We haven’t been doing much hockey analysis here at stately IPB Manor. It could be because things are going pretty well with the Devils. Or it could be because we’re too busy discussing really important things like this:
Pookie: I just put through a request at the library for a DVD called “Super Snake”. It’s a Nat Geo DVD about “nature’s most elegant predator”. It says “National Geographic debunks the myths and reveals the startling truths of the Super Snake.” I wonder what the startling truths are.
Schnookie: I BEG to differ about the snake being the most elegant predator. That’s falsehood number 1. I KNOW MY PREDATORS, and YOU, SIR, are NO elegant predator! ::gazes happily at Siberian tigers knocking peoples’ heads off::
::OR MOTHERFUCKING CROCODILES::
Man, snakes BLOW.
Pookie: Not Super Snake. He dresses in a tuxedo. And knows which fork to use with which meal. He’s VERY elegant. You should see him dance.
Schnookie: I HIGHLY doubt it. At some point he’ll slip up, most likely at Ascot, where he’ll shout at his horse, “Cor blimey, move yer bloomin’ arse!” He’s FAKE elegant.
Pookie: You’re going to regret it. When Super Snake sends you a polite request for a proper duel, in which he’ll kill you. With his 300 ribs or whatever Nat Geo said he has. Each rib has it’s own elegantly-tied cravat.
Schnookie: Yeah, that SEEMS impressive, but does each elegantly-tied cravat have its own elegantly-tied cravat?
Pookie: No, they don’t. I guess you’re right, super-snakes aren’t Nature’s most elegant predator.