Granola bitch Niedermayer can retire. Selanne can go home to Finland and exchange international text messages with B. Lang about high fashion.

And the punk ass bitch Corey Perry can go straight to hell for all I care while Chris Pronger goes back to YEStyping with his elbows on his wannabe blog.

It’s been seven years since I felt so satisfied after a Wing series win. Not seven years this June. Seven years to the day Patrick Roy got laughed off the ice at the Joe. And I can’t tell you how happy I am that the winning goal was “controversial.”

Really Randy? You take issue with that? Interference you say? Oh. Well enjoy your summer bitch.

0500 this morning I’m making coffee in my skivvies. Oh shut up. I know the image isn’t pleasant. I’m setting the scene. Making coffee and still a little…foggy…from last night. I start thinking about the game and next thing you know I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen pumping my fist in the air like a frigging lunatic.

0530 and I go to kiss the sleeping wife goodbye. I tell her this, “I’ll always love you but it’s easier when the Wings win.” I’m certain she appreciated it.

0545 driving through Old Town Alexandria. Top down on the Jeep. It’s raining and I don’t even notice it. Singing at the top of my lungs. AC/DC “Girl’s Got Rhythm”. At a stoplight next to what has to be a 58 year old woman with bleach blonde hair. I don’t even notice her until I’m singing the part about a girl with “backseat rhythm”. In. Appropriate.

0600 and I’m almost to work. Raining harder and it really doesn’t matter. Turn Sirius to channel 14, Classic Vinyl.

Opening strums of “Night Moves.” Un. Frigging. Believable. All I could do was start laughing.

I make no excuses for the mood swings. None. If you don’t understand them you should probably leave. Hell, if you don’t understand them you’ve stopped reading by now.

Now for this.

Al Balderas

I thought fans of the Ducks were among the most talented when it came to planting their feet firmly into their own mouths, but the Detroit Red Wings’ fans stepped in to prove me wrong.
While fans of the Red Wings have legitimate reasons to be proud of their team, 11 Stanley Cups doesn’t give them the right to talk out of their backsides.

Guess what fu**o? 11 Cups gives us the right to talk however the hell we want. One Cup doesn’t mean dick. It means nothing. You’re nothing more than the Lightning. One Cup and done. But that didn’t stop you did it…AL?

The internet’s a glorious invention isn’t it AL? Some of the things you’ve said, AL, are going to live on forever because I’m gonna make sure they do.

Balderas on Wednesday

If Tuesday night’s performance was indicative of the Red Wings’ Game 7 mentality, they should have stayed at their Disneyland Resort hotel instead of flying back to Detroit.
As bad as things went on Tuesday, the Red Wings on Wednesday were among the few people on earth who can fly into Detroit and actually enjoy the view.

How was your view bitch? Enjoy it? Come on back.

Corey Perry went after the guy who was most vulnerable. He knew Rafalski was injured, so he pummeled him. From behind. He knew Rafalski’s not a fighter, so he went after him. Like a little bitch. At the same time Scott “Captain” Niedermayer looked around quickly. Glanced to see if the refs were watching, as if that would matter, then slammed his elbow into Pavel Datsyuk’s face. Like the cheapshot piece of shit he is. Oh, senile old Stan Fischler can call you the “best player in the league”, but we know better. We’ll take our Captain, thanks. Retirement awaits Scotty. Of course you won’t announce it yet. You’ll make your team wait for a few months, take a half season off, screw with their cap hit…because that’s what captains do, right?

The poster boys for scum, that’s the Poultry. And I mean scum. Dirtbags of the highest order who try to play themselves off as “gritty”. Wrong. From the coach to the captain to the sasquatch to Perry to Brown to Wizdoucheski? They play a BS brand of hockey and they’ve been exposed for what they are. Good riddance bitches.

Gary was in the crowd last night to witness some of the worst officiating we’ve seen in a horribly officiated series. And he must have been proud. You’re damn right I blame Bettman for it. You’re god damn right I do. Pronger’s assault on Hossa? In front of the ref? How the fu** is that not called? How is there NOT an agenda Gary? Hudler’s interference? From his knees Gary? You’ve been there enough you know how impossible that would be.

The Ducks. Carlyle, that whining little girl. Their media. Perry, Niedermayer and Pronger. They can all suck it and suck it from the tee box. They can suck it from their porches on a Sunday afternoon while the Wings play in the Conference Finals, for the third straight year. They can all suck it and Gary.ass can join them in a circle of suck while the Wings unleash hell on our little brothers from Chicago.

We told you. We told you and told you again. This is not a team to be trifled with or to try and intimidate. This is a team of character with players who thrive on assholes trying to mess with them between the whistles.

You whined about your short summer after you cheated your way to your single Cup. Remember? Well, no worries. You got another long one coming bitches.

Seriously. Any member of the Anaheim Duck organ-I-zation who would have some crazy reason to be reading this? If you’ve made it this far?

Your pain frigging warms me. Work on that slice for us motherfu**ers.