Fricken Habs

I'll keep it short. I was shrouded in hockey darkness, what is known as how Christmas break ruined my life.

And Crystal Ball Huet. Beautiful. Amazing. Whatever the flip the Gods gave to us. A little silent puppy who clung and clung and clung.

Too bad he had to be put down.

Oh I mean sent to the Caps.

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Merry Christmas and to all a good night!

I'm a good 2 hours early (well in Australialand) and the HLOG office has been a little half empty. We're all hitting the problem of trying to balance our hard partying lifestyles with the duty of being a faithful HLOG typer. I'll be honest that my only need for the Habs to satisfy me is for them to just win (which they won't because let's face it - they're slimy little fucks).

So for this Christmas in the HLOG headquarters of Jordi's house, she'll be kicking back with some non-hockey socialising and embarrassing myself on a friend's Wii (named PNES because he is a geek and he found it hilarious).

However as a big thankyou to everyone else, to all you gals who might have been around since the last months or even our first christmas last year - it's a big Merry Christmas from Jordi.

And as the head bitch, I'll be giving any of our readers a big
BIG MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM HLOG.

(oh and may the Habs feast on the blood of your newborn rookies and slightly ragged veterans with gimpy legs)

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Hockey reading sorta.

If you, your nan, your mum and your cousins don't have this already then I'd suggest you go get it now. It's a simple book, though if your team sucked last season maybe you shouldn't. Either way, if you like Sidney waving his tushie like no other, then my friend, this is the book for you.

But come on, it's a good book. Well, good enough.

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Weekly Topic: Hockey in strange places

Considering the last non-topical weekly challenge went fairly well, I wanted to continue with another one.

Anyway several months ago, I'm at a concert. A girl is holding a little bag with the Phlyers logo. My jaw almost hits the ground. Either a) the girl is really wanting to not get laid that night or b) I need to leave the concert before I pledge my allegiance to Simon Gagne or something. So it really hits me sometimes I do see hockey or a hint of hockey that makes my heart leap. Everyday I tell myself I'll probably hug anyone who wears something Habs-related, only to realise I missed one a week ago.

Either way, when was the last time you saw something hockey in a strange place?

Anyway on other things - my internets died in the Jordi HLOG central. With my cell as my only form of contact to the NHL, Sidney Crosby still wont return my calls.

And on Jordi skate day, it's 2 down, 10 more to go. Another shitty session shortened by the sudden arrival of annoying school classes. I wanted to take them all down off the ice. And oh yeah, I still suck.

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I am not amused. Rink - 1, Jordi - 0

I want to apologise, in my tired as hell and horribly weary state, I have been a bad hockey fan. As a bad hockey fan, I turned my back on hockey for the sake of exams. I turned my back on hockey when real life was telling me to do things other than hockey. And I didn't come back because I have been so freaking busy. How busy? Well not so bad, but bad enough for me to sit back and not notice hockey waving a big banner of "WTF MATE?". (and the bitching thing is that the Habs are having great games when I'm not around. Should I just be a Leafs fan so I can keep those buggers at bay with my ability to infect things with suckiness?)

And in order to try to work hockey back in, I decided it was time hockey cashed in a debt with me. My past pledge to skate everytime the Habs won is slowly becoming reality. And by reality I mean that I have nine more sessions to go in order to catch up, not bad.

And possibly, this may show how busy I have been that I have to cram all this in one day.

Anyway it's been several months since I've skated, so I laced my babies up nervously. I even redid my laces in a way of telling myself "I don't know if I'm drunk enough for this". However as I took to the ice, a school class was enjoying themselves so I wasn't as terrible as I gripped the boards at first and also kicked them in fustration. (but not too hard since it's a shitty board and it might fall over and the RINK SUCKS).

The place looks ravaged by global warming, and by the end of three hours - everyone had to get off because everyone was falling. Whether it was fatigue or the ice was shit - I was more willing to blame the rink. However as I concentrated on not falling, I focused my attention on mouthing the lyrics to the songs on the sound system (first up: Kaiser Chiefs' Retirement). I got my grips to moving forwards in a somewhat confident manner while Christina Aguilera told me "good things come to those who wait" and fell down when Rhianna started singing Umbrella. Good news, falling down is no longer an ass plant or knees slamming the ground affair. I would trip and slowly skid to the ground, giving me plenty of time to scream "SON OF A BITCH!" or the ever popular "TOEPICK!".

