jackasses as Bill Guerin and Jeremy Roenick (and seriously, is any team which houses Guy Herbert going anywhere?).
Look, TSO has been, and always will be, American. I'll support America in any international athletic endeavour. This game feels a bit more special. The potential to beat the Canadians on their own soil. Canada, the country who acts as if Olympic gold in hockey is their birthright. An arrogance I feel is maddening. I wish nothing but the best for Babs and Stevie. I will feel bad if they lose, as they may not make it out of GM Place alive. But this game, this time.......USA! USA!!!!!
And now, two housekeeping items.
1. If Team USA wins this game, you can expect a TSO Brian dance number. It will happen. I already have it drunkenly choreographed....IN MY MIND.
2. A little something to get you pumped for the game. There is no better way. Skip ahead to the 1:39 mark:
25 February 2010
Hijinks on a random Thursday.
You know what blows goats?
Waking up on a Tuesday and excitedly thinking to yourself: "Yay, it's already Wednesday!" About ten seconds later comes the cold realization that it's not, in fact, already Wednesday, but just another shitass Tuesday.
Repeat the same for Wednesday...and again for Thursday.
It's been a looooooong week.
So, what better to do than to have another impromptu Reader Appreciation Day?
I had one once before, in my haste to thank the three new people who visited my blog and didn't live in the same ZIP code as me (back in those days, I'm pretty sure Brian didn't even read every post). For said Reader Appreciation Day, I promised various things, involving sexual innuendos and hallucinogens, to anybody who would listen.
Now I feel like we all just kinda deserve a little something to get us through this week. Fuck it, Sweden lost to the most horrible Slovaks last night, and Canada triumphed over the Russians, which makes me sad in my heart because I wanted Datsyuk to do well, but alas, it just wasn't in the cards.
So, here goes. I also promised this before, but promptly forgot, and thereby, failed to deliver. So, here goes. Levi Johnston and his, er, hockey stick:
(There's more out there that's NSFW, but I don't feel like posting it on here. Of course, you know we're the polar opposite of prudes, but I really don't want Levi's manass on the site. If you want to reward yourself with it, feel free to click here or here.)
Also, one more thing before you X out of this window and never return: Courtesy of my bestest, please click this to discover why an octopus is better than your mom. Your life will never be the same.
And finally, just because:
Waking up on a Tuesday and excitedly thinking to yourself: "Yay, it's already Wednesday!" About ten seconds later comes the cold realization that it's not, in fact, already Wednesday, but just another shitass Tuesday.
Repeat the same for Wednesday...and again for Thursday.
It's been a looooooong week.
So, what better to do than to have another impromptu Reader Appreciation Day?
I had one once before, in my haste to thank the three new people who visited my blog and didn't live in the same ZIP code as me (back in those days, I'm pretty sure Brian didn't even read every post). For said Reader Appreciation Day, I promised various things, involving sexual innuendos and hallucinogens, to anybody who would listen.
Now I feel like we all just kinda deserve a little something to get us through this week. Fuck it, Sweden lost to the most horrible Slovaks last night, and Canada triumphed over the Russians, which makes me sad in my heart because I wanted Datsyuk to do well, but alas, it just wasn't in the cards.
So, here goes. I also promised this before, but promptly forgot, and thereby, failed to deliver. So, here goes. Levi Johnston and his, er, hockey stick:
(There's more out there that's NSFW, but I don't feel like posting it on here. Of course, you know we're the polar opposite of prudes, but I really don't want Levi's manass on the site. If you want to reward yourself with it, feel free to click here or here.)
Also, one more thing before you X out of this window and never return: Courtesy of my bestest, please click this to discover why an octopus is better than your mom. Your life will never be the same.
And finally, just because:
23 February 2010
Hijinks on an average Tuesday.
While dicking around the interwebs today, I realized we hadn't written a post in almost a week, so I shit my pants. Even for our self-proclaimed grade-A laziness, this is unacceptable. What kind of a sham is this site, anyway?
It got me to thinking. I'm too late to the party to write about Team USA's triumph over those dirty Canadians (although for awesome takes on said game, you should probably click here, here, and here).
I have absolutely nothing new to say about the Red Wings at large, mostly because I'm afraid any projections, whether optimistic or threatening, may jinx the team upon the return of NHL play.
