Many of you may have noticed the lack of a motherfucking game day post during game 2 with the cock-sucking Rangers. Some of you may have assumed I finally had the big heart attack we're waiting on. Well fuck you, I run a hockey team, I don't get paid to blog so you shit blasters can kill time til you get to go home from your 9-5 and dull your pain with rum coconuts. But I would have blogged, I love Caps fans. But That goddam cunt pierre. He's done. He kidnapped my son. I cant prove it was him that set it up, but I spent all friday killing eastern-euro golliwoggs (NO, YOU'RE XENOPHOBIC!) to get my boy back. I wouldn't have had any ideas who it was, see, BRUCEY SHOOTS FIRST, ASKS QUESTIONS LATER. THE ONLY MAN I TRUST IS A DEAD MAN, AND THEY CAN'T TALK. But I received a letter today, I know there can only be one Sinestro-esque shadow puppeteer behind the curtain. More to come.
FUCK,
Bruce
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