2 March 2014

Hockey Game and A Punk Rock Show

Went to a good old hockey game Friday night with Jimi. Sonja dropped us off at the hockey rink Steepleton is never going to pay for without holding one fuck of a lot of bake sales. Belsen was better and more enthusiastically attended than hockey games in my tight walleted city.

It was one of our AHL team's many cheap beer nights but the novelty of that promotion appears to have pretty much worn off. There is more life in a fucking zombie movie than you will find in our infamous rink you would hear even more negative shit about if my city was not so fucking busy chasing homeless people around like Elmer Fudds chasing Bugs Bunnies.

We forewent the cheap beer instead helping to finish off the limited supply of Jack and Coke on hand. The hockey (or was it the whisky?) was particularly good even with the home team having recently lost a couple of it's best young talents to it's parent club in Motherfucking, Alberta.

We left halfway through the final period when the whisky ran out and we had shaved about $200 off what our fellow citizens get charged each year for the pleasure of having a money losing hockey club in town. Perhaps we make up the money in the tourist visits generated by having our boys travel around America in their Steepleton jerseys. (Pardon the sarcasm. Steepleton has not had a tourist since we drained the lake that once attracted duck hunters from all over fucking near 100 years ago.)

Cabbed to a club from the rink to catch a few punk rock bands and get us some more Jack. Club started putting on rock shows every couple weeks or so but we had yet to check it out. $10 to get in. Every band as smoking hot as the Ukraine. We were easily the oldest motherfuckers there but everybody was real nice to us.

We only found out we were drinking with the headline act's singer when he took the stage. Guess you could say he drank us under the table. That has never happened before. "The years must be fucking catching up with us," was how Jimi summed it up the next morning.

Sonja found the two of us passed out on the living room floor with the Hammer in the morning. She was looking at us like a nurse looks at twin jellyfish babies when we woke up in the morning.

"You boys have fun last night?" she asked.

Fuck yeah.


Danneau said...

Jack and Coke? Careful, that Coke stuff will kill you.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Got that right. When I stick with beer or whisky I can usually measure my wastedness. Coke fools your mind into thinking you have not yet reached the end zone.