Sabtu, 31 Desember 2011

Silver Fox: Win A Date With An Oldster Holiday Edition #9

SILVER FOX: DATE WITH AN OLDSTER

PUT YOUR BEST FOOT FORWARD WITH CAP'N KIRK

-&-

NAME:

"Captain" Kirk Muller




PREGAME CONFESSION/FULL DISCLOSURE

Okay people. I am neither going to mince words here, nor am I going to play games. This entire exercise is a shameless, poorly disguised excuse to celebrate one of the 12 newbie head coaches who have just been hired by various craptacular franchises over the past two weeks. Why single out Coach Kirk, you ask? What makes him more interesting than the other newbie coaches? You'll find out soon enough. Let's just say that some Canes fans have only recently discovered that their newly-minted head coach is absurdly dashing, especially when he sports earbuds. For some reason, those same fans admit to being at a loss as to "what to do" with their new head coach. I grew up in Quebec and remember the day Muller was drafted. As such, I know exactly what to do with him. Fear not Canes fans! Read on for some insight into what makes Cap'n Kirk tick, and how he can effortlessly conceive an unforgettable date as easily as he draws up deft power plays on his trusty dry erase board.




CURRENT POSITION

Officially: Head Coach of the Carolina Hurricanes. Earbud enthusiast. Headset addict. A very, very sensual man.



Unofficially: Fickle, fastidious Grumplestilskin. Secretly always wants to be somewhere other than where he currently is (uh. oh.). Exotic fish enthusiast. Foot fetishist.


FORMER POSITION

Officially: Flashy left winger for the New Jersey Devils, Montreal Canadiens and New York Islanders. Won the Stanley Cup with the Habs. Was one third of the "Grumpy Old Men" line with the Devils.



Unofficially: Whiny fault-finder. Sulked when he got traded to the Isles and didn't report for work (tsk tsk). Goes by the monicker of "Mud" in towns called Milwaukee, Montreal, New Jersey and Guelph.


WHY HE'S AMAZING

Muller is part of that charming, piss-n-vinegar X'er generation of hockey HOF'ers to be. As such, his specific HOF qualifications are a lot tougher to quantify if you're going by the usual boring HOF barometer the cottonheaded geezers use to determine whether or not a player is "worthy." He's obviously not a Gretzky (and thank freaking goodness for that) but I mean that doesn't mean he's not worthy and it might even mean he's EXTRA amazing you bitches, you. He had a laudable career and did some good stuff. But mostly: He's a fucking BADASS. And you'll just have to take my word for it. Or Wiki him for boring stats. Just remember that back in the day, Muller had the balls to fight Paul Coffey in what can only be described as the most hockey has ever had in common with mud wrestling:




WHY HE'S (STILL) SEXY AS HELL
See the above. He's a fucking BADASS. He and Paul Coffey fought each other naked but for their sweaters. What more could you possibly want?! Muller gives back to wherever community it is where he's living right now. Wherever that might be or whatever. Real estate - who needs THAT, right?! Dresses perfect every night. Rocks hairband metal earbuds like NOBODY ELSE in the NHL and I mean NOBODY. PROOF:




WHAT YOU WOULD DO ON A DATE

This is not your average, vanilla "date with a hockey player" let alone a Date With An Oldster. Cap'n Kirk does not "date", okay?! Dating is purely for amateurs. Tonight, we're gonna kick it old school, and kick it extra special 'cause it's the holidays. Tonight, Cap'n Kirk is gonna go on an old-fashioned "gang-bang" type of borderline orgy date. 'Cause it's a TEAM EFFORT, after all, right?! RIGHT!!!!


Consider this the Date Of All Dates, Hockey Junkies. Oh yes. First, he comments like so for DNF: "STFU. HERE I COME, BITCHES." That's your clue that he's for serial. N&H consider admin deleting his comment because it's so Straight Outta Compton, but thankfully they get distracted when Josh Gorges tweets them obscene pictures of himself wearing a halter, a mini and sequined thigh-highs outside the Harvey's on the rue Saint-Laurent.

Anyway - back to Kirk. He shows up at your door. He's ready, willing and able to collect the following SCALDING & NOT-READY-FOR-PRIMETIME-PLAYERS we all know too well and chide/celebrate with regularity:

NOODLES:


HENRIK:


ESBEE:


SHANNY:


JENNIFER:


GRACE:


SCARLETT:


and, last and most definitively least,

MOUTHGUARD:


The Cap'n is staring in awe and horror at his female (?) companions. "Who ARE these beeotches," he asks himself, and "what freaking planet do they hail from, eh?" But whatfuckingever people. He decides this is going to be the Best Date Ever and let's just get on with it.

"Good evening, ladies! My name is Cap'n Kirk, and it is my honor and pleasure to treat you all to a Power Peppermint Pedicure just in time for the holidays! (Esbee squeals. Scarlett gasps. Jennifer has her doubts.)



