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It's troubling being an Islanders fan these days. Well, it's troubling most days, but it's worse now because the Isles are falling faster than Tyra Banks' wig on a hot day in Arkansas. The very sight of the Islanders crest makes me want to throw up more than Tyra Banks' personal assistant on a hot day in Arkansas. I want, so very badly, with two weeks off, no new television, and no football to deal with, to jump into a warm jacuzzi of hockey and splash myself with Isles love. But I can't. Because the Islanders suck so bad right now that I'd rather watch the Tyra Banks Show than watch the Islanders lose in spectacular fashion. Again.
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Right now, the only hockey connection I can stand is through my new French Bulldog puppy. She shits the bed as often as the Islanders do, but she's cute. And even though I am an Islanders fan, I have named my tyke Cindy Crosby. This was an agonizing decision, of course, naming the little creep after a division rival, but I felt it was the right thing to do. I danced with naming her DiPietro and calling her Dippy. But I worried that she'd be prone to concussions and devouring banana cream pie. I also considered named her Blake, in honor of Blakes St. Jason and Comeau. But Amy Winehouse's crackhead hubby is also named Blake. So I soured on it. I thought of going classic and naming her Bossy. But then there was the danger that she'd be, you know, bossy. Or that she may have a history of back problems. And so, I named her for Cindy Crosby. I mean, there are so many similarities. Here they are:
- She's black and gold, like a Penguins uniform.
- Big butt.
- Sweet, but can still get on people's nerves.
- Bred specifically to entertain and amaze others.
- Incredibly determined and focused, not on scoring goals, but on chewing up my socks. But still.
- Was kept in a cage most of her life.
