Plastered in Paris

Oh this is sure some kinda donkey doodoo – but what can I say. I’ve been out of it for a while and it’s gonna take a while for it all to come back, ehh.

You guys just need to hang on while I find a purpose for my being again. All I can say is that is that some where along the way I’m gonna be walking with wood again.

I’m getting a lot of my strength back – I think anyway – not real sure how much strength I had before the little boo-boo to my brain and hardshell skull. But the Hon says that I am and I ain’t about to fight with her over it, ehh. If she says it then it must be fact.

She told me last week that I’ve been talking in my sleep – talking some shit she says and usually it’s about hockey. So she sat me down last Saturday and tells me that we’ve got to dig into this. Get to the root of the changes in my sleep habit. So she got the doctor to order a sleep study. It got approved right away and I had a sleep-over for the study on Tuesday night. Oh and let me tell you guys – sleep studies are some kinda nuts.

The Hon drops me off at the sleep-over clinic at around 9:30 pm. I’ve got some jams with me, my favorite pillow and a paperback. They get me signed in, show me to my room and the bed I’m going to sleep in. I get into my jams and the technician comes in and puts twenty-four different probes on me. These wired up little do-hickies are stuck on my head, up my fool nose, on my chest, shoulders and legs. And I’m expected to sleep. Are they nuts or what?

I don’t think I slept a wink but in the morning I had to fill out a survey about my dreams. I was drawing a complete blank so part of the program was that I had agreed to an injection of fast acting sodium pentothal and their direct questioning if this occurred.

Nuts!

I really hate shots. But I had agreed to do this I guess, so off to the world of absolute subjected honesty.

They had to videotape this whole truth serum thingy and than provide me with a copy afterwards – otherwise I wouldn’t be able to relate any of the following shit to you. Apparently there is some amnesiac drug included in the serum, ehh.

Let me fill ya in on what transpired. Ya might find it just as stupid as I did.

Ok, so they start out asking me some simple questions like what is my name, how old I am and than dig a little deeper asking more personal questions to confirm my subjection to the concoction that they loaded me up with.

The tech, I’ll call her Joan, finally gets around to asking dream questions.

“Mr. Wheats do you remember dreaming last night?”

“Ahh … yup … sure”, I responded.

“Did you have more than one dream Mr. Wheats?” Joan quizzed me.

“Two vivid ones and a couple of maybe little snips of others. Oh and call me Wheats or Jasper, please, I really don’t like being called mister anything. Sounds too stuffy for me, like I might have my head stuck up my ass or something. Just don’t like it. Ok?”

“Ok, Jasper, I’ll make an effort to be more casual, though it goes against the professional nature of this study. Now let’s go over the first dream that you’ve remembered.” She made a couple of marks on the papers she had attached to a clipboard and looked over at me still sitting in my jams on the edge of the bed and said “Was this dream in color or black and white?”

“By golly” I said, “it for fuckin sure was in color! My dreams have been in color since the seventies. That’s when I used to do all them psychedelics. Whoa baby, those were some crazy times, ehh. How about you Joanie girl? You get colors too?”

She made another mark on the clipboard. “Mr. Wheats”, cleared her throat and continued “I mean Jasper, this session is about you not me. You need to keep your responses restricted to only what I ask. There is no need for you to divulge your personal history to me. Ok? Is this clear?”

“Um-huh. Sure. I gotcha.” Damn if I’m not smiling ear to ear in the video.

Ok, Jasper, back to the dream. Was it a good dream? Happy, fun, enjoyable? Or a bad dream? Scary, fearful, intimidating – maybe a nightmare?”

I responded really quick like, didn’t even have to think. “It was fun and exciting but I was scared in the end. It was a hockey dream and I got hurt.”

“Fun, exciting and scary? Was it a nightmare Jasper? Your heart rate and brain activity during your first REM was highly accelerated during this dream. That would indicate to us that it was possibly a nightmare. You also started making verbal attempts during this dream. It came out sort of like ehh, ehh, ehh on several occasions.”

“Sure, sure … maybe it was a nightmare. I was talking huh?” I said.

“Yes, you were trying to talk and yes we believe that this dream could be classified as a nightmare. Tell me some more about the dream. Were you in the dream?” she quizzed again.

“Oh yeah, I was in the dream. You can bet your bippy I was.”

