Archive for December, 2009

It seems sort of strange that we should have to chase yesterday’s amazing game against the Pens with another game right away. Shouldn’t the schedule have built in some time for savoring? What gives? Anyway, we’re back in the saddle already, with the Devils in Chicago and in lo-def. BOOO! We wanted 2009 to go out with a bang, and instead, it’s going out with a murky haze of what might be two of the top teams in the NHL, but might also just be some red- and white-colored blobs moving around a blueish-white TV screen.

Our intro is all about Madden, whom we’d pretty much forgotten. If Marty lets him score tonight, our entire decade will have been ruined.

Wait, never mind – it doesn’t matter if Madden scores, because Stan manages to fit a whole bunch of so-lame-they-don’t-even-qualify-as-terrible puns about various players’ names before the game starts. And with that, our decade has been ruined. And the cherry on top is that Peters is back in the lineup tonight. Did we ever say we liked hockey?


17:11 When Land Zhark’s name comes up in the play-by-play, it’s greeted with a chorus of “Candygram!” here at stately IPB Manor, and then Pookie suddenly blurts, “Blandygram!” Pause. “Have I said that before?”

16:30 Chico chortles about Peters’s excuse for his tie-down issue in the last game he played. Apparently he was “so excited he forgot to tie his sweater down”. On the one hand, we want to complain about what a complete fucking idiot he is, but on the other hand, we really liked that he got tossed out of that game early. Peters makes life so difficult.

13:47 The first big scoring chance of the night for the Devils comes from some hustle by Zach in front of the net. It’s stopped by Huet, and then our audio picks up some jubilant female squealing that makes it sound as if Gel-O and Chico are broadcasting from a party boat. Which, considering the legend of Gel-O that Stalky thought up last season, is probably the case. It is the New Year, after all.

8:59 We miss a few minutes while assembling our meringue mushrooms, and come back to hear a story that Madden asked Marty to bring him a few game-used sticks that he could give to people in Chicago. And Marty apparently said that if Madden scores on him, those sticks will get packed up and go ahead with the team to Minnesota. Heh.

5:50 Marty makes an amazing save on what looks like a gimme at the far post (or maybe the Blackhawk just whiffs on his shot, or hits the post – we can’t really see because this picture is so terrible. It’s like we’re watching through the windshield of the Med U.S.A.) on a delayed penalty, and after the shot, Madden goes down in a giant, flailing heap, his gloves flying everywhere as he clutches his face as if his life force is ebbing out of it. Pookie then reminds us of our favorite Maddenism from his Devils days: “THAT STICK TOUCHED MY EYE!” We go to commercial, and when we come back Chico is confused about whether a second penalty is being called on the play, with the initial whatever-it-was, and then the high stick on Whitey. It turns out that Whitey is in the box, but only for one penalty. Madden hasn’t gotten any better at drawing high-sticking penalties than he was in Jersey.

5:16 Blandy didn’t bring his A game with him on this trip, it seems, and Brouwer scores the first of what we suspect will be many Hawks goals tonight. 1-0 Chicago.

3:31 The Med U.S.A. is taking on water! Blandy didn’t even bring his B game with him on this trip, and after he whiffs on an attempt to just carry the puck in the defensive zone, Eager scores. It’s 2-0 Chicago, and you know what? If the Devils are going to have a let-down game (which they clearly are, and we can’t blame them for that, since we’re not exactly all that interested in them playing tonight either), would it killthem to let the hot guys on the Blackhawks score? What’s with this Brouwer and Eager crap? Why not Mr. Beefy or Duncan Keith?

0:00 Remember how good that game against the Pens last night was? Remember that feeling? Yeah, we don’t either.


19:38 Gel-O brings us back to the action by casually mentioning that the Devils are down by two. Schnookie: “Yeah, but it feels like 17.” Pookie: “If they let in another, I’m throwing mushrooms at their heads.”

17:49 Just as Pookie gets up to check on the mushrooms, the Devils make themselves into mushroom targets by all stopping in the neutral zone to watch while the Blackhawks get a two-on-one way in close, and Ladd makes it 3-0 Chicago. At least Mr. Beefy got the assist, so there was some pulchritude involved. Boomer sums things up well by sighing, “Well, put this in the loss column.”

16:50 The Devils respond well to falling into an insurmountable hole by taking a penalty. Chico tries to cheer us up by mentioning now that the Hawks have such a terribly-managed salary cap that they are in a hard-and-fast “win now” situation. And you know what? We’re petty enough that it does help to hear that.