Muller walks his girls five blocks to his favorite nail salon, Kenny J's, where Ken Jong-Il (Kim Jong's half-brother) escorts the Hockey Junkies to their foot tubs and plush massage chairs. "Please make yourselves comfortable and pick out your color with our newest nail technician, Jeff Skinner!!!"



Esbee faints and has to be revived with an potent combination of pepper spray and acrylic top coat. Noodles can't believe it, and asks Skin WTF. "Well, Noodles, I don't blame you guys for wondering what's up..." (Squeezing tubes of peppermint extract and dropping delicate peppermint leaves into the foot tubs.) "But the reality is, with the epidemic of concussions plaguing the new NHL at the moment, we gotta keep our options open as players y'know? I have no idea how long I'll be unable to play, so in the meantime I gotta keep the cash flow situation under control. My agent suggested I take some accelerated nail tech classes at Barbazon so here I am. I'm really into the whole airbrush scene. I've met a lot of interesting characters, and I feel like I'm really coming into my own as an artist..."



Kirk agrees, adding, "As an added bonus, the turpentine and formaldehide vapors have done wonders for his headaches, right Skin?!"

"For sure, Coach!" Skin agrees, turning his attention to the newly-revived Esbee. "May I suggest 'I'm Not Really A Waitress' or 'A Oui Bit of Red' for you, Miss Esbee?"

(Turning to MouthGuard.) "As for you, Miss MouthGuard Ma'am, I think 'Quarter Of A Cent-Cherry' has your name written all over it. Don't you?" Everybody dies laughing. Except MouthGuard.

"Alright everybody! How about those Power Peppermint Pedicures, eh?" Kirk is super excited. "This is truly our lucky day, ladies! Ken Jong-Il's salon is one of only a handful in America that offers the ever-popular 'fish exfoliation pre-treatment.' Check out these cute little doctor fishies!" (Shows the HJ ladies little fishbowls of hungry carp.) "These guys are going to nibble on your feet prior to the peppermint!"



Jennifer and Shanny are beyond grossed out. "Are you kidding us? Is this even legal in America?" Jennifer inquires. "I can't see Marian Hossa thinking this is cool, although Stan Bowman would probably be way into it..."

"That's cause Bowman's a crackpipe-smoking 'ho, Jennifer!" says Kirk. "You should try hanging out with his Dad. Or Patrick Sharp's family.

But I digress... You are obviously a very perceptive woman and I appreciate that. But right now, you should consider dipping your toes in your foot tub and allowing these delightful little doctor fish to chomp away at your dead skin."

"This is for sure outlawed in Texas!" affirms Shanny. "No way would Burrito, Loui or Benn be down with fishies eating their feet at a nail salon. That's just wrong!"

Perfectly on cue, Mickey Rourke and Nick Nolte barge into the salon looking for Ken Jong-Il. "'Doctor Fish'?" asks Rourke. "Did somebody say 'doctor fish'?! I sure hope so 'cause I saw an ad for one of them in the back of Asian Fever and I've been meaning to try them out... If you're all out of doctor fish, maybe Doctor Love can do the trick!!!" (Rourke and Nolte chuckle.) Scarlett gasps as the two inebriated geezers stagger around the premises with a cooler looking for trouble. "Henrik, look!" she says. "It's USA Hockey Hall of Fame inductees, Chris Chelios and Gary Suter!" O-kay. My bad. Guess it's not Rourke and Nolte after all.




Cap'n Kirk is not amused. "Ayyyyy, man!" says Chelios, putting his arm around the Canes coach. "Long time no see! Guess the whole HOF sugar hasn't worked out for ya yet, huh buddy?"


Before Kirk can say anything, Gary Suter grabs Chelios' chin. "I don't like yer tone, son. Be nice to Mr. Muller!"

He kicked some serious ass back when, and that's righteous by me. I say instead of picking fights, we should all play nice and oblige these lovely ladies accordingly!" (Slinks over to MouthGuard, who is still having trouble deciding on her colors.)


"Hello, my lovely Cheesy Chili Cheezs..." Suter begins. "May I suggest 'And This Little Piggy' for your toes and 'Brand New Skates' for your fingers, my little Wisco-bred, casaba-meloned, Canadian-raised pixie?"

"Thank you, Sir, but I prefer subtler shades for my hands." (Pointing at his chest.) What's that bulky mass in your jacket?"

"Oh THAT. Thanks for reminding me!" Gary motions for Chelios to come over. "Dude, check this out!" (Pulls a murky jar out of jacket.)


"Look what my buddy Elmer smuggled back from the Amazon! We go ice fishing all the time up in Superior, but we never caught anything like this!" Chelios squints at the jar, trying to see. Ever-true to her Flyers, Grace calls it like she sees it. "You guys are SO DEAD for this! Do you have any idea how illegal it is to smuggle endangered, continent-specific species out of their native habitat? Just ask Jaromir Jagr or Bryz what that feels like. Do you really think walking around with a jar of PIRANHAS is gonna fly?! Who DOES that?"


