H-E-Lots of Hockey Sticks

I would like to preface this blog with a quick statement. Screw Al Gore. And his Inconvenient Truth. You know what's inconvenient for me? When I have to ride the T with people who smell like vomit, are vomiting, or girls that shove me out of the way to ride one block causing me motion sickness and the need to vomit.

Where does this anger stem from? I went to a BU Hockey Game on Friday night. And since there is no parking at the arena, I parked behind my beloved store and took the T down to the arena. Big mistake. Looking back on it, I should have risked the hypothermia and loss of my toes but instead I got on the T of Terror. Next time I must use public transportation I am bringing a bottle of perfume. That way I can spray anyone who happens to be sending a stench my way as well as squirt some in the eyes of the girls who think they have the right to stand where I am. Your Prada bag is not a license to be rude. Plus mine is so much cuter.

So onto what really matters: hockey. Love the game. Hot guys smashing each other into walls. Its pretty amazing. And when they screw up they go to time out. Now here is a sport where inventors really went right. To reach men, you MUST meet them at their level. In my experiences, men happen to be nothing more than three year olds in bigger, hairier bodies with bottles of beer instead of bottles of milk. So shouldn't punishments for men model those of a three year olds? When little Johnny pushes his baby sister he goes to the corner. When big Johnny pushes big hot opponent, he goes to the corner. Reinforcement of the rules goes a long way. I bet some child psychologist thought of hockey sometime after figuring out how to make a dog salivate.

Final sentence: BU tied. But oh the possibilities of mankind winning if we all took a lesson from those inventors of the penalty box.