15:34 Gel-O decides to tell us now that the penalty was to Mottau, for holding. We don’t really care. It’s all of the same here on the bleak ship Med U.S.A.

13:51 Zach fails to score on a penalty shot. Pookie points out that he’s gone an entire game without a goal, and maybe it’s time for us all to get worried again.

13:03 The Chicago crowd gets to roar with derision at the patheticness of the Devils when Rolston winds up to take a giant slapshot on the fly, and a Hawk just skates up behind him and takes the puck away. Don’t get too excited, Hawks fans – after all, Rolston is the worst hockey player on earth.

8:30 Hey! There’s Mr. Beefy! Taking a tripping penalty! Thanks for letting a handsome guy on the scoresheet, Devils. Oh, and now it’s time for the first PP of this fine, fine let-down game. Should be exciting.

6:30 Hmph.

6:04 As if this game is feeling sorry for us, the Devils get another PP. Chico tells us the Devils need to start doing something to generate something. We’re not waiting for that while hanging from a rope around our necks. (We have spent the last few minutes reading the final entry on the Top Ten Reasons Why This Feminist Is A Sports Fan” list we linked to yesterday. The reason is “Sports are Joyful”. Schnookie reads it aloud to Pookie and Boomer, and after we contemplate that, we agree the author can only be saying that because she hasn’t seen this game.)

4:04 This entire fucking power play has been in the Devils’ zone. It is capped off, though, by Madden attempting a spin-a-rama shorthanded chance. It’s exactly as hilarious as it sounds.

2:25 If we had to come up with a list of top ten reasons why we hate sports, this game would be at least six of the items on that list. Gotta love going from the high highs to the low lows.

0:44 Boomer puts things into perspective by asking, “Which would you rather have? The shutout against the Pens, or winning this game?” She makes a good point, but would it have killed the Devils to give us both?

0:00 Woo hoo! Only 20 more minutes! (We get an interview with Andrew Ladd, and as Pookie emphatically hits the mute button, she snarls, “Shut up, Ladd. I don’t like you.” Pause. “And my friend doesn’t like you either.” Boomer then adds, “And shut up, Stan.” Schnookie: “I like you even less.”)


19:38 Pookie is busy staging a meringue mushroom photoshoot, and can’t unmute the TV. So we’re spared whatever Chico’s trying to say right now about how easy it’ll be for the Devils to get back in this.

18:44 Back-to-back icings is not, we don’t think, how the Devils are going to get back in this.

17:40 Pookie finally comes back into the living room and says, “Well, at least it’s not 4-0, which is better than last time I came in from the kitchen during play.” As if on cue, the Hawks take a delay-of-game penalty. Chico tries to suggest that the comeback is starting here. We’re not sure we believe him.

17:12 A clearing attempt whips into the Hawks bench and drills Hjarmalsson in the side of the head. He goes down hard and is slow to get back up, then staggers slowly off the bench into the dressing room. That’s not cool.

15:19 Well now it’s 4-0 Chicago. Instead of watching this game, would you like to see some baby pictures of our meringue mushrooms? Why, of course – we’d love to share them with you!

Makin' Mushrooms

Meringue Mushrooms 1

Meringue Mushrooms

10:30 We return to paying attention the game in time to hear Chico telling us all about how John Madden’s kid was all sad about having to leave New Jersey, and blah blah blah, and if he’s trying to get us to gain sympathy for the Madden family while we’re watching this crap, Chico’s crazier than we thought.

4:49 When Madden scores from long range to make it 5-0 Chicago, we call it quits. Pookie: “There goes that decade.”

0:00 Welp, that sucked from tippy top to tippy bottom. Regardless, Happy New Year, Gentle Reader!


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APPLEBEES HOSTESS: “I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t eat here without pants. It’s a policy put in by the corporate heads.”
PAULIE: “Well they can go fuck themselves!”


OFFICIAL HOCKEY HALL OF FAME STATISTICIAN: “I’m afraid ‘plastic star’ is not an officially recognized award.”
ZACH: “You can go fuck yourself!”


GROCERY STORE BAGGER: “There are no more plastic bags. You’re going to have to take paper.”
LANGER: “You can go fuck yourself!”


ART STORE CLERK: “Nope, we don’t have block crayons. Only stick ones.”
TRAVIS: “You can go fudge yourself!”


ANDY GREENE: “Uh, there isn’t an all-star game this year. The NHL is participating in the Olympics instead.”
STAN FISCHLER & RICH CHERE: “They can go fuck themselves!”


