So we finally did it. The Pens have won the Stanley Cup for the 3rd time in franchise history. I know this post is rather late, but it is appropriate still. After a few tears were shed, hugs were given, and my arms got heavy from pretending to hold the cup in the air, I realized that the Pens really did do it. The Penguins and the city of Pittsburgh were rewarded for all those hard times, the years where barely 10,000 fans made it to a game, let alone stayed for its entirety, the years where we hoped for the Pens to remain in Pittsburgh, and the years where Lord Stanley seemed to never make it a step closer back to its home, our arms.

Personally, I have been waiting for this moment since I've been born. I know they won the cup in 91-92 but to really feel the presence of the such a championship, this was the first time. Winning the cup was everything I had ever hoped it would be and more. The parade was unreal and to see that these men, who aren't just superstars, but every day people also, could bring such joy to the city of Pittsburgh and anyone who loves the Pens. Although there is a sense of satisfaction, there is a lot of off-season work to be done which is mainly what I will be voicing my opinion about for the remainder of the summer, along with the same old pet peeves and dumb things that make their way into my life.

"Mad" Max Talbot is truly now a Superstar. Go Pens.

The Pacific Blue Saga

   There was an incident the other day that not only reminded me of Mario Lopez and Pacific Blue, but also reminded me of how ridiculous nights in Pittsburgh can truly be. As with any ridiculous night, there were a group of guys drinking. In addition to this drinking, there was some heavy tailgating going on for the Stanley Cup Finals. That equation results in double the drinking. After running through our drinks like it was your sister, we decided it was time to head down to the big screen to watch the game. Like most rookies who break the seal, my cousin decides that he has to take a piss. Of course there isn't a port-a-john within 2 miles and not even Jesus would open up his castle across the street to let my poor cousin relieve his inch worm of its stress. So we decide that if he is going to piss in public, I will too, and even my younger brother joins. Not realizing how drunk I was, I decided to let it hang right in the open grass between the parking lots, where as my brother and cousin decided it would probably be a better idea to go next to a tree or behind a bush. As I finish off giving Mother Nature my lemon lime gatorade, I hear my friend say, "Hey, watch out, there are cops on bikes over there." Not really concerned, I say, "Fuck those cops they are on bikes." I'm not sure if this was out loud of in my head but it obviously gained us some publicity from them. Our drunk, ticketless selves start walking down to the game in our Pens jerseys ready for action. Low and behold, we see those very two Pacific Blue wanna-bees riding their bikes around the parking lot. As we walk towards our seats, pig numero uno takes the jelly donut from his mouth, and yells, "Hey Evgeni!" I look over at my cousin because he is wearing an "Evgeni" jersey. In that split second, about 10 things go through my mind. One of those being, don't run but don't be that moron to actually stop and talk to the cops." Apparently the same thing was going through my cousin's head as we kept walking. In unison, both cops shouted, "Hey Evgeni!" one more time. Unfortunately for my cousin, the alcohol had slowed his thought process, and before he knew it, he was riding solo and surrounded by potbelly one and two.

        After a few basic questions and a stellar fellatio performance by my cousin, he got let off from being cited for "Public Urination" and "Drinking in Public." After what seemed like eternity, "Evgeni" returned to my side and told me all about the story. One of the little miss piggy's who were going to cite him let him go after saying, "Don't pee on my city again." Well I have some insight for him. There is nowhere to pee but on your city, and its not even yours, its ours. The rest is a blur.

Go pens.

Unemployment: The Road to Poverty

Even though I've been meaning to write this post for the past few weeks, I have found it very ironic that I have no time seeing that the unemployment bug as infected more people than the "pandemic" known as swine flu. Speaking of swine flu, so much for it taking over the world. Anyways, I'd probably have a better chance of meeting a girl with a good personality than I would finding a job anywhere near my house. 

I am not really sure why I am unemployed. It is not like I didn't pick up any applications. In fact, I actually applied to 15.5 places. Yes, I applied to half a place because I did half the work which is picking up the application to actually fill out. After rejection and no phone calls, I decided to end my pursuit of a summer job and file for unemployment. Well to my knowledge unemployment checks should be collected by those who are unemployed. That person being me. Well apparently, someone can't collect an unemployment check unless they were actually employed in the first place. Now that is some bullshit.

