This is what happens when I have too much time on my hands, enjoy!


So it was Brad May long weekend and all of us Eric Brewers and Trent Hunters decided to go out for the night. We walked into the local bar and found a bunch of Charas to sit on. My buddy immediately Billy Guerin-teed that the night would be a Messier.

I Ryan Malone’d some money to my friends to buy a few pints of Rickard’s Red Wallin but the bartender said they were out of PJ Stock. We settled for splitting a bottle of Alexei Smirnov and continued to lay Kevin Lowe for a bit. Then our resident comedian started cracking jokes with some girls in the next David Booth, he always Getzlafs. The jokes were a Stephen Weiss decision because his Brendan Witt brought the girls over to our table. We were Ben Eager to meet them, and I introduced myself and said “It’s nice Demitra.”

Ian White girls, Dustin Brown girls, James Black girls, my buddy says he was even chatting with one that said she was from Paul Kariya. We probably should’ve stopped drinking for the night after meeting those Keith Primeau girls, instead we just drank even Dominic Moore. The girls weren’t impressed as we got more obnoxious and called us a bunch of Damien Cox, so I Stephanne Yelle’d back “That’s Phaenuf of you! You broads look in pretty Lindy Ruff shape anyways!” and then gave them all the Jeff Finger. Needless to say, all the girls turned on us and we were Belarussian out of the place pretty soon after.

So once we get outside of the bar we realized it’s Jeff Friesen out there! We put on our Al Coates and since we’re all hungry and decide to walk down the Damien Rhodes for a late night snack. Well one guy started thinking he wanted some Jari Kurri dish, but it was too late by that time and our only choices was Joey MacDonald’s or Tim Nathan Horton’s. We decide on Andy McDonalds and halfway there one guy can’t take the dizziness any Luongo-er and starts “up” Tkachuk-ing in a snow bank.

We made it to the restaurant and the boys bought me my Umbergers so I said I’d take the Carey Price of my meal and Markov it from what they owed me for the Bob Beers. Well the Matt Cooke didn’t do a good job on the Howard Bergers, and I ended up runing to the bathroom Eric Staal and started Valeri Zelepukin.

As much as the night turned out to be a bit of a Messier, I went to bed knowing that this was a Trevor Daley occurrence; I’d be up to the same stuff tomorrow.