… meet puck.
it’s that crazy black thing those Red Wings whipped around the ice whenever you got near it–which wasn’t often–like they were stealin’ yer lunch on the playground. You know what little black thing I mean. The one that zipped past your goalie–A LOT.
Yes, darling’s, that’s the one. it’s the one no one could seem to capture and release into the RED WINGS net. The wee black disc that never had more than ONE Dallas Star friend at a time to play with. How about we look at the puck like this–it’s lonely–it’s an extrovert. it needs freakin’ crowds of HOCKEY PLAYERS to show it da love. ALL at once. it loves to be passed around like a whore who’s being paid by the hour at an all night orgy.
Now, before you Dallas fans get all nuts on me (and you know ya got it in ya), ya gotta admit, last nights game was an abomination and I’m not even a hockey fan-fan. My man scored some serious box seats–verra nice. I don’t like to watch hockey on TV, but I lurve it live. I was all in to cheer for you like the old ass cheerleader, 20 years long past my prime that I am. But sweet fancy Moses–you dudes made that uberhard 
Again, I’m sure you’re all fine, young men, but for all that’s sacred–be one with the puck. Please.
Just sayin’.
And speaking of cheering–as an aside to the lovely Dallas Stars Cheerleaders–I know it’s only hockey, girls. No, it’s not the fame and not so riches of the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders. Yes, I understand that hardly anyone can see you do the actual cheering. Alas, the costumes aren’t nearly as cute as they could be, but for the love of a basket toss–could we shake those pom-poms????
Girls–pay attention to a former cheerleader–your pom-poms are your facilitators of fun–your generators of joy–your extensions of exuberance–USE THEM! Use them much in the case of the Stars–they need the love. I’m also sure you’re all lovely young women, and God knows I’d be the first chick out there if my ass looked like any one of yours, but you need to put some enthusiasm into it. As in work what the good Lord gave ya to shirk
And to the Dallas Stars fans–people–I’ve never seen such a display of bad manners in my whole life. Well, that’s not entirely true–you should see my sons eat. Tsk-tsk on you doody-head sore losers.
You bunch of folk need to gather yon southern manners and CHILL OUT. Lawd. So the Red Wings won–it’s not like they called your mother’s ‘hos. Just because they won, and had the audacity to say so on the way out the door, (the door you all hit long before the last period was ovah because you wanted out of that parking lot–loyal much?) doesn’t mean you have to threaten their persons. What happened to all that southern hospitality. Shouldn’t you be inviting the opposing team over for something chicken fried? Some sweet tea, perhaps? I heard more frontin’ by men forty and over in the ten minutes it took us to get to the parking lot than y’all will ever be able to back up. Do remember, if you wanna play on the playground–bring yer lunchpail. it’ll take a whole lot more than you Neanderthal’s sticking your chests out and yelling, “Oh, yeah? Come over HERE and say that to my face!” Surely you don’t want to end such a festive, fun-filled evening by having to go to the emergency room for a bazillion stitches, do you? X-rays cost much moolah, dudes.
Now, in the future, when I attend a hockey function, I’m counting on all of you to BEHAVE YOURSELVES. There will be absolutely no calling of the names, no whiny, sore loser-like tantrums and absolutely NO spitting! Especially when it’s done near my FEET. Don’t think I won’t rub your nose in it. I’ll clunk you over the head with my purse and wallop you till you cry for your mother
Just a heads up–oh, and all in good fun. I’m sure the Dallas Stars were just having a bad day–so any Dallas fans who come across this–mind yer potty mouths, now. I’s just funnin’ ya. LOLLOL.
Dakota
