This weekend I played hours of GTA Vice City, got drunk wearing a super Afro wig to a Halloween party and participated in my semi-final playoff hockey game against the Husson Boys, Michael and Mark. Our team battled hard, but due to some late penalties, we came up short of the victory. Micahel and I used to play alongside each other during the early days of the Slashing Hyena Hockey Club. The Hyenas are currently embroiled in internal strife as four players are leaving to test the free agent market. I was recruited once again by the organization to play, but I am under contract with my new club for several more seasons.
The feud between Mark and I has officially ended; settled like men with switchblade knives. My crew and I rumbled Mark and his boys in the parking lot of a run down tavern in Aurora. Granted, my gang may have been outclassed and out danced, they are, after all, just a motley bunch of ex-con drug addicts; but when you are in a knife fight, what counts is whom you cut and how deep you cut them.
The knife fight went something like this: Mark insisted that we hold hands instead of the traditional binding of the wrists with a bandanna (or as us choreographed fighting gangsters call it a “doo rag”). Our collective crews encircled us, making sure that our rumble would end in a bloodbath if anyone tried to escape. Somewhere in the distance, heavy guitar riffs were played as we circled around each other like vultures over a fresh kill. Mark struck first, slicing off my right nipple and sticking me in the pancreas. I countered stabbing him in the kidneys, head, neck and chest area. When the dust settled, Mark was on the ground bleeding and I stood over him, arms raised in victory. We then proceeded to limp into the bar and did Jagermeister shots until we threw up. From this day on, I will always admire the tenacity and heart of young Mark. He fought like a cornered pit bull with its nuts cut off. My respect for him will be carried out until my dying day.
After taking most of the summer off like the Colorado Rockies, I have come back to the world wide web, more cut, more shredded than Rocky Balboa did to face Clubber Lang for the second time in Rocky III. In case you are Ray Charles and have not noticed the sexy site overhaul, The MB has a new look that is bound to make you question fundamental web designing truths. I hope you enjoy it.
In my absence, I have been ridiculed and ostracized due to my flight to free agency in my roller hockey league. A young punk named Mark thought it was wise to open his ballwasher and question my actions. Not only are you unaware of the situation as to why I left the Slashing Hyena Organization, Mark, your claims are unwarranted and untrue (especially the part about me being a star athlete). Keep in mind, my friend, that if I had not the left the club, there would not be an open spot on the roster for you to fill, so stick that in your pipe and smoke it. That being said, I intend to destroy you and eat your face when we meet out there on the rink. Then, in the manner of a true hockey player, we will get drunk on cheap beer when the smoke has cleared and you are putting your arms back into their sockets.
Speaking of eating bitches, I give you Big Lurch.
My hockey team, the Slashing Hyenas, skated to a 3-2 victory on Sunday and first ever playoff win. I had a goal and assist in the effort. We now advance to the semifinals, and are just a breath away from the championship.
The NHL Playoffs will begin in just a few short hours. My beloved Colorado Avalanche will be playing the LA Kings in round one. The Kings and their fans are worthless sacks of shit that should be dipped in hot oil and crucified upside down. If you are a hockey fan, you know that King fans boo former hometown defensive specialist Rob Blake every time he touches the puck. Last year King fans threatened his wife and children sitting in the stands during the Avs-Kings series. No doubt these slimy fucks will behave in the same manner through out this clash. Did Rob Blake leave LA on bad terms you ask? No. Rob Blake’s only crime was being traded to the Avalanche. Fucking California. I hope you fall off into the ocean so you can quit stealing Colorado’s water.
Do me a favor and tell my young friend Mark to stop listening to Vanilla Ice. Vanilla Ice is not good enough to suck the sweat off of a donkey’s balls. Even with a Jimmy Pop Ali (Bloodhound Gang) cameo, his new album is still miserable. Aside from Vanilla making a mockery of music in general, he got his ass kicked by Todd “Willis” Bridges on national television. Mark, you are better than this. I do not care how you got the album, whether you purchased it, stole it or ripped it off some mp3 pirate website; get rid of it right now. Remember, I am only doing this because I love you.