“And where were you?”

“I was in Paris. Paris, France. Everything in the background was like from a Monet painting. So yeah, I’m pretty sure it was Paris where I was at.”

Joan now asked, “Have you ever been to Paris, Jasper?”

“Nope. Canada and Mexico a few times each. And Texas, too, a whole bunch of times if that counts.”

“Mr. Wheats, try to stick to the questions or we’ll be here all day. OK? Now what was the dream about? Was it sexual? The recordings indicated that you were aroused during this dream.” What can you tell me?

“Aroused? Hah, I had boner, ehh? No shit? What do ya know. The Hon will appreciate knowing that I can still get some wood after my brain injury, ehh. Whacha think Joan? She’ll be happy, huh?”

I couldn’t believe I was talking this shit – must be the meds making me a smidgen uninhibited.

“Yes, Mr. Wheats. Those are the indications but I can’t speak for you wife. Now back to the dream please.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. I was playing hockey. You know, ice hockey. I was playing in a game in the NHL for the LA Kings. Over in France. We were playing against the Islanders. I remember that Butch Goring was coaching the Islanders with John Lennon and Mick Jaeger as his assistants. Crazy – they aren’t even bitched up in hockey like Goring is. And me. I’m playing defense with some French-Canadian dude that I couldn’t understand. But he looked just like Kurt Russell in Big Trouble in Little China. The movie, you know. My Dad was coaching the Kings and Rogie Vashon was our goalie coach. But he was all geared up and would jump up on the bench and jump up and down yelling at us in French and broken English. It was crazy but we were wearing our purple, black and white jerseys; but Rogie was in the old gold and purple uniform. He looked like one of those wind-up toy gorilla’s or monkey’s that spank cymbals together. You know?”

At this point she broke in and interrupted my recollection of the dream.

“Is ice hockey important to you, Jasper?”

“Oh, fuck yeah it is. Nothing but the best!”

“And these people in your dream, are they significant in some way to you?” she asked me.

“Well, my dad for sure is. And Kurt played the part of Herb Brooks, the Olympic hockey coach in that movie Miracle. And Butchie, he’s one of my all time favorite hockey heroes. And Rogie, well, my brothers named their dog after him when they were kids. Jaeger and Lennon – I don’t know about them. No real significance that I can think of. There’s other rock stars that I like better.”

This is kinda cool. I never remembered a dream with such vividness ever before. This cocktail that they shot me up with is something else.

Joan’s making her marks on the sheet and asks me “Do you feel that because your dad was the coach that this reflects his continued control over you?

Without a second of thought I snapped “Naw, ya gotta be friggin kiddin. He’s like a best bud. Been that way for years and years.”

“Ok, continue with what you remember of this dream.”

“Well, I’m still playing in the Paris hockey game, right. I don’t know who any of my other teammates are but we’re going about the business of playing. Skating, passing, shooting, getting in position, checking, getting checked. Being winded and being exhilarated. Resting on the bench. Yelling and getting yelled at. You know regular hockey stuff.”

“Jasper, were there people or fans watching the game? Did you see them?”

I had to think for a minute on that. “No, I don’t remember anybody watching us. I don’t remember looking into the stands at all. It was all on the ice. Inside the rink, you know.”

“Ok, continue”, she said.

“I get a shift with my partner and we seemed to be caught up in some turmoil deep in the opposing zone. All five of us are along my boards and the gloves are off. The Islanders are mixing it up with us. Right now I don’t know what started it but my feelings are that it was something I did. I got one guy holding me from behind with one arm around my neck; sort of in a chokehold. And some guy with fists the size of hams just pounding the shit outta my face. In between blows I can see the guy swinging on me is Keith Tkachuk. He skates for the Blues, not the Islanders. But what the fuck – it doesn’t seem to matter. Right? Ok, so I’m just getting absolutely plastered in Paris and I can’t get a punch in even sideways, ehh. This is the part of the dream that is both exciting and scary. Scary because nobody seems to be breaking up the donnybrook and I can’t even defend myself. This is pretty bad. I can feel every blow that lands on my face. I can taste the blood in my mouth and see it running through my eyes.”

She interrupts again, “So this was pretty violent at this point?”