It's not Wednesday, either, so I can't unleash one of our weekly questions on you. (Speaking of which, if any of you have any questions you'd like us to hash out on here, feel free to email them to us at TheScrappyOctopus@gmail.com, along with your wildest dreams and deepest, darkest secrets. You will get credit for your original thoughts, and if your dreams are wild enough and your secrets debauched enough, you may get an email response directly from Brian, who will, invariably, be typing pantslessly.)
So, what to do, what to do? Then, it hit me like a ton of scrotum-shaped bricks: Let's get back to basics by doing what we do best, shamelessly mocking others. Then I started pondering all the things I hate, and a couple of hours later, I remembered an old standby: the Scarlet Caps fan club. (You know, the Capitals-sponsored thingy in which we chicks are supposed to get our rocks off gazing at seductive pics of the roster, then we're supposed to enlighten our delicate minds with the intricacies of hockey terminology.)
Continuing my neurotic conversation with myself, I then wondered if I was being narrow-minded. After all, what kind of person am I if I can't be supportive of my sistren? I mean, what kind of hockey fan am I, anyway? How about you? Not sure? Well, grab your pencils and paper (even the fellas out there), and let's find out:
What kind of hockey fan am I?
...the tell-tale quiz
1. When I say icing, you think:
A. "What a cute name for a hockey term!"
B. "I'm going to cut that bitch who's staring at me right now."
C. "Oooh, Icing! I love that store in the mall. Wait, you thought I meant cake frosting? Oh, god, no; that would take me forever to purge."
2. The term five-hole conjures this thought:
A. "But...I don't get it. The goalie doesn't have five holes, does he?"
B. "No, seriously, I'm going to fucking cut that bitch who's staring at me right now."
C. "Five-hole? [Giggle.] OMG, that totally reminds me: Did I ever tell you about that time I got really wasted at a frat party?"
3. You're getting ready to go to a hockey game. Even though you're a casual fan, you peruse your wardrobe thoroughly for the perfect outfit:
A. You accidentally show up boasting the opposing team's dominant color. What, you're supposed to wear a certain color to support a specific team?
B. You can't remember what you wore, specifically, but it was guaranteed comfortable enough in case you had to throw down during intermission.
C. You approach the game the way you approach getting dressed each day of your life: mirroring your style icon, Mariah Carey. She really has a good eye for fashion appropriateness.
4. Your favorite player earns an assist on a goal. Your reaction:
A. "Oh, I didn't see him helping! He's such a cute little helper, though."
B. "Oh, shit, that bitch just heard me talking shit about her."
C. "Why are you not looking at me right now?"
5. You witness your first hat trick in person. How fun! Your thoughts:
A. "I'll only be able to remember this if I think of a magician with a rabbit in his hat."
B. "I can't believe I just got my face beaten in by some bitches."
C. "Hats? Yuck. I'd rather be drenched in stale ball sweat than wear one."
Now, calculate your totals...
Mostly As
Congratulations, you are...
Mostly Bs
Congratulations, you are...
(H/T to Rob, Snooki's biggest fan.)
Mostly Cs
Congratulations, you are...
Couldn't find any answers that suit you? Congratulations, my friend, you are...
TSO-approved! Go ahead--print this out, and wear it as a badge of pride. (Non-transferable. Do not pin this on unworthy peers.)
It got me to thinking. I'm too late to the party to write about Team USA's triumph over those dirty Canadians (although for awesome takes on said game, you should probably click here, here, and here).
I have absolutely nothing new to say about the Red Wings at large, mostly because I'm afraid any projections, whether optimistic or threatening, may jinx the team upon the return of NHL play.
It's not Wednesday, either, so I can't unleash one of our weekly questions on you. (Speaking of which, if any of you have any questions you'd like us to hash out on here, feel free to email them to us at TheScrappyOctopus@gmail.com, along with your wildest dreams and deepest, darkest secrets. You will get credit for your original thoughts, and if your dreams are wild enough and your secrets debauched enough, you may get an email response directly from Brian, who will, invariably, be typing pantslessly.)
So, what to do, what to do? Then, it hit me like a ton of scrotum-shaped bricks: Let's get back to basics by doing what we do best, shamelessly mocking others. Then I started pondering all the things I hate, and a couple of hours later, I remembered an old standby: the Scarlet Caps fan club. (You know, the Capitals-sponsored thingy in which we chicks are supposed to get our rocks off gazing at seductive pics of the roster, then we're supposed to enlighten our delicate minds with the intricacies of hockey terminology.)