I fell down on my knees as Timbaland told me the way he are, and eventually I did get the hang of it. And started trying to do little exercises I thought would help me. However to be honest, I still suck and blow like the Boston Bruins against the Habs (zing!) and I'm too terrified to try balancing all my weight on one foot. Though I do sometimes manage it if I'm in a good groove.

I did get hit by flashes of "I won't make itttt!!!!!" where I envisioned bloody carcasses all over the rink as I accidentally cause accident after another. But I did feel some rink rage as people held hands in groups of four and blocked my way. Or even just stand dead centre chatting - I mean omf people - get off the ice, get some coffee, don't make me hurt you because you guys make me anxious standing there like Sheldon Souray.

In a way, I may have made progress but I honestly don't know. It could actually be me being delusional and skating really isn't my thang. But it's fun. And saying this the day after, the only thing I wish I could get rid of is the muscle ache after - physical activity is not my friend.

Nonetheless the day ended with me piercing my ears (3 on each ear now, and not hurting at all really) and also a Muse concert. My verdict was if the NHL had their crew, hockey would so not be a minority sport with all the flashing lights and money.

And today I am tired. I can only lie my head and cry myself to sleep. But hockey is still there, even if my bruises hurt so bad I'm seriously doubting how long till I can skate circles around people.

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TOPIC CHANGE: Superstitions part 2

Okay so here's the new weekly topic, it has appeared in the past but I want you guys to still do it. Srsly, new season. New mindset.

ESPN recently published an article on how fans feel about superstition. It's a bit familiar to all of us, and I know I am freaking insane when it comes to this stuff.

A nurse from Eldridge, Ala., Pate said she refuses to own a red car or purchase anything crimson. So when she recently had to spend time in a hospital after the birth of her twin sons, she was aghast when she noticed someone had brought her a pink toothbrush. Auburn promptly dropped two straight games.

• Has something similiar happened where you feel a loss or a bad outcome was because of an event that happened to you?
• Do you have your lucky things? How did it become lucky?
  

A post in relation to this topic should be written, it can be as short as you want or as long as you want.

Or you can talk about Oprah. Your call.

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oh COME ON.

(insert comment here)

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A not so friendly Habs note.

Dear Reader/Lurker/Person passing by,

I have been spending the past hours, more accurately the whole day, gloating. And that is because I am a bad hockey fan. I know I should spread messages of love, peace and understanding. But fuck – did you just see the score? Is that a score I should pretend to be all calm about? I’ll be honest here; I wasn’t very enthused at the start. The Habs were on the chopping block for my love of all things Hockey. And they wasted no time in proving their love for me. Komisarek got on his knees and – bless his heart – he begged to not be left behind. Markov told me that without me, he wouldn’t be able to read basic street signs. Plekanec had a turtleneck dedicated to me. And well Kovalev – he did something?

And yes, Huet. Oh Huet. The French bastard stole my heart.

Nonetheless it was a bit pear shaped, the Habs only had 50% of what penalties the Bruins had. Manny the Tranny was hung out to dry and Francis Bouillon finished with a +3. Fancy that.

And by the way, I am still an awful fan. I told the resident Canucks fan that his team sucked so much I was proud to wear my Oilers shirt (only because he told me to get rid of it). I even poked fun at the kind of things the team lost to, even if I enjoyed the Canucks I couldn’t pass up a good gloating.

And yes boys and girls, Jordi may be the fun aunt but she isn’t the aunt you listen to. Especially when she touches the vino.

And as a parting note, guess the defendant!

Plaintiff soon began to suspect that her husband was having an affair with her brother's wife. In the summer of 2002, she confronted defendant about her suspicions; both defendant and her sister-in-law denied having an affair, and plaintiff had no reason to disbelieve them. She allowed her brother and sister-in-law to remain living with them. On December 24, 2002, however, defendant admitted to having an adulterous relationship with his sister-in-law. When, on December 28, 2002, plaintiff learned that the affair was continuing, she removed defendant's belongings from the marital home and asked him to leave. He stayed in hotels and then an apartment for the first few months of 2003.
After the separation, plaintiff still had access to the couple's joint bank account and to her credit cards. Because she was uncertain about her future, she immediately withdrew $300,000 from their joint account and deposited the money into an account in her own name. Plaintiff admitted that she spent some of this money on plastic surgeries for herself and her sister and for a car for her sister. She claimed that some of the spending on her sister was consistent with the couple's prior gift-giving practices and that some of it was to compensate her sister for helping plaintiff with the children.