Unemployment has changed my lifestyle for temporarily. The motto, "money is temporary" tends to be the most affected by unemployment. This motto has been engraved into my head and cannot be taken out, therefore my bank account is going down faster than your mom on prom night. Facebook has made its entrance back into my life and is slowly corrupting my everyday conversation. It sucks, but its what happens when your life consists of eating, drinking, lifting, and going to pens games. I've also been reading a good bit and studying to become a personal trainer but quite frankly I'd rather have a buffalo sit on my face for an hour, then read about "A personal trainer is there to motivate their clients and help them pursue their goals." You've got to be kidding me. I thought a personal trainer was there to talk shit and tell their out of shape clients how worthless they are. Alright, maybe those are just my thoughts.

Unemployment has also led me to blab on and on about the subject. As long as I don't resort to fornicating with fat women for money, I think I'll be able to live with no job and just doing what I want to do for the rest of the summer.

Stay jacked.

Weird Thought

So yesterday as I was washing my hands after going to the bathroom at the gym, I thought of something completely unrelated to working out. I'm sure someone out there has had this same question and same sort of thought process but I'm not sure that I know them. My question to myself was "Why do we wash our hands after going to the bathroom?" I'm not talking about when you take a number two. I'm talking about when you plop the 9 iron or maybe for those unfortunate men, plop out their inch worm and do work on the urinal. Assuming that most people take showers, what is so much dirtier down there than the things we touch in daily activities? People could be touching sick and old dirty people, the tires of their car, or someone's gum ball, but don't think twice about washing their hands immediately after.

I guess there is no point to this question. I was just thinking out loud on why everyone is so paranoid about washing their hands after they go to the bathroom. After all, don't some people in underdeveloped countries drink their urine to survive?

Sick.

Talbot scores. I lose my voice. Pens are up 2-0. Lets Go Pens.

Boston to Pittsburgh to Strip Club

With my car packed more than a black porn star’s underwear, it was finally time to head home to good ole Pennsylvania. As a man of great courage, my cousin decided to make the trek to Boston, spend the day, and endure a long but eventful 23 hours of time well spent with me. The day started at 430 A.M. when we woke up and hopped into the Jeep and immediately began to feel how long of a trip this truly was going to be. Since talking about every twist and turn of the trip is rather redundant and boring, I will mention a few interesting things about the trip.

            Of course there is no way I could reach PA from Boston without passing through the lovely, yet putrid land called New Jersey. Rather than seeing New Jersey, I decided to drive with my eyes closed because it would be better to die as a result of a high speed car crash, than to open my eyes and have them burn slowly and painfully at the eye sore of the United States. Before reaching the Keystone State, my cousin and I decided to take the ceremonial and traditional leak on NJ soil. We figured it was a very generous and selfless thing we could do as New Jersey could only benefit from such a gift. Once finished, we noticed that we were not the only ones trying to help the NJ flora. A girl probably about 5 years old decided it was also appropriate to hold mommy’s hand as she dropped her pants and sprayed the tree. She must have smart parents because she has been taught well.

            As with any kind of trip, we were bound to hit traffic. This traffic though was not because of an accident, not construction related, or not a result of everyone watching a police officer ruin yet another person’s day. This traffic was a result of everyone driving slowly in awe as their eyes were locked on the 18-wheeler that had caught on fire and burnt to the ground. When I say burnt to the ground, the truck was completely gone, leaving a helpless trailer by its lonesome. I had thought about turning around or trying to take a different road, but I realized that this scene was something you see in Hollywood movies, not the middle of PA.

   Towards the end of the trip, we decided to stop and grab some food. As we crushed our food from Wendy’s, we hear an intercom turn on. The man clears his voice and says, “Person number 81, your shower is ready. Please proceed to stall number 6 located on the right.” As the man repeated his message, I look at my cousin and laughed. Not only can you grab food at Wendy’s now, but you can also take a shower right around the corner of the convenience store attached to Wendy’s. If homeless people don’t know about this rest stop, someone should tell them. This place is equipped for them.

