For the record, given the choice, I would definitely rather be a pirate than a ninja. But that's just me.
Also, last night I finally caught up on this week's episode of "Bret Michaels' Rock of Love," a.k.a. The Greatest Reality Show Ever. There have only been 3 episodes of this VH1 gem so far, and I still have no qualms whatsover about giving it that label. Those of you who aren't watching this show yet: WHY NOT?! [insert baffled look on face of bouncer at The Burren here] There's something for everyone here, whether your interests swing to music, romance, football, motocross, or gigantic fake tits. Highlights of the show so far this season include:
- Bret Michaels making out with anything that isn't nailed down (and a few things that are)
- Heather and Tiffany, drunk, arguing over the "proper" way to execute a pole dance
- Bret having all the girls compete for who could give him the best phone sex, WHILE HE WAS HOOKED UP TO A PENIS READING MACHINE
- Two girls getting in a fight over whose enormous, fake, circus-looking boobs were less fake and circus-looking
- A big muscle-bound chick (Rodeo) putting another girl (Lacey) in a half-Nelson
- My favorite line from any TV show, ever: "Don't threaten me with a good time"
- Bret yelling "John, get my insulin!" every time the girls give him a lap dance or something and he starts getting worked up
- Repeated use of the whole rose/thorns metaphor
And, while I am not happy about how this week's elimination went, I am still 100% on board for the rest of the season.
[Just like eeeeeeeeeeeeeevery cowboy sings a sad, sad song]
Also, here's a little feel-good news to offset that tragic Minneapolis story this morning: Shawn Thornton making an appearance at a kids' hockey camp in Franklin. While Thornton's arrival in Boston is not quite as exciting as some of the other athlete landings we've had over the past couple of days, it does remind me of one thing: I fucking love hockey. It's definitely my favorite thing to watch in the baseball off-season (sigh), for one reason: nothing beats watching athletes who love their game. The thing that sets hockey players apart from any other breed of professional athlete is that they would play hockey no matter what. They would play it for free. If something crazy (like pineapple) happened to the Earth and we all had to relocate to the sun, hockey players would find a way to keep ice solid at 9,600 degrees (Thanks, Wikipedia!) so that they could keep playing. Hockey players are OBSESSED with hockey. Anyone who's ever attempted to date an amateur or semi-pro hockey player knows this. (Tip: if you do attempt this, DO NOT under any circumstances let drop that you like the movie "Slapshot" unless you want the damn thing quoted at you non-stop for the rest of the night. Sheesh.) And that's what makes hockey so damn fun to watch. That, and the fights. Ha. I'll be going to a pre-season game or two and then most likely amusing myself with a pre-season Bruins writeup, so if you want to learn more about hockey (particularly Bruins and BU hockey), hooray!
I miss Wayne Primeau, so here he is (I especially love this photo because of the skeptical-looking fat dude in the Joe Thornton jersey behind him... this photo must come from right after The Trade. Awkward!):