US BORDER GUARD: “ClarksonNation is not recognized by the United State of America. This ‘passport’ has booked you a one way ticket to the detention room, mister!”
CLARKSON: “You and your ‘real’ nation can go fuck yourselves! Er, I mean, here’s my real passport. No, no! Don’t deport me!”


MARTY: “I’m the all-time wins and shutouts leader! Go me!”
PATRICK ROY: “You can go fuck yourself.”
MARTY: “::Smirk::”


LOU: “And that completes our trade of Cam Janssen for Bryce Salvador.”
BLUES GM: “Aw, fuck me. Cam Janssen?!”


YANN DANIS: “Please, sir, I’d like to start.”
LEMAIRE: “Go fuck yourself.”


ANDREW PETERS: ::Breathes::
THE OOKIES: “You can go fuck yourself.”

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It feels like it’s been a thousand years since we last saw the Devils, and it’s going to be a couple extra hours beyond that for us tonight, as we’re on tivo delay. We’ll try to post our increasingly incoherent thoughts, though, as we watch the game in the increasingly late, late night tonight. It should be fun!

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— What is UO with that commercial for whichever car it is that has that man-sized hamster driving the car? We keep waiting for the payoff, or at least the explanation, but no. It’s just a man-sized hamster gazing into the car showroom, and then driving around in the car. Why? What’s the point? Do they want us to think of their vehicles as hamster wheels? Because that doesn’t seem like a great thing to be associating an automaker’s product with. Good thing we have no idea which automaker is responsible for the commercial. (Way to be a doubly effective commercial, hamster. We don’t understand you, and we don’t remember what you’re for.)

— Meanwhile, and perhaps more importantly, the armed forces of ClarksonNation are practicing all their finest parade formations, because their emperor-god is supposed to return to the lineup tomorrow! WOO HOOOO!


The only bad news there is that just across the border, all those ceremonial displays of military might from ClarksonNation are making the citizens of the young ZharkovNation nervous. They are mounting their own displays in response.


This could get ugly.

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Open Thread Saturday

Welcome back, Gentle Reader! Or, if we want to annoy Heather with our Texas-yness, howdy! We hope everyone had a wonderful holiday, and that everyone expecting a visit from Santa had a good one. We’re currently buried under a mountain of loot and leftover foodstuffs, and ready for what we consider the second half of the hockey season to begin. (We’re actually going to be out with friends this evening for our annual December 26 Discussion Of The Loot but we shouldn’t be back too late…)

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Merry Christmas Mats

‘Tis the day before Christmas and all through stately IPB Manor not a creature is stirring except for Victory Euro Mats.

Christmas Mats

He’s here to wish all of our Gentle Readers a safe and happy holiday.

Merry Christmas Mats

Since hockey is taking a break for Christmas, so are we; we’ll be spending the holiday enjoying good food, good cheer, and good company, and hope for all the same for y’all.

Merry Christmas Mats

We’ll see you back here again on Saturday!

Merry Christmas Mats

What should we have asked for for Christmas? Better photoshopping skills.

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Today we decided the very best way to honor Marty’s 104th shutout was to commemorate it in gingerbread form.


Yes, those cookies are every bit as breathtakingly awesome as the game last night was. But nothing’s too good when it comes to telling the world how great we think Marty is. Devils fans are just so lucky to have been able not only to get to see some of Marty’s career, but to have seen all of it. Really, how cool is it that when you look at a video retrospective of his career, the only sweater you see him in is the Devils? That’s our deep thought to add to the Marty discussion — we think he’s rad, and we love that he’s ours.

Meanwhile, in other gingerbread cookie news, we had a whole bunch of leftover dough after making the 104, so we cut a bunch of other holiday shapes. We aren’t really into the whole “cookie decoration” scene, so we went about adorning them with sanding sugar half-heartedly. A Christmas tree here, a glittery star there, an ax or two, and of course, some gingerbread men. After taking them out of the oven, we discovered something shocking about two of the gingerbread men:

CoreyPerry and Getzi

They look exactly like CoreyPerry (CoreyPerry) and Getzi!

We swear, this was completely by accident, but seriously, isn’t it an incredible resemblance? There’s golden-haired CoreyPerry (CoreyPerry) on the left (sure, that’s supposedly a gingerbread woman, but CoreyPerry [CoreyPerry] seems like the kind of guy who enjoys wearing culottes, right?), and balding, cranky Getzi on the right.

December 22 2009

It’s uncanny.

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