   After applying for a few jobs when I got home and no time to nap, I proceeded to venture out to Pittsburgh with my cousin and a friend we’ll call winger. We headed to drink with winger and his brother. After a tournament of beruit and my dignity stolen from a sweep of 2-0 in a best of 3 series, we decided to head to a strip club. As a first timer in the joint, I began to booze harder and harder to get my money’s worth since beer was free once you got in. As I’m on my way to being hammered, girls are throwing themselves at my buddies and I like we are a two for one on the clearance rack at their favorite clothing store. The thing about it is, the girls weren’t even smooth, but rather all business. One approached my cousin and instead of saying “hi” or trying to smoothly seduce his inebriated mind, which wouldn’t have taken much, she instead just says, “what do you say we go upstairs and I give you a lap dance?” At least make some effort to seduce him, or at least fix your gap between your teeth with all your tip money. The highlight of my night was not when I spent 20 dollars on a lap dance, because that didn’t happen, but rather when I sat down at a chair in front of the main stage where girls touched each other as if they were priests at a middle school confession. So one girl does a little dance move touches her stomach then comes close to me and pulls her garter and makes the gesture to for me to put money in. Now either way she was getting a dollar which isn’t a lot but her dance was so bad that instead of giving her a dollar, I responded with, “You’re probably gonna have to work a little hard than that to get a dollar around here.” Not until she told me that I was “the rudest customer that she has ever had” did I realize the magnitude of my comment. Do I regret it? No. Did she deserve it? Yeah I mean she is a stripper and she sucked. Should I have just given her a dollar to keep the peace? Probably. But I didn’t and now she will forever remember me. I don’t know if that is a good thing but I sure got a laugh out of it.

After more drinking and watching women degrade themselves more and more throughout the night, we decided to leave. Of course a group of guys can’t get into their car without someone causing trouble right? Right. Some lanky kid comes up and says that he plays hockey and that his team could beat any team. I laughed. Winger’s brother didn’t bother saying anything until the scrub decided to throw out, “I’ll elbow you in the face.” After getting tossed to the ground by winger’s brother, the kid didn’t learn his lesson. Cops came, we bounced, and I passed out after a long, but interesting 23 hours of pure enjoyment.

No proofread. Had to.

Quick Note

Something funny that happened recently and I didn't have time to write about.

A little background information for the story. So my friend, we'll call him JC, tends to call me a fat-ass every single time we hang out no matter what. Whether its motivation or just out of amusement it happens. Every single time I'm the subject of joking at the dinner table. This time I try to turn the tides. It went like this....

Me: Hey JC, there's 5 more burgers on the grill if you want to stuff them down your throat fat ass

JC: (As he finishes the bite of his first burger) You can't even afford to eat a burger so why don't you get a veggie burger

Me: You would be the only person to eat a veggie burger

JC: No I wouldn't, you can even ask my mom

Me: Mrs. JC, has JC ever had a veggie burger?

Mrs JC: No I don't think he would like those and I've never had one. He takes after me because I like the meats.

I'll let you just imagine the reaction I had to that oblivious statement from his mom. At least it is confirmed that even though I might weigh a little more than my friend, both his mother and he are equally passionate about their meats.

Peace. Love. Prom Queens.

School is over and Summer has begun

The school year has ended, final grades have surfaced, tears have been shed as a result of both of these, but now it is time to reflect upon freshman year in college. Although some people successfully have a blood alcohol level higher than my GPA and still find a way to live, the rigorous curriculum of CGS at BU has proven that it is still the alpha male in our relationship. That is enough reflecting on grades and other things in regards to school because it’s time to relax. Instead, I will reflect on the things that I have learned not in school but either in hockey or through social interaction with friends, or those who unfortunately have made an insignificant entry into my life.

 

1.    Girls tend to cry during or after sex when they lose their virginity. In addition to crying excessively because of their undying love for the man pipe, girls find it necessary stare at their lover as if they were pretending to be a scarecrow.

2.    Money is temporary. As someone who is thankfully not Jewish, I tend to be very conservative with money. As a wise friend had once told me, money is only temporary, so thanks to him, I have washed out my bank account, blacked out, tried to pick fights, and yelled obscene things at people. Thanks man, you truly know how to send me in the right direction

3.    Girls who lose their virginity to their boyfriends “tend” to try to save their relationships even though they understand that they are failures. Most girls will tend to disagree with this statement but its only because they would feel inferior to men even more then they already do if they agreed.

