Lindsay tried to warn Chuck about this last night – I’m surprised Chuck didn’t lock me out of here today!
It’s not that serious, but I’ve got a recurring problem: every time I hear the Rascal Flatts song “Banjo,” I get really excited and start rocking out in my car. It’s a good 30 seconds before my brain remembers, “ACK! I don’t like Rascal Flatts! That guy’s voice drills my brain!”
This is the same experience I have when Danny Briere scores (minus the dancing). I don’t like the Flyers! His voice gives me the creeps! Yet I still get really, really happy for him.
AAGHHHWHAT?! I know. Just listen: he scored 16 goals this season. As in all year. He has 8 goals in the playoffs – as in the last three weeks! Five were vs. Pittsburgh and each was a nail in my coffin. Now I have more perspective. It’s like walking into the gym after a late night, looking at the treadmill and thinking, “This is going to hurt.” I’ve accepted that it’s going to happen, and happen often, so I might as well get something out of it.
I’ve been saving this till you were all buttered up over Claude. Briere’s kids are adorable and everyone’s hair is too long! It’s like a Disney movie waiting to happen – somebody sweep in and make these guys a meal with vegetables! (Giroux moved out, but he’d probably come over for free dinner. You might have to feed Couturier too [link].)
I’m not saying Danny Briere will be drafted by my fantasy hockey team composed entirely of hot dads. Chuck hates his beard and that whispery voice. But he’s kinda Lord of the Rings-ish, no? Legolas by way of the Shire? He looks like he’d be good with a bow and arrow.
Speaking of Flyers I don’t like but can’t help enjoying – I mean Hartnell in just this one case. And when he falls down. Maybe I should make a list!
For Linsday, here’s Giroux in another episode of Things That Are Also Orange:
I still want New Jersey to win, and for Foxy Friday Parise to keep a) losing his helmet and b) scoring goals like last night. I’m not completely insane, just turning into a softie. My only excuse is that I’m traumatized by the playoffs and need a trip to the quiet room. Bright colors and a good old-fashioned Cinderella story are clearly distracting me. I’m even giving myself the “Hall of Shame” tag for this lapse in good judgement.