“Well yes,” I respond, “but normally not in real life. Just exciting there. But here in the dream I can’t use my friggin arms. Right? So that’s what’s scary. Being incapacitated is scary but the fight is just normal old time hockey – no more violent that usual – but violent yes, I guess just the same if your not used to it.”

“At this point, reaching what you describe as the scary part”, she asks, “did the dream come to a conclusion? Did it end?”

“Shit no! Rogie jumped off the bench, skated over to the fracas and straight-arm slugged the bastard that was pounding me right in the back of his neck with his blocker, smacking his head right into the jerk holding me and they both dropped like a cow drops pies. I slipped out of the whole mess, picked up the puck skated toward the slot and threw into the Islanders’ net and we won the game. Completely illegal, but I won the game, shit for sure. That’s how the dream ended. Yup. What else do ya want to know?”

Joan was marking away on her clipboard, looked at her watch and said that I’d be coming out of the drug fairly soon and we’d have to end the session with just a study of the one dream.

“You were probably trying to talk in your sleep while you were getting beat up. I’ll give this report to the clinic’s doctors and they’ll make an evaluation. It looks like you might need some psychiatric help here, though. I’d say that you’re probably nuts Mr. Wheats, but I’m only a technician and, oh my goodness, I probably shouldn’t have told you that, I guess.”

Joan was surely disturbed over that faux pas. It didn’t bother me in the littlest little bit. I kinda appreciated the acknowledgement of my disposition, ehh.

So anyway, I’m waiting for the diagnosis from the docs and whatever follow-up might be required. Patience, they say is a virtue. I can wait. And the Hon is satisfied that I had this looked into. She’s not to worried about me being nuts – as far as she’s concerned I already was when I fell for her.

Jasper here, just walking with wood again, maybe.

Hockeyweenie 2008

For gosh sakes, its Halloween, and I haven’t done shit since I last wrote a tale the week after I got out of the hospital. I’m tellin ya, I’m being a real weenie. Don’t let anybody tell ya that a coma doesn’t just fuck ya up just real good. It has been the absolute shits, like you can’t believe.

So after I wrote the last little tale for ya, I passed out for about eighteen or nineteen hours. The Hon thought that I might a slipped right back into a coma again. Worried her somethin silly I guess. Ehh? Don’t blame her, whadja expect?

All in all, they say I’m getting better. I’ve got a lot of strength to regain though. My musculature just atrophied something horrible. I lost over forty pounds while I was in the deep sleep. I look like Ichabod Crane and aged something like Rip Van Winkle in those two months.

That little chunk of my skull lodged in my left temporal lobe and the doctors decided that it would be best to leave it there rather than cause more damage trying to remove it. They said that the swelling in the area went down about two weeks after I was hit by the puck.

Motor skills seem to be ok but I have a really hard time remembering the right words to use and the names of people. The Hon said that she had to edit my last story after I wrote it and before it got published on the internet. I guess she’ll have to continue to do this – don’t know if I’ll ever get my smarts back again.

The medical folks tell me that if I’d a had the same damage on the right side that it might have put a damper on my sex drive or the reverse made me less inhibited. Far as I can tell I’m still the same old horndog that I ever was – so they must know what they’re talking about.

One thing that the Hon and Wayno noticed right away was that I always was calling Wayno as Wayno instead of D-Pity like I had always had before. It’s weird, they say, cuz only his family and people that don’t know him real well call him by Wayno. Oh, I hope I get the hang of it again.

Like I said though, it’s Halloween and the kids’ll be out trick or treating tonight if the weather holds up ok. Could snow or something before the weekend’s over. The Hon picked up some candy in case anybody comes out this far out of town, but I mainly think she’s bought it for me.

I use a walker to get around cuz I’m still feeling so damn weak. A couple of months ago I was out playing hockey with the guys and now I’m just a fool hockeyweenie. I can spit a damn site further than I can kick shit right now. I’m telling you I’m so damn far from walking with wood this very moment that if ya lined up a thousand folks for a pickup game I’m sure I’d be the very last old pucker that’d get picked.

You guys, this really sucks.

And this cabin of ours – crap-a-ninnie. It sure is heck wasn’t designed for a friggin invalid. We’ve got some nice decorative switch plates on the walls for the lights and I fumble like crazy trying to just find the switch. And our swell furniture, if I sit down on the couch I don’t hardly have the strength to get back up. I’m always yelling for the Hon to help me.