4.    California people are all pretty much the same. That is self explanatory

5.    Going bar down is probably the best feeling in the world. Whether you are by yourself or in a game, tickling the twine where grandma keeps the cookies is better than anything.

6.    Going out any day of the week can be justified by making a tribute to that day. For example, going out on a Tuesday night can simply be justified by making a toast stating, “3^rd Tuesday of the month and last Tuesday before the last Friday before midterms.”

7.    Jager bombs are the best drinks at any bar

8.    Irish car bombs are the worst drink at any bar besides water. (Geeb)

9.    Frats at many schools are a way for kids, who weren’t accepted in high school and were frequently bullied, to finally feel like they are a part of something. I am not saying that is a good or bad thing but rather is a fact of life. Frats pretty much accept everyone and you pay to be friends at first.

10. Girls are status whores. Not saying they are whores, which is likely, but they thrive on the fact that their boyfriends or their purses are the best available. If it will make them look better, then they will feel better about having it. Not concerned with quality, personality, or good looks, girls want any way to gain an edge on the social ladder.

11.  On a less insulting note, something I’ve known to be true, but gains more and more truth everyday is “friends are family.” Stick true to those who are true to you. It is easy to filter because if you have more than five people that fit in this category then it is time to re-evaluate.

 

I’ve learned a lot of valuable things in life that don’t have anything to do with school. The school of life doesn’t offer a bachelor’s degree in college, but instead offers a much more valuable degree, a degree in integrity, loyalty, self-awareness, trust, respect, amusement, and of course, doing the things you love to do.

 

Got to. Want to. Need to. Love to.

I'd like to wish Maxime Talbot a Happy 25th Birthday. I hope someone brings him a better plus/minus rating along with a few goals to the arena tonight in their matchup against San Jose.

Commitment: Doesn't Start with your Mouth

As the first post of the month, there will be a small change of topics as I make a transition from sports to women. The reason for this sudden change is due to the lack luster performance of the entire Pittsburgh Penguins organization causing me to actually want to watch the LPGA tour instead. Hey, maybe they will let a few of the Pens players bring their purses on the course this year. But besides the Pens being in 10th place in the Eastern Conference behind not only 1, but 3 Southeast Division teams, the only thing that has really caught my attention and I have deemed worthy to write about is a certain expectation from women.

The expectation I am referring to is absolutely absurd and is mostly due to the insecurity and helplessness that this experience causes. The expectation: Women expect to date men. Not really too much to ask is it? The experience beforehand: Women performing a 30 minute exercise of "I don't want to be a slut but I really am, but please don't call me one" as they go down and swallow your seed like its the last means of survival. Do you really think a guy is going to date you after that? Probably not. What is even worse are the girls who take a ride on the meat wagon and then want to jump into a long term relationship with that guy. If you really think a guy is going to date you after you coughed it up on the first night, you are more than likely a dumb girl who has done this numerous times which clues the guy into deeming that you are not dating quality and are only a reliable hook up. As a wise man once said, "Do not buy the cow when the milk is for free." If only girls were smart enough to comprehend this simple proverb, then they would be able to figure out why they only get a phone call at 2 am on friday night from their favorite customer.

For example (not the two in the picture above), a friend of mine receives a text from a girl after he has been heavily drinking for hours. The normal conversation through texting turns into the girl saying, "Hey you should stop by later tonight when you are done." If one obvious sexual idea didn't process through his brain at this point, the girl might have had a fighting chance at dating. As he enters into the girl's dorm room, she pushes him on the bed and rips down his pants and proceeds to say, "(name), you are not one of those guys who just hooks up with girls and then doesn't want to date them right?" Would any sane man not just agree to whatever she was saying? Well obviously my friend did because she gave him the oral treatment like it was going out of style. You are more likely to hit the lottery than to see this relationship evolve from hook up status to seriousness. The only thing serious about this situation is the help that this girl will need when her heart is broken because her slutty instincts and whore-ish tendencies told her that something special could become of this matter.

Good luck to those girls who continue to repeat this process. My guy friends really appreciate it.