Continuing my neurotic conversation with myself, I then wondered if I was being narrow-minded. After all, what kind of person am I if I can't be supportive of my sistren? I mean, what kind of hockey fan am I, anyway? How about you? Not sure? Well, grab your pencils and paper (even the fellas out there), and let's find out:
...the tell-tale quiz
1. When I say icing, you think:
A. "What a cute name for a hockey term!"
B. "I'm going to cut that bitch who's staring at me right now."
C. "Oooh, Icing! I love that store in the mall. Wait, you thought I meant cake frosting? Oh, god, no; that would take me forever to purge."
2. The term five-hole conjures this thought:
A. "But...I don't get it. The goalie doesn't have five holes, does he?"
B. "No, seriously, I'm going to fucking cut that bitch who's staring at me right now."
C. "Five-hole? [Giggle.] OMG, that totally reminds me: Did I ever tell you about that time I got really wasted at a frat party?"
3. You're getting ready to go to a hockey game. Even though you're a casual fan, you peruse your wardrobe thoroughly for the perfect outfit:
A. You accidentally show up boasting the opposing team's dominant color. What, you're supposed to wear a certain color to support a specific team?
B. You can't remember what you wore, specifically, but it was guaranteed comfortable enough in case you had to throw down during intermission.
C. You approach the game the way you approach getting dressed each day of your life: mirroring your style icon, Mariah Carey. She really has a good eye for fashion appropriateness.
4. Your favorite player earns an assist on a goal. Your reaction:
A. "Oh, I didn't see him helping! He's such a cute little helper, though."
B. "Oh, shit, that bitch just heard me talking shit about her."
C. "Why are you not looking at me right now?"
5. You witness your first hat trick in person. How fun! Your thoughts:
A. "I'll only be able to remember this if I think of a magician with a rabbit in his hat."
B. "I can't believe I just got my face beaten in by some bitches."
C. "Hats? Yuck. I'd rather be drenched in stale ball sweat than wear one."
Now, calculate your totals...
Congratulations, you are...
Congratulations, you are...
Congratulations, you are...
TSO-approved! Go ahead--print this out, and wear it as a badge of pride. (Non-transferable. Do not pin this on unworthy peers.)
01 February 2010
Jesus frowns upon your SPORT.
Who knew?
For our everlasting souls' sakes, it sure is a fantastic thing we have the good folks at Westboro Baptist Church to give us the 411 on God's hate list.
Best known for picketing the funerals of anybody they deem to be ruining our country (read: they even picketed Jerry Falwell's funeral, in addition to protesting the motley crew including, but not limited to, U.S. Holocaust Museum, Lady Gaga, the Academy Awards, the entire nation of Italy, Twitter, and the funerals of fallen soldiers), they've really outdone themselves this time.
Yesterday, they took to the Stars/Coyotes game to really stick it to those godless heathens on the ice and in the stands:
Yikes, apparently they're anti-Sunbelt, too:
My thoughts are muddled. After all, for all the things I could possibly be sent to hell for...
Also, I guess I have to throw this away now. Thanks a lot, WBC:
At least now we know why hell is spelled h-e-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS.
For our everlasting souls' sakes, it sure is a fantastic thing we have the good folks at Westboro Baptist Church to give us the 411 on God's hate list.
Best known for picketing the funerals of anybody they deem to be ruining our country (read: they even picketed Jerry Falwell's funeral, in addition to protesting the motley crew including, but not limited to, U.S. Holocaust Museum, Lady Gaga, the Academy Awards, the entire nation of Italy, Twitter, and the funerals of fallen soldiers), they've really outdone themselves this time.
Yesterday, they took to the Stars/Coyotes game to really stick it to those godless heathens on the ice and in the stands:
Whoa, somebody just overdosed on H8rade. (Ziiiiiiiiiiiing!)God H8s Ur hockey! Valor Pl. & Olive St. WBC will picket your stupid, cold (you will truly pray for these days of being in the cold hockey games when you burn in hell for eternity) violent, time-wasting hockey game - your SPORT. You know there will be only a few more of these entertainment events before God lets Obama simply destroy this nation. God does not have anything good to say about your sport(s).
Yikes, apparently they're anti-Sunbelt, too:
In yo' face, Bettman!God Hates DOOMED america, God Hates Arizona, God Hates Florida. You are all going to hell, and there is nothing to do but hear the words, hate the words, get mad at the words - - then get more words.