Shit, she helped down into my new basement one day and we both decided that it would be easier to get back upstairs by going outside and traversing the hill rather than using the stairs. And then when I was down there I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t get the walker into my secret tunnel to the barn. Guess I won’t be attending any meetings of the Outlaws secret Crossed Sticks Society anytime soon, ehh.

Twistin and turnin in the house and down the hallway is just a pain in the ass. We’ve just got way too much shit that needs to be rearranged. The Hon says that I can do that when I get better. Damn she makes me mad! Then she says she’s just gonna leave things the way they are to motivate me.

Motivate me! My ass!

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Thank God she’s here though. I just about can do a fair job of wiping my own ass finally. But I still have to call her to help me get up off the crapper. It’s been kind embare-assing if ya know what I mean.

So, I’ve been veggin here at home in the cabin. Friends come by once in a while to check on me and try to keep me up todate. Bronzie and Stinky are running the team for me and Wayno, I mean D-Pity, comes by to watch games with me.

Sure glad it’s hockey season, ehh. The NHL has been putting games on two different channels this year, Versus and some new one on Comcast. But shit am I sick of watching the Flyers and Penguins play. It seems as though either one of those two teams are in two out of three games. My Favorite team the LA Kings have only been televised once so far in my neck of the woods. I guess I really had better quit complaining cuz beggars can’t be choosers.

Ehh?

Someone’s at the door and I can’t get my ass out a this chair. Probably a little Freddie Krueger or maybe Jason with his hockey mask on. Could be a George Bush or a little princess. Don’t know. The Hon’ll have to let me know.

You guys have a good time tonight, ehh!

Skate hard, stir the pot a little, and don’t get caught with your head down.

Jasper here, til next time.

(Oh, by the way – the Hon says this is just one damn depressing story – I better get better real damn quick and write something funny.)

ULTIMATE ROAD TRIP BREAKFAST

Oh what a great week it’s been! The sun has been out just a whole bunch and it makes ya think that spring might be around the corner. And ya know what that means ehh? Hockey Playoffs.

Yup, they’re just around the corner. I’d figure that most teams have got less then fifteen games to play this season. My Kings couldn’t wish it to last any longer. Sad, I gotta tell ya. But I’m a blue sky kinda guy and man, the only way’s “up” for them.

I’ve got the Caps versus Penguins game on the tube right now. Sidney Crosby and Alex Ovechkin in the same game. Yessirreee! This is some good shit this morning.

Fifteen or so games can change a lot of things. So can four rounds of playoffs. But I’m going to pick Detroit versus Montreal going into this year’s Stanley Cup Finals. What do you guys think?

Hey, what do you guys think of hockey fund raisers too? I like to help out with the local club team and we had our fund raising breakfast yesterday morning. Seems like just last week or so my Norris’ Nightmares had their fan appreciation weenie roast. I like to call the Nightmares kids, but they’re really young adults, you know. But the breakfast was for the rink’s club teams – Mites to Midgets. All are really good kids, with great parents supporting them and a good staff of coaches bringing them along. I pretty much expect every one of my Nightmares to participate by helping coach two to five practices a year with the rink club. Hell, that’s where their roots are, ehh. It actually helps them too, because they begin to think about the game from a different perspective.

As usual when I help out with these things I get put on the grille. I cook way better then I serve or cleanup I guess. Yo – Breakfast Chef Deluxe – that’s me. Ok, ok … greasy-spoon fry cook would be a more appropriate title. But I do a good job and enjoy it too. I’m flipping pancakes, scrambling eggs, crisping up bacon and turning sausage links like a dad-burn breakfast factory. And I didn’t hear a complaint from a single soul. Nope, not even any whiny kids today. Everybody chowed down like there was no tomorrow.

I got a chance to take a break around 10:00 when my good bud Jason showed up. He threw in some coin for about a hundred breakfasts or so I figure. Said he had just closed a big business deal and was feeling philanthropic for his home town community. He never played hockey, was a baseball and football dude through college, and now does his share of fine boarding out in the western states through the winter.

I was curious why he was in town and he let me know that it was really to follow up on some business with me. Earlier he had told me that he had a lead on some narrow box culvert precast concrete product that would work for my tunnel from the basement to the barn. Seems as though my price has dropped again because the plant needs the yard space that this stuff is taking up. It didn’t move last year and the plant has some sort of big contract for something else that they’re going to start producing and store until shipment starting in June. I could probably get what I need for the price of shipping alone.