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Jordi hates the Habs - in a different way.

I’m copying this from my blog to the HLOG. Lazy? Yes. But am I the admin? Yes.

Jordi knows she’s been busy – it’s the NHL’s fault for their unfortunate schedule problems. Nonetheless the Habs are a bunch of freaking pornstars, you get the blowing and the sucking and the climax ends with a bit of dodgy music and a cheap whore at the door.

Anyway yes, I’m trying my hardest to use Habs every day. For example recently, this conversation took place:

Jordi: FUCK SHIT NO FUCK FUCK FUCK.
Friend: What’s the matter? The Habs lose? The Oilers suck?
Jordi: Nah I forgot to enrol to vote. But yes that too.

However it’s hard for me to tell me about games that I’m having so much fucking trouble listening to. And all I can say is – blame the Mac. The thing which Windows XP crapped out on and all that the Mac does is act as a wankstain on my lap. But the Mac’s alright, it’s just that hockey hates me.

Such as ruining my luck with people I meet who may potentially be “My new hockey friend”.

It always started with me checking up on my dear habs at canadiens.com, where my friend exclaimed, “dude it’s CANADIANS. With an A”. I told her not to worry and was enjoying myself and she started bugging me some more “Why is it with an E? Oh my god, have I been spelling it wrong all the time?”. Now let me introduce “guy sitting next to us on the other computer”, let’s call him Exhibit A. He leant over and informed my friend “It’s French, the Montreal Canadiens”. And with a cute accent that would make every girl take their pants off – up until they saw his face. But who cared, he could’ve been a Habs fan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Unfortunately that day I wasn’t in the right state of mind. As my friend inquired with Exhibit A “So you speak French?” he replied with “Oui (insert random French onhohoho) French Toast”. And at that point I thought it would be funny to tease him and go “You’re so sexy.”

Queue awkward silence.

Queue me explaining it was a joke from a hit TV show named Friends (In my defense it WAS. And if you were any of my friends you would know I joke about it ALL the time).

Queue me burying my foot into my mouth.

And that was boys and girls, how I single-handedly destroy every chance of hockey socialising. I still haven’t gone up and karate-chopped the friend-of-a-friend who turns out is a Canucks fan so my chances are still good.

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So them boys...

We have our fantasy news, our hockey news, and best of all we at HLOG pride ourselves on providing the best useless celebrity news. Stolen from Perez Hilton.


The pair were enthusiastically cheering on the pride of their home... the Bruins? Seems to me Krasinski should cheer for his fellow Polish-Americans.

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It's a little... mannish

Beautiful.

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So I'm no wings expert but,

How rad does Henrik Zetterberg's new shop look?

Free posters for the first 200 customers with "Red Hot" as the slogan, what more could a little Wings fanboi want?

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A 5 second post for the busy Habs fan.

This is our #11, our god, our Saku Koivu.

This is Plekanec, he believes in turtlenecks. When he scores hattricks, turtlenecks fall.

This is Andrei Kostitsyn, he's bringing mullets to the Slavic community.

This is Komisarek, he bleeds Bleu Blanc and the godly Rouge.

This is Markov - he is Defence. I'm sure his full name is Andrei D Markov.

Go Habs!

I have been lazy. And yes, fuck.

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HLOG Suck Fantasy Draft List

Choose carefully girls. And the goalie list is a little extended so you HAVE to have a starter on your team. Anyway enjoy!

HLOG Fantasy Draft List

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HLOG Fantasy Suck League Reminder

If you haven't registered, DO IT NOW. I don't care if your kitty's sick. Our draft is on SUNDAY 12:30 PM ET. If you can't attend, try to autodraft but I can't promise much. The draft takes usually less than an hour, so you could go back to sleep after to catch some Zs. I will post a roster of top picks which you can draft from only soon. If you skip the draft and fuck up or accidentally draft downwards, I will bug you to fit with the rules or I will kick your ass.

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HLOG Fantasy Teams II

Here's the deal, it's been sitting in my head. We have 12 teams like the last league. Except this one you don't play to win. You play to lose. Capische? Alright here's how it works. Everyone's players have to be selected from the top yahoo list. So if it's D-men, you have to pick from the top 48-50 d-men suggested by yahoo. And so forth. However the person with the least points win the league, as opposed to the person with the most points.

So you put your claim of "my team will so suck" to the test, and we'll get ourselves a hoot of a league. And the winner/loser will get a free shirt. I dunno.

