Oh, the good old hockey game!
it's the best game you can name!
And the best game you can name,
is the good old hockey game!
I am so very sick of Hockey. I cannot express how tired of hearing about Mark Messier and what a wonderful thing hockey is. Seriously. Hopefully the whole thing will be finished now. Anyways, Mark Messier was in town to be celebrated for playing hockey and making way too much money doing it. Don't get me wrong, of all the hockey players out there Mr. Messier is my favourite. I've always found him incredibly sexy in a big, brutish, dangerous and ugly sort of way, he was the centre of many or my most heated teenaged fantasies. So, all anyone could talk about for the last couple of weeks was Mark, which street name to change, how fantabulous he was for the city of Edmonton, blah blah blah. I thought that things would finish with the big ceremony that went on last night and that I wouldn't have to hear any more about hockey other than the regular reports that the Oilers had lost yet again. The news today was all about Mark Messier, how wonderful he is, and how super cool hockey and people who love hockey are. I was impressed to see that Gord Downie and the Tragically Hip were in town today, though when they interviewed him about writing a song about Mark, Gord mentioned that it's hard to find a rhyme for Messier.
The other big hockey news is about the Ugliest Man Ever, Ryan Smyth. He has played in Edmonton for years and yesterday he was traded to the New York Islanders. There were people literally bawling about it on the news (one woman kept goiing on about how she has a 6 year old son, and how will she explain this too him? *sob* she's just so very angry, how could they do this? *sob*), and they actually had a very serious bit about how to seek out grief councelling in this dificult time. WTF?? Grief councelling? Recognizing stress in your children? Because an overpaid oaf is moving to New York? Please. There are so many more important things that we should be worrying about, that we ought to be grieving about...it really makes me quite ill.
In other news, Mary, Jonah, Jonah's mum and I all went off to the water park in The Big Mall yesterday afternoon. Every tuesday and thursday afternoons they shut down the waterslides and only charge 5 dollars admission. The wave pool is still on, as are the various kiddie areas, and it is wonderfully uncrowded. We had a tonne of fun, Mary LOVED the waves, and when I finally dragged her out of there her lips were blue and she was shivering like crazy, but she was desperate to stay just a little bit longer. Also, she actually slept at naptime yesterday, I guess the trick is 2 hours in the pool.
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2 comments:
First, props for quoting Stompin' Tom, although I prefer "Bud the Spud" and "Sudbury Saturday Night".
Secondly, thanks for utterly destroying my mind with the image of a teenaged you frantically whacking the porcupine to images of Mark Messier. Squick.
Thirdly, are you serious about the news advising people where to seek grief counselling about the Smyth trade? Like, honestly?
I'm going to steal this for my
category:
"Send in the Grief Counsellors!"
I'm sorry, but that is piss yer pants funny.
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