Super Joe hangs ’em up. One of the most entertaining, humble and classiest guys to ever play the game, Joe Sakic could have scored at a nunnery in the dead of winter. He is guaranteed to be a first ballot hall of famer no matter what snow blowers try to do to him. During the span of his twenty year career he is eighth all time in points, has won two Stanley Cups and holds the NHL record for game-winning overtime playoff goals (8). In celebration of watching Joe play regularly since the Avs landed in Denver in ’95, here is my favorite “Sakic” moment:
How do you like them apples, Gilmour?
Today I reached the “30 Resumes Sent” benchmark and I plan on celebrating by taking a nap immediately after posting this. Thus far I have heard back on six resumes and have a phone interview this afternoon with a company who’s identity I will protect until I either get a job offer or am denied employment based on my affinity for the movie Road House. (On a related note, I ordered Road House 2: Last Call through Netflix and it will be arriving via mail tomorrow. I am hoping it has much of the same goodness as the first installment: mullets, fighting, boobs and a human throat being violently torn out with somebody’s bare hands. I will be sure to keep you posted). All things considered, a 20% contact rate on my resumes is not bad. Granted, 80% of the 20% are “I just want to be friends” rejection emails (which hearkens me back to my freshman year of college) but that is not important right now. What is important is that I do not have to shave for a phone interview. The time is nigh for an unemployment nap. Have fun at work, suckers.
The Chinese have opened the world’s first anger bar. Patrons can smash glasses, rant and even hit specially trained employees all while sucking down Tsingtaos. Denver’s version of the anger bar occurs every weekend during last call in LoDo. Drunken fools spill out into the streets simultaneously and start shit with each other because they were first in line for a $2 burrito being sold out of a cooler. Or because your fraternity is better than that other homo’s fraternity. Or because you were looking at a guy’s shivering slut girlfriend in a mini-skirt, tube top and high heels and it’s thirteen degrees below zero outside.
Joe Rogan dominates My Space. Rules of engagement in email combat: Smiley face shorthand is the antithesis of bad ass.
Much like a keg of PBR in a university fraternity house or Paris Hilton on an aircraft carrier full of cocaine, I am tapped. I just do not have it today (“it” referring to the creative magic that makes me money and causes the ladies undergarments to moisten). While searching for inspiration that was non-porn related, I found a video of the best hockey fight I have ever witnessed. Then Jake sends over Jam On It by Newcleus. Any moment now I expect Turbo to bust out the storage room and do the electric worm past my cubicle. Things are starting to look up.
Jake: Breakaway glass.
Me: We need to get some of that breakaway glass. Then you can come over to my cubicle and say you do not like my designs and I will smash a bottle on the table and say, “Now I got to cut you.”
Jake: Yes. We could get in a fight in the parking lot and throw whiskey bottles at each other.
Me: That would be awesome. We would have to make a scene in the office first. “You fucked my sister!”
Jake: “How was I supposed to know she was a stripper?”
Me: “Fuck you!”
Jake: “I was asleep anyway!”
Me: *flings a salad plate
Jake: *plate explodes against the wall
Me: “Outside, bitch!”
Jake: We will probably need some fake blood, too.
I remember going to my local mall as a child, sitting on the Easter Bunny’s lap and receiving assorted chocolates but never bearing witness to an Easter Bunny beat down. If you are going to beat down the Easter Bunny, at least jump him on his smoke break out back by the mall dumpsters so as not to scar little kids standing in line.