If you're in, sign your name in the comments!

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THAT WAS HOT.

LET'S DO THAT AGAIN!

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A short message from your friendly preseason hockey HLOGette.

So I'm tired as hell and all I want to do this morning was to kick back in the computer lab hidden from the teacher and listening to a quality feed of hockey. Luckily Centre Ice wasn't a full whore and decided to comply. So with sound and video, what was I to do but join in with some quality commentating with our dear co-HLOGer, Caps Chick.

Of course the final part of it went a little like this:
[10:25] Jordi: THIS IS BULLSHIT
[10:25] Jordi: FUN THE SENS
[10:25] Jordi: RIGHT IN THE FUCKING EAR!
[10:25] Caps Chick: FUN THE SENS?
[10:25] Jordi: FUCK THEM
[10:25] Caps Chick: hahahaha
[10:25] Caps Chick: got it
[10:25] Jordi: THEY'LL HAVE FUN
[10:25] Jordi: BECAUSE THEY LIKE
[10:25] Jordi: TAKING IT UP THE ASS

Apart from that ugly moment, I assure you that our commentary was fairly biased. Caps Chick has a habit of betraying her Sens sympathy and I have to pick up the slack there in intense Sens hatred (I am a Habs fan, we think we're better than anyone in the North-East division).

It started with our regular constant praise of Olie the goalie, the stonewalling man of steel, that studly greek god of all net minders, the... you get the point. We launched into who Ovie would destroy first. I suggested Emery before reminding myself that Gerber baby was starting - so it would be him and then Emery. Alongside that, when Ovie got his own penalty, we started a great rendition of "BULLSHIT!". Caps Chick was vocal about her Brooks, reminding me every moment he appeared on the camera. I can almost still hear a voice at night screaming "Brooks! Brooks! Brooks!". It was alright since later in intermission, when the camera panned to a beautiful generous shot of their little backup named Neuvirth, all I could get out was "NEUUUUUUUU" before passing out from his overwhelming intensity (and that gorgeous fructis emo hair) in chewing gum.

When I came to, the game took a break to give us a sample of what Centre Ice ads would be like. The consensus? Wow, a whole lot of lame. We were rather stunned by the ads, Caps Chick providing her thoughts ("WHAT. THE. FUCK. WAS. THAT?"). In her defense, she mentions: "cold medicine is fun - everything is fucking hilarious to me now". In relation to many great Gerber saves, I scream "Damn you Volchenkov! You bastard whore! Go play for a real team!".

Our celebrations were big and happy, almost as if it were the playoffs and they were fighting for conference finals. Either that or Caps Chick's hand in marriage.

And this was me in a silent computer lab; I was the only one giggling like a kid forgetting to take her pills.

Alas, the game didn't end as planned and we had a couple of mean things to say but it's pretty much it. We had a kickass time and provided the best commentary.

So maybe we should make this preseason a more fun thing. I know blogs provide a game day post with comments but I like the personal aim program with no refresh needed. So any kid with spare time should hit us up, either me (gunstress@gmail.com) or any available chica on AIM (add your screen name in the comments), and we can make a group chat a la movie night.

We'll rock preseason!

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Tuppo suspended for being physically unfit.

Wait. WHAT? The poor guy gets heart surgery and the team screws him over. Pisani breaks like spaghetti and he gets to stay.

Um. I'm sure when I wake up, the problem will be over but wow - what assholes.

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A side promise of myself.

I'm not afraid to say that I absolutely suck at skating. So much that I have little trouble posting photos of me sucking. So that's it boys, your shitty rink may own me over and over again but I'm not giving up. My friends tell me that some amateur lessons may be in order. Unfortunately, I'm giving the big finger to lessons and going to learn how to stop gravity from getting the better of me alone. I'm going to spend my days and shame by myself so you know - I'm that kid who's stubborn but secretly cries herself at night for her folly.

But can I stand it? My knees can only turn black and yellow so much. And I used to tell myself that my schedule could take it but social life and studies threatened me.

So here's what's up shitty rink and shitty ice and my shitty skating: everytime the Habs win, I go skating once a week. Of course the Habs play more than once a week - so I'll just save it for the next week. So I may end up skating the whole year, and I did consider making the deal with the Oilers instead but... They're Oilers. I'm very doubtful this will work, and I might take breaks. But you know, I'd like to be optimistic.

So what should I do? Am I just insane?

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