Steel City=Bandwagon City

As the Penguins slowly slip down the playoff ladder, the identities and characters of many "fans" truly start to show. The fans that I am referring to are Bandwagon Fans or to make it less insulting, Fair-weather Fans, or to make it even less offensive, rich teenage girls whose "daddy's" make enough money to put their little skin flute experts in the front row of Mellon Arena to see their so-called future husbands play hockey, a sport they know not much about. These types of fans have only been actively supporting the team since their gradual incline up the Eastern Conference standings since the coming of superstar Sidney Crosby.

The problem with fair-weather fans other than their constant annoyance to truly dedicated die-hard Pens fans who still saved up to catch a game at the Igloo during the 2001-2002 shit show year, is that they bring a fake and negative aspect to being a fan, and to the city of Pittsburgh. It is disturbing to watch guys and girls send text messages during the games in their front row seats when true fans decked out in all their vintage Penguin gear are sitting in limited view. It is even worse to when bandwagon fans leave their seats for an early exit either when the pens are up by a large margin (am I dreaming still?) or getting plowed like your mom on prom night. If you love the pens like you say you do then why not be a fan and stick with them through thick and thin, from beginning to end. I must concede that watching the pens play over the past few months has been painful. At some points I'd rather watch my nails grow, but win or lose, the hope still resides inside and the dreams of bringing Lord Stanley back to Pittsburgh still linger in my mind.

The fake part that these fans bring to the game is not only their dedication but their tradition and knowledge of the Penguins or even the game of hockey itself. Take a poll of girls and ask, How many Stanley Cups have the Penguins won in their franchise history? a fairly easy question you would think. 7 out of 10 girls would be unsure or completely oblivious to the answer. Ask them Jordan Staal's favorite place to shop and they might even be able to name his bra size. Wait, I meant his pant size.

All in all, I think the majority of pens fans are dedicated, down to the wire, all or nothing fans, but for those pretenders that try to fit in to be apart of something great, stop trying. Many fans have waited 16 now going on 17 years for the Stanley Cup parade whereas these band wagon fans have waited out those years but haven't gone through the pain and suffering of sub-par seasons plagued with injuries and inadequate coaching. Whether the Pens reach that goal of raising the cup in my lifetime or not, I will know that I have stood beside them through it all giving my full support.

Missing Piece: Jaromir Jagr

Jaromir Jagr, the man, the myth, the mullet. Oh no, wait that is Barry Melrose. I wouldn't disagree with anyone who said that Jagr was rocking a mullet in this picture but I think this hair style deserves more credit. For any young man daring enough to sport this luscious flow of brown hair, we will call this the Jagr, to keep things simple.

Boy do I miss this hair soaring in the wind as Jagr breezed past defenders on his way to two Stanley Cup rings and eight All-Star game appearances. Well it is time for the Pens to bring back this scoring machine or as some may refer to him, Mario Jr., not only because he played apprentice to Mario but also because Jaromir can be turned into Mario Jr. Although Jagr lacks the speed from his prime, he hasn't lost a step in point production and overall hockey capability. Ten years after his NHL debut, Jagr found himself as a Hart Trophy finalist with 123 points in 82 games.

What brings the suggestion of Jagr skating in the Penguin sweater for just one more season is Jagr himself who was heard saying, "I was thinking about it and if Mario would call me and say, "I'd like you to play for our team, I would think about it a lot. I would play for minimum salary. I would play for $350,000 just for him because I owe him my hockey life. I want to pay him back because he has made me what I am...besides my parents." Whether Jagr was serious or not, it raised Pens' fans hopes for a positive turnaround for the young squad.

In addition to point production, Jagr would bring a bunch of other key attributes to brighten the Penguins' dismal performance thus far. Not only can Jags (yags as I like to call him) bring enough hardware to give to every season ticket holder, but he can bring veteran leadership, excellent vision, adequate goal scoring, and would be another threat on a very skilled power play unit.

Another bright side about Jagr's return would be that the fans wouldn't have to spend 1/4 of the game (every time Jagr touches the puck) "booing" him like the fat girl at a talent show.

Please Mario Jr., be true to your word because if you aren't, Ray Shero has spent more money than a drunk man at the strip club. So needless to say, the funds are limited. 

