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Archive for July, 2010

So it turns out we weren’t the only people vacationing in the Netherlands recently — it’s the offseason, so many of the Devils were there, too.

Colin White

Colin White

Marty in Zuiderzee

Martin Brodeur

Jamie Langenbrunner

Jamie Langenbrunner

Not Andrew Peters

Not Andrew Peters anymore. WOO HOO!

Arts and Crafts Paulie

Paulie Martin. ::sniffle::

Chalk Zach

Zach Parise

Pando, Archly

Pando. ::sniffle::

Zach Parise

Zach Parise

PL3

Pierre-Luc Letourneau-Leblond

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Dear Devils,

Fuck you too.

Coldly,
The Ookies

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The scene: ChucklesNation International airport, in the deserted arrivals hall.

Gary Bettman darts out of a shadowy doorway, slinks around the perimeter of the hall, forages a half-eaten cinnabon from a garbage can, hisses softly at the Ookies, then scurries away.

The Ookies: “We got our cymballs out of storage for that?”

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So… Kovalchuk, eh? Works for us! We asked for change, and we’re getting it in spades this summer, so much so that we’ve almost completely forgotten about the Arnott acquisition. If you can make us forget about that, you’re doing a damn fine job as a change-making GM, so kudos, Lou.

Because he’s going to be ours for the next 10,000 years or so, we figure we need to embrace Kovalchuk. There are a number of reasons why this should be easy for even bloggers as hard-hearted as we. First of all, he’s not Andrew Peters. ::brushes off hands:: Done and done! Welcome to the family, Chuckles! Second of all, we can call him Chuckles. And when he scores, he can score for a case of Chuckles. Chuckles are a rare candy where even the weird dark-purple-flavored color is still tasty. Sure Kovalchuk doesn’t seem like he belongs, but what the hell? Maybe he’s the dark-purple Chuckle and not the weird dark-purple Necco wafer (also known as “clove”. We know!!!! CLOVE!)? Or at the very least, maybe he won’t turn into the weird dark-purple Necco wafer until a few years from now. Because even though we’re really, really excited for a Kovalchuk signing, and we can’t imagine ever not loving our very own Chuckles, we can’t entirely forget that the last time we were this psyched for a free-agent signing the guy’s name rhymed with “Blian Blolston”.

But let us not dwell on such unpleasantries! Now is the time celebrate, and to get that “CHUCKLES” tattoo in gothic letters across our shoulders! Because a gothic-letter nameplate tattoo is forever, as is Kovalchuk’s alleged contract. No one living in ChucklesNation would be caught dead without one.

Ookies and Co. meet Chuckles at the airport, where they perform the traditional dance of ChucklesNation, demonstrating what wonders await those who sign with the Devils instead of the poopy old Kings.

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A new post.

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Well, we made it one piece across the Atlantic, and have remained in one piece since disembarking in Amsterdam. And look who also got a stamp in his passport:

Mats and Beesie

Mats loves it here, cheering for the Netherlands with his new best friend Beesie. But don’t worry — if the Devils were playing in the World Cup, he’d be cheering for them. He’s a one-team man, Mats.

Our impressions of this country so far are that it’s charming, the cheese market in Alkmaar is the most ridiculous thing ever, and this place has a totally baseless reputation for having mild summer weather. Also, Pookie’s eyes are horribly allergic to the air here. But it’s awesome!

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By this time tomorrow, we will be on our way to the Netherlands for a week-long bacchanal of cheese, beer, wooden clogs, and hanging out with our non-Ookie sister. We don’t normally go places we have to fly to; in fact, the last airplane trip we took had Dallas as our destination. We had a fantastic time on that vacation, and brought back many marvelous memories of the sites we saw, like the Texas Star:

The Texas Star

An unexpected benefit of our Dallas trip is that we now get to be inordinately excited every time we recognize a location in our neverending summer marathon of “Walker, Texas Ranger”:

We've Been There!!!

So what we’re hoping for our vacation this week is that two years from now we’ll be able to scream “we’ve been there!” while snapping freeze-frame pictures of our television during a summerlong marathon of “Walker, Netherlands Ranger”.

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