2 June 2011

Enough Hockey To Make You Puke

Stopped at the store
Bought some food
Next was the liquor store
Bought some Wisers 18 year

Carried it all inside
When I got home
Poured myself a double
Drank it down

The dog needed walking
I checked the clock
Half an hour until face-off
Time enough for both of us

Started supper as the anthems
Were being sung
Rockets' red glare
Don't scare us Canadian motherfuckers


ib said...

Wiser's 18 Year-old ? 15 Year-old Gelen Breton ?

My. You are blending more and more expensive notes as the cooking unfolds.

Well. I've been catching up on some of the good shit I've missed in absentia. You're right. Billy Connolly used to be funny. I'll bet he still smokes dope, though. It was probably exposure to Egon Ronay which killed the wit.

That, and therapy on the house.

A couple of months ago, I'm fairly certain, John Byrne hurtled by in a 4x4. More or less on our doorstep. Shooting glare at an errant pedestrian as he ran the light.

No doubt he and Connolly remain the best of chums.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

After the racetrack, including the government's share of the takeout, and the taxes I cough up at the liquor store, I barely have enough leftover at the end of the year to pay the government to kick the ass of a new batch of Muslim loons every four years or so.

ib said...

I have heard a lot of bad crap about Canadian liquor stores; monthly rationing and the like. I don't know if that's valid. Draconian, if there's truth in it.

Taxes. I can't quit the smoking habit. I'm taxed up to my ass.

Still. You know us Scots: we like to give the impression we're all still living in Culloden under canon fire. Not that I am prapared to debate North Sea Oil.

We taught the Indians to play a skirl on the pipes. Or is it vice versa ? If the climate was bright enough, we'd be peddling them smack.

Well. I am not taking a pop at you, you understand. I am a shiftless motherf@cker. Justed lancing the occasional boil.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Canadians overtly ration our booze and cigarettes by applying taxes that would fulfill any gangsters wildest dreams of money and power. Makes buying a bottle of cask strength scotch a burden for any working Anarchist in this country.