If anyone was wondering where we were, Pinnacle found us about midday, wondering the streets naked and mumbling something about a mission involving a $3 toaster that we did not accomplish. It took us into its loving arms and caressed us back into warmth and happiness with a side of root beer.·
If ever we are missing, be sure the cause is alcohol related.·
In some cases, sex. In many, both.
Anyway, back at the ranch, safe and sound, we got to watch MAF block 43 shots, "like a boss" if this were 2006 and kids were still saying that.
And if you were still down on the MAF, he went and scored all ya'all who went with him on your hair league teams some major points:
Malkin and Crosby pulled together some old school shit, and if some lucky man finds out about daylife, he's going to have an awesome photo for the albums. Seriously, someone find this guy and let him know this picture exists.
And, of course, Go-Go saved the day in a very close-call situation, and the press was nowhere to be found.
So anyway, tomorrow's game we're hoping to be at, if we can drag ourselves out of bed early enough to get our asses down to the arena in time. If you see us, give us a shout, but not too loud because Pinnacle is a brutal lover. If you don't see us, honor our presence by doing something dangerous and ill-advised, like trying to hijack a zamboni.
Hope everyone's doing just fine and that no one got beat down by a soccer mom today.
Keep on enjoying those leftovers, knowing you're celebrating the genocide of my people.
But really, you can't argue with time off...