Damn! I think that I just got myself one hell of a good deal. I’d need to take delivery by mid April so Stinky and me have got some work to do before then with finishing the excavation of the basement and trenching between it and the barn. Yup I hope the thaw is coming soon now.

Jason asked me if I could use a vault too. Said the plant also had a big old leftover vault setup with an HVAC unit to allow for underground occupancy. Said it was built for a phone company or something and I’d need a crane to offload it and set it in the ground. He said if nothing else you could put it in line with the box culvert and use the HVAC system as ventilation for the tunnel. He mentioned that I could look into writing off the crane cost as adding a tornado shelter to my property or something. I’ll have to look into that, I guess, but this is what I’m thinking … This is on the hush you guys (keep it a secret, ehh) I could maybe convert that vault into the new Crossed Sticks Society secret storage facility for all of our prized hockey antiquities and meetings. Hmmmm. Maybe. I’ll have to think about this and try to work something out with the Outlaws.

That’s just like Jason, being able to mix business with pleasure. Dude’s walking with wood for sure. And he sure mac’d on those pancakes and sausages I’d made. Between mouthfuls he says, “Jasper ya gotta see this stuff. It’s the greatest thing since spray cheese. The call it Batter Blaster. It’s pancake batter in a pressurized can like Redi-Whip. You just shoot it out on the griddle, no mess, no fuss. Damn you can really easy like make shapes, animals, spell things you know it’s really cool. And the dang things taste every bit as good as these ones you made.

You’ve gotta try it.

You know I’ve got that place out in Tahoe and I hate having to clean up and shit, would rather be out on the slopes, in the sack, or in the clubs right? Well I’ve been using this Batter Blaster all this winter for a quick hot breakfast before going out snowboarding. It’s great!”

“Your yanking my chain, ain’t ya?” I quizzed.

“Nope. Check out their website, www.batterblaster.com, when you get home. It’s for real. Some boys out in San Francisco came up with it. Supposed to be natural stuff too. I’m telling you, you’ll like it. Beats toaster waffles by a long shot.”

“Damn, it sounds like the ultimate road trip breakfast if it’s for real. I bet you could fix pancakes on the burner plate of those little coffee makers they put in the hotel rooms. This could really be the shit, ehh? Damn, maybe they’ll come up with a bacon shooter too, huh. Or maybe some sorta way to shoot mashed potatoes that could fry up crispy like hash-browns. Wouldn’t that just beat all, ehh Jason?”

“Wheats, you’re just nuts with your flamin imagination. You ought to be a fuckin inventor or something. You just take a good idea, dress it all up and make it better. You ever start up a company, I’m investing in ya. Can’t lose! What’s that ya say? Your walking with wood – you old fart!”

He finished his breakfast, made a mess as usual, talking between mouthfuls, and got syrup all over his signature orange t-shirt. Yep, that’s Jason – business with pleasure, eat and run. Probably won’t see him for a month or two, now, but sure glad he stopped by.

He’s the shit, walking with wood and all!

Wheats here until next time. Remember: Skate hard!

4 DAY WEEKEND

Apres Thanksgiving

Jasper here - just sittin around the fire, the honey and me, enjoying the end of a fine four day weekend. Our Thanksgiving was great, stuffed myself like a durn fool and crashed out way to early for a man of my young age. One of my nephews on my honey’s side of the family had us over where his wife and her mom put together one heck of a nice meal. Turkey, ham, spuds, dressing, beans, dinner rolls, pies and cookies with ice cream and wine. Could a had brews but no one else was drinkin them so I stuck with the beverage of the evening.

I collected a mess a deadfall during the summer - ya know just a random assortment of hardwoods and pines - and split it up for the winter nights. Feels purty good to have the heat from the fireplace warming your soul. Sure brings back so many great memories of sittin around the campfire, drinkin brews and shootin the shit on all those fishing trips with buds before I met my honey. Course her and me have done our share of some damn fine enjoyable camping together too. Just really like sitting by the fire as ya let it burn down to just coals before crashing and looking up at the stars and wondering about the immensity of our universe.