My thoughts are muddled. After all, for all the things I could possibly be sent to hell for...
Also, I guess I have to throw this away now. Thanks a lot, WBC:
At least now we know why hell is spelled h-e-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS.
18 January 2010
Miscellaneous hockey-related funnies, shamelessly borrowed from Deadspin.
Catching up on my Google Reader reading during lunch, and I thought of you guys when I came across the following two things on Deadspin:
The first is a nice ditty from way up in Alaska, which will forever be known in my book as the state producing the weirdest people ever. (Yeah, we all know Sarah Palin is nutty. But they've also produced Ted "The-Internet-Is-a-Series-of-Tubes-and-Oh-Yeah-I'm-a-Convict-Too" Stevens and Mike Gravel, star of the most kickass campaign ad spot ever.) Anyway, the University of Alaska-Fairbanks Nanooks have a new video featuring their polar bear kicking ass, including a Top Gun-esque air assault on the houses of their foes. Fun times for all. I wonder if this bear took pilot lessons after seeing Putin fly over its home. (Sorry, couldn't resist.) Without further adieu:
Also courtesy of Deadspin, we learned that the skanks from Jersey Shore graced the crowd at the Ducks @ Kings game last week. I know Rob over at The Production Line will wig out over this. Wait, shouldn't they have been at a Devils game? Well, at least now you know how Santa fulfilled my Christmas wish of sending crabs to the Ducks' locker room...
The first is a nice ditty from way up in Alaska, which will forever be known in my book as the state producing the weirdest people ever. (Yeah, we all know Sarah Palin is nutty. But they've also produced Ted "The-Internet-Is-a-Series-of-Tubes-and-Oh-Yeah-I'm-a-Convict-Too" Stevens and Mike Gravel, star of the most kickass campaign ad spot ever.) Anyway, the University of Alaska-Fairbanks Nanooks have a new video featuring their polar bear kicking ass, including a Top Gun-esque air assault on the houses of their foes. Fun times for all. I wonder if this bear took pilot lessons after seeing Putin fly over its home. (Sorry, couldn't resist.) Without further adieu:
Also courtesy of Deadspin, we learned that the skanks from Jersey Shore graced the crowd at the Ducks @ Kings game last week. I know Rob over at The Production Line will wig out over this. Wait, shouldn't they have been at a Devils game? Well, at least now you know how Santa fulfilled my Christmas wish of sending crabs to the Ducks' locker room...
01 December 2009
Miscellany
Yep, this blog has sunken to a new level of inanity with such a title. I'm sorry, kids, but we're turning over a new leaf on The Scrappy Octopus today. Since we've been nominated for a blog-off award of distinction or some such, plus we're trying to be uber good for Santa this year, we're putting on our halos and toning down the scrappy.
How about a quick show of hands for anybody who believes that? Ha, that's what I thought. You guys are way too fucking awesome and smart for that.
***
So, how about that game last night? Wings win 4-1, with little to no controversy. I know, right? I shat my pants. But don't feel bad for me. It was gleefully in celebration!
Also, it seems that everybody ever hates Ville Leino, so I don't feel so bad about writing that post blasting his ass. I feel a teensy bit of remorse for asking Santa to deport him, but oh, well. I'd deport my own mama if she did what he's been doing. And, er, if my mom were from another country. (I'm totally American. I have Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue" tattooed on my heart. Promise!)
I've been putting off writing this because I haven't wanted to jinx anything or start getting out-of-control excited too early, but your Scrappy Octopi are traveling to Detroit next week! As in, less than a week from RIGHT NOW, we will be partying like rockstars in Detroit Rock City. Holy fuck! I don't even know what to do with myself until then. Before we leave, I'm going to post something random about all the things I hope to do in Detroit (I'll try to keep it PG-13, but I'm really not prepared to make promises I have no real intention of keeping).
***
So, I want to direct your attention to two brand new Wings' blogs: Fight Night at the Joe and Red, White & Black-n-Blue. Andy from FNatJ is a diehard Wings' fan all the way from Norway (awesome), and Christine from RW&BnB is a relative newcomer to hockey fandom (I can relate to that) who shares our affinity for boozing it up while dealing with traumatic games. Both sites are very funny and entertaining and score very highly on my Scrappy-o-Meter, so check them out asap, heathens!