As the All-Star break quickly approaches, many fans will purchase their All-Star game gear, grab their tickets, and head to Montreal for a once in a lifetime weekend experience. For those not as fortunate to be heading north for the festivities, their All-Star experience will consist of watching the best talent in the NHL display their skills as they compete against each other in the Bell Centre on January 25, 2009.

The only issue I find with the All-Star game in general is that it may not exactly be the "best talent in the NHL" at the time because hometown fans and texting whores can send their votes every ten seconds in order to secure their favorite player a spot in the game. Granted, every player chosen for the event is an accomplished, distinguished, and elite player among the many high caliber players in the NHL, but for a few players, their ticket to the game is truly fan-based and nothing more. Yeah, it should be this way because it is the fans' chance to get involved and make a difference in the NHL, but for the more deserving guys who have an outstanding first half and are not recognized through this event, it is wrong.

For instance, a guy like Keith Tkachuk, an established veteran in the NHL who is having an average at best season with meager 27 points through 39 games, earns a spot over players such as Daniel Sedin and Henrik Zetterberg. Sedin is on pace for a career high 84 points and would be a solid representation of not only Vancouver's talent but the Western Conference's as well. Also, all four Montreal players chosen for the game are having stellar seasons as well minus Kovalev and Komisarek. Both are talented players but are undeserving of this honor compared to the other players who will not be on the roster. Should the game be in a different location, would these players even be considered? Kovalev, maybe. Komisarek, I doubt it.

Oh well, life isn't fair so I guess All-Star game voting can follow properly in style but there should be some sort of criteria a player must meet in order to be placed on the roster after the popularity portion of the selection process is over. I mean come on. Komisarek with 3 points? He might be talented and playing solid defense but isn't the game about scoring and skills? At least that is what it used to be.

Anyways, with scoring as potent as Peter North's 10 ropers, the East should easily come out on top in this contest. If not, it will be due to the shut down talented defenseman who are suited up on the West side of things. Either way, this All-Star game will be equally enjoyable as the previous ones with the addition of its great location, Montreal: a hockey rich community with a strong hockey tradition.

Look unfamiliar? If so, it's probably because Talbot's scoring has been scarcer than food in Darfur. Last night in Nashville, "Mad Max" put the biscuit in the basket in a hope to put the Predators away while snapping his 25 game scoreless streak.

Staal Resigns: Pens' fans cry

After hearing the depressing news this morning for many "true" Penguins hockey fans, they must have thought it could not get much worse. In case it is not known, Jordan Staal signed a 4 year extension totaling $16 million, but what makes it much worse is that Staal will be playing left wing alongside Sidney Crosby on the top line tonight in Nashville as Therrien has announced this morning.

Now I could pick apart Staal for hours and describe in many ways why he was not worth $4 million a year or even an extension in general but the ignorant and brainless band-wagon fans also known as women might be offended so I will only expose a few flaws regarding Jordan Staal in general.

The salary the Pens have now agreed to, will be in effect in the upcoming 2009-2010 season making Jordan Staal earning only $500,000 less than his superior brother Eric who should I mention has won a Stanley Cup, made 2 All-Star games (this year being his 3rd), and won the All-Star MVP in 2007, all while averaging a consistent 1.02 points per game over his past 3 NHL seasons. Their accomplishments and contributions to their respective teams are not even comparable. Yeah, Jordan is the youngest this, the youngest that, but only in the most insignificant categories such as the youngest player to play in 200 NHL games, but if this young talent of the Penguin future is a true 2nd overall pick, then why is he only capable of putting up a whopping 12 goals in a season in 2007-2008.

I am aware that it is not always and only about points, but when the Pens scoring is lower than a teenage fat girl's self-esteem, it starts to become more about points and less about anything else. What else can Staal contribute to the team besides his sloppy skating stride if he is not putting up points? There are other NHL centers drafted after Staal in 2006 such as Jonathan Toews and Nicklas Backstrom who are on pace or have already outdone Staal in points and overall accomplishments.

I thought Ray Shero was drunk in Cancun celebrating such a successful 2007-2008 season and playoff run after his sub-par off-season activity this past summer, but I want to know how much of Malkin's vodka he drank before he agreed to sign Staal for another four years.

Either way, Lets Go Pens!