Speaking of that, have any of ya seen that new comet that exploded? I’ve spotted it twice so far. From my local at about 9:00 pm its maybe 10 to 15 degrees north and 5 to 10 degrees east of my zenith (that means directly overhead for you dim wits out there). It’s looks like a small circular cloudy spot fairly near a yellowish star. I read somewhere that after it exploded it became larger then our sun making it the largest celestial body in our solar system. Of course it is so damn far away right now that you’d never know it, ehh.

Pretty cool stuff, that astronomy and sky watchin. I keep hopin that I’ll get to see a flying saucer, maybe, before I die. I just know that there is other intelligent life out there. The Good Lord didn’t just create his kind here on this planet, I figure.

I remember one time I got so caught up in star gazing around a dying campfire that I munched up a whole box of cinnamon graham crackers all by my lonesome. I’ll tell you, you guys, that is not something that ya want to do when you’re out camping away from civil facilities. Damn if I didn’t get the worst case a the shits that I can ever remember. If ya don’t believe me then you go eat a whole family size bag of teddy grahams all by yourself and see what happens.

Hey, I just wanted to say “Hi!” to all my friends over at myspace.com. You’re all good puck heads, ehh! Dudes and dudettes just living for the best sport in the world …. hockey. You guys have gotta just keep on skating hard and walk with wood when ya can. Ok?

Some a ya are probably still wondering about the continued activities involved with those bones that were found while hand excavating my basement, ehh. The sheriff still has it cordoned off and they braced up the end wall of the cabin like he said they would. We haven’t moved out cuz most a the work they do is during daylight hours and me and the honey are away that time a the day anyway. We’re both still having our weird-ass dreams or nightmares though. Shit, them puppies might never stop happening.

The sheriff and the county have put a pretty strong case together so far against Mr. Oscar Pederson. I guess that they’re going to try to extradite him from Argentina with the help of federal authorities. I’m wondering if they would take me on as a short little lopsided sheriff’s deputy. If they’d bring me on board to bring him back in, tear him away from that little hoochie mama down there, and hold him in the local pokie here I’d just be bejiggered with joy to do it. Shit howdy! Maybe I could get in a little side trip to cast a fly for some a those trophy browns that they got down there around Patagonia. Wouldn’t that be something, ehh, you guys?

As I know more - I’ll tell ya more. No secrets and no bull shit here, ehh.

Thanksgiving is over and that means we’re on the home stretch to Christmas. I gotta tell ya I went out and did some shopping early Friday morning. Nah, I ain’t no fool spending all day doing early Christmas shopping. Just needed some things for myself. Saw that K-Mart had flannels on sale for six bucks. Shit ya can’t beat that, ehh. So I headed over at 6:00 am and got four extra-large ones before they sold out. Already, that early in the morning, what a nut house that place was. Yup, I figure that these guys are going to shrink after washing so I’m just going to wear them as dab-gone long as I can before that happens.

I’ve been thinkin about getting the honey some perfume for Christmas but that went to hell in a hand basket since Thanksgiving night. That night her sister gave her a whole stack of women’s magazines that she’s apparently got subscriptions to and every one of them fashion mag’s has got about five or six perfume ads with them foldover scent page doo-hickies. She just tore those right out and folded each page up and put it separately into individual baggies for future use.

Shit, she’s set for the year, ehh. Now what am I going to do? You guys got any ideas?

I always try to put something together for the county’s children’s center this time a the year. Doesn’t seem to be as many parentless kids over there as there used to be but I still like to do something for them for Christmas. This year I had, what I thought, was a heck of a good idea. I’d make them sock puppets. Shit, I figured, I’ve got just whole slew of old hockey socks that I could use and the honey could help me. So, the night before last, I dug em up. I had some Ranger’s, Bruins, Golden Seals, North Stars, Blues and no-name socks. We ran em through the washer to make sure they were nice and clean. Then we started trying to put them together. Crap, some of these old socks had stirrups but that wasn’t the worst of it. Ya know ya can’t make a decent sock puppet from an open ended sock! Cripes did I feel like one stupid shit. Guess I’ll either have to give these old socks to Stinky or use em as car rags.

Another Christmas idea down the drain, ehh. I’ll have to figure something else out to give these kids.

The fire’s going down, guess I’ll have to stoke it up cuz the night's still young.