***
Also, I want to take a timeout and thank those of you who have actually voted for this site on the aforesaid contest. From the bottom of my heart, muchos gracias. There are so many amazing Wings' fan sites out there, and to be included among the ones I've read and admired for so long is an honor.
Now, I don't want to encourage bribery or anything, but...if you vote for TSO, we'll have a part deux of the Reader Appreciation Day, featuring BJ's and Levi Johnston and hallucinogens and liquor and who knows what other shenanigans. I have an active imagination, so it's guaranteed to be fun times. (Also, Brian's initials are BJ; I'm not saying, but I'm just saying. Catch my drift?) Anyway, take some time and think it over; the offer is on the table until midnight tomorrow.
How about a quick show of hands for anybody who believes that? Ha, that's what I thought. You guys are way too fucking awesome and smart for that.
***
So, how about that game last night? Wings win 4-1, with little to no controversy. I know, right? I shat my pants. But don't feel bad for me. It was gleefully in celebration!
Also, it seems that everybody ever hates Ville Leino, so I don't feel so bad about writing that post blasting his ass. I feel a teensy bit of remorse for asking Santa to deport him, but oh, well. I'd deport my own mama if she did what he's been doing. And, er, if my mom were from another country. (I'm totally American. I have Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue" tattooed on my heart. Promise!)
I've been putting off writing this because I haven't wanted to jinx anything or start getting out-of-control excited too early, but your Scrappy Octopi are traveling to Detroit next week! As in, less than a week from RIGHT NOW, we will be partying like rockstars in Detroit Rock City. Holy fuck! I don't even know what to do with myself until then. Before we leave, I'm going to post something random about all the things I hope to do in Detroit (I'll try to keep it PG-13, but I'm really not prepared to make promises I have no real intention of keeping).
***
So, I want to direct your attention to two brand new Wings' blogs: Fight Night at the Joe and Red, White & Black-n-Blue. Andy from FNatJ is a diehard Wings' fan all the way from Norway (awesome), and Christine from RW&BnB is a relative newcomer to hockey fandom (I can relate to that) who shares our affinity for boozing it up while dealing with traumatic games. Both sites are very funny and entertaining and score very highly on my Scrappy-o-Meter, so check them out asap, heathens!
***
Also, I want to take a timeout and thank those of you who have actually voted for this site on the aforesaid contest. From the bottom of my heart, muchos gracias. There are so many amazing Wings' fan sites out there, and to be included among the ones I've read and admired for so long is an honor.
Now, I don't want to encourage bribery or anything, but...if you vote for TSO, we'll have a part deux of the Reader Appreciation Day, featuring BJ's and Levi Johnston and hallucinogens and liquor and who knows what other shenanigans. I have an active imagination, so it's guaranteed to be fun times. (Also, Brian's initials are BJ; I'm not saying, but I'm just saying. Catch my drift?) Anyway, take some time and think it over; the offer is on the table until midnight tomorrow.
17 November 2009
Slow Day Hijinks (Disgusting).
I just ralphed all over my desk.
Catching up on the 1,000+ items my oh-so-demanding Google Reader expects me to read, I came across this gem, courtesy of Puck Daddy: Claude Lemieux is one of three finalists for Canada's Battle of the Blades. (Go there and watch the video of him dancing AND singing. I dare you. I'm not defiling this sacred blog by embedding it, though.)
That just makes me want to do a triple salchow right into an abyss of steaming lava.
I wonder if he gets a 10 for intentionally boarding his lovely partner.
Catching up on the 1,000+ items my oh-so-demanding Google Reader expects me to read, I came across this gem, courtesy of Puck Daddy: Claude Lemieux is one of three finalists for Canada's Battle of the Blades. (Go there and watch the video of him dancing AND singing. I dare you. I'm not defiling this sacred blog by embedding it, though.)
That just makes me want to do a triple salchow right into an abyss of steaming lava.
I wonder if he gets a 10 for intentionally boarding his lovely partner.
03 November 2009
Best. Thing. Ever.
I give you proof that hockey fans are, collectively, the best at everything ever (even if they are from Pittsburgh), including, but not limited to, ingenious methods of self-pleasure and the willingness to share said ingenuity with the world at large. Behold (from Texts From Last Night):
(412): i paused nhl 10 while i jerked off and it was like a crowd was cheering me onApparently, hockey fans don't acknowledge stage fright, either. Score one for the good guys!
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