Kirk agrees, but he wants to know more. "Why would you carry such deadly cargo around in your jacket, Gary? Do you really think this is a good idea? What if the Department of Player Safety found out?"

"Dude, full disclosure!" Gary explains. "I have been WASTED for the past two weeks 'cause of this whole USA Hockey HOF deal! I readily admit that I have no idea what day it is, let alone what city I'm in or what team my nephew may or may not be playing for!" (Looking at the piranhas.) I kinda remember Elmer giving me this jar, but I don't think I realized what was in it until I was brushing my teeth one morning and I thought some of these little guys were brushing their little teeth with me. It's so weird to see fish with teeth!" (Kirk's comely dates look at each with wonderment and alarm.)


Chelios has a brilliant idea. "I know! Let's dump them into one of these tubs to see what happens! Or maybe the cooler! Let's have a race, and see which fish eat away our flesh fastest!"

Ken Jong-Il and Kirk think this is the worst idea ever. Gary figures what the hell. Before anything more can be said or done, Chelios grabs the piranha jar and pours them into a tub Skin is prepping for Esbee, making sure the water temperature is just right. The fish tear into Skin's hand like it's a truffle kobe burger. Esbee screams, and Kirk, Noodles and Henrik swat at the fish with back scratchers without success.

Gary takes immediate action. "I'll teach you little Brazilian toe-eaters a lesson! I'll show you who's boss!" He pours a 6-pack of Red Bull into the bowl. Chelios follows his lead, and drops Jager shots into same.


As if by magic, the piranhas stop chewing and pass out giggling, floating on top like bloated blowfish. Behold: The JagerBomb Pedi.

Ken Jong -Il scribbles down the recipe. Kirk puts Neosporin on Skin's hand and gives him some Robitussin. Gary and Chelios high-five each other and hug, helping themselves to Skin's Robitussin. Everybody breathes a sigh of relief. Kirk's dates bliss out to Adele and their Power Peppermint Pedis. Everything is suddenly quiet. The World Is Right.

Until Gary Roberts and Brendan Brendan Brendan pull up front and spoil it all. Roberts rips into Kirk and Ken. "Carp exfoliations are repugnant and have been illegal in North America for the past four years, people! Kirk, what the hell?! You of all people?!"


Kirk is forlorn. Shanahan picks it up from there. "Really, Kirk? The foot thing again? You should know better, buddy. Freaking gnarly. The Department of Player Safety has no choice but to suspend Ken Jong-Il's establishment for a week pending re-certification and a hygiene inspection conducted by the Department of Health..."


Shanny pleads with Shanahan to have mercy on everybody's favorite new coach. "Shanny - if I may call you that - all we ask is that you hold off on releasing the incriminating video of what just happened! Please! The Canes' reputation depends on this discretion, and we wouldn't want anybody getting the wrong impression from all this. (Pointing at Chelios and Suter.) You have to admit that it was all started by THOSE TWO. They just couldn't restrain themselves, could they? Trouble follows them wherever they go!"



Jennifer: "PERVERTS!"

Henrik: "CRETINS!"

Noodles: "INGRATES!"

Scarlett: "WEIRDOS!"

Esbee: "RUFFIANS!"

Grace: "THUGS!"

MouthGuard: "STUDS!"



Just look at how an awesome date went horribly, horribly wrong in a heartbeat. Don't let trouble and bad coaching plays follow you wherever you go in 2012, HJ readers. Do yourselves a favor and call Kenny J's, set your sweet asses up for a Power Peppermint Pedi and for crying out loud, put your best foot forward for a change. Your ever-faithful MG.

Jumat, 30 Desember 2011

Date Night Friday: Ryane Clowe

In honor of New Year's Eve coming up we figured that this was as good a time as any to get this Newfie dated by us.

And we like Mouthguard's idea for this date so we're going with that. It's gonna be an intense ride that's for sure.

-&-

What's up, ladies? I am Ryane Clowe, with an 'e' so get it right.


This date will start out with me picking you up in my monster truck because that's how I roll, literally.

We go to my favorite pub and get a nice pub meal.

It's greasy and messy and delicious. We wash it all down with beer.

And more beer.

And after two hours, we're drunk as all hell. But it's okay because I can handle my alcohol and obviously so can you. That's why we're dating.

We go to the next bar, next door and just drink even more. We play darts and laugh and cause a scene.

It seems that one dude is unhappy with our raucous behavior and wants 'to go' with me.

So we double-team fight this guy and then have to leave the bar in a hurry.

Instead of going home, we go to the bar down the street and then destroy shit there. Another dude doesn't like the look of me and starts another fight.

This time I fight alone and you egg me on in the background. It's perfect.

After this bar and fight, we finally call it quits. I think I'm borderline blackout and you're getting blurrier by the minute.


At your house, I walk you to your door and as you're unlocking the door I do 'the lean' and give you the best puppy dog eyes I can make while drunk.

-&-

Well, do you let Mr. Clowe in?

Did you have fun on this date? Was it something you would do again?

As usual, let us know!