Speakin of stokin-up, shit, who lit the fire under my LA Kings last night? They went and beat the San Jose Sharks 2 to 1. Nice! Very, very nice! Its been a while coming. I’d really like to see them turn this season around and quit hanging out in the cellar. And shit, how about that goalie that Gretz picked up from Anaheim for his Coyotes. I think he’s got four wins in a row now. And the Caps are maybe turning it around too as they’ve got two wins in a row for their new interim coach.

You know, I’d just like to see some things spin in the NHL once in a while

Back to the duties of a Thanksgiving four day weekend. I put up Christmas lights today. I got sap on me up to my damn earlobes. Used to be so easy to hang them lights on the house when we lived in town. Now you can’t hardly see the cabin from the road so we light up two trees that we got out at the end of the drive. They’re kinda nice shaped and all so they look real good when I get done, but holy mackerel if them pups weren’t just coated with fresh sap for some un-natural reason. And me too for a while. Had to use turpentine to get most of it off. But like I said these trees look awfully damn nice. Its sure helps that when I had them run power for the cabin that I had them put a 100 amp pedestal out along side the drive. I’ve had to use that for all sorts a shit and it works just fine when ya got ten strings of lights on each tree, ehh.

How about you guys? Did ya have a great Thanksgiving weekend? Keep up traditions from your past? Damn I hope so.

I really wanted to get in some holiday pond hockey like the old days. Just some sweet pickup - three on three would a been fine. But it’s been so mild though so far that we haven’t had a decent freeze - nothings frozen over yet and if this global warming crap is for real then maybe nothing will ever again. Who knows, ehh?

Alrighty, enough for this week. Appreciate all of ya that read this north woods humor that’s been spiced up a bit with hockey and other tidbits of wisdom that ya can … never …. take to the bank.

Keep the snow outta your boots by staying on the shoveled path! Walk with wood and skate hard!

ALRIGHT ALREADY

Good grief, there are so many stupid shits in this world! I can’t even believe it.

You know as well as I do that we set our clocks back last night. Its never made a bit a sense to me. The cows still need to get milked at the same time regardless of whether it’s day light savings time or not. They don’t have a clue, but I’ll tell ya that if ya forget to milk them at the right time they sure for shit will let ya know. And the damn rooster will crow around the crack of dawn every ding-dang day of the year. He doesn’t give a shit if its 6:00 am or 7:00 am or even if its 6:07 am. Doesn’t matter a little bit to him, ehh.

So we’ve been instructed to reset our clocks. Yup, we’re supposed to fall back. Well dad-burn if I didn’t fall back right on my ass. How about you?

The thing that cracks me up though are the excuses that I heard this morning at the Norris’ Nightmare’s practice. I had not one but three skaters show up over fifteen minutes late and all three of them used the excuse that they forgot to reset their clocks.

Give me a fuckin break!

Damn if ya forgot to reset your clock then ya should a been here an hour early, ehh. Where’d they leave their damn noodles at? I’m sure that they’re going to be right on time to watch the Colts vs. New England game ehh. Fuckin NFL. Its hockey season now - you guys have got to get your time schedules right on track or get off the train, ehh.

I ain’t got time for these excuses. Those guys did extra blue line drills and a shit load a pushups.

Damn they pissed me off.

And ya know that tonight for the Outlaws game we’ll have the same lame ass excuses from a couple a the guys. Course it won’t be the same anymore without Woody. He’s done moved on to the East Coast somewhere. We’ll miss him dearly, both on the ice and at the bar.

Sheeesh! Anybody been watching my LA Kings? A couple of times now I’ve seen them at the top of their division. Unfortunately they lost to the Sharks last night. It was a home and home split over Friday and Saturday nights. Damn they’d be a hot team if they could get their goals against down, ehh.

How’s you guys’ teams been doing?

Then there are those Staal brothers, ehh? I’ll tell ya that its gotta be some shit when they play against each other. I’m damn glad that during real competition that both a my brothers, Jingles and Bronzy, have always been on the same team with me. Of course I’ve played against both of them in pickup and practices -- and it wasn’t always nice. Bronzy split my lower lip completely in half once and Jingles checks like a high speed bulldozer - ouch! I gotta catch those games when the Staals go head to head. It’ll be some good stuff!

Shit, you guys, I don’t have much else to write about this week.

I gotta pack pretty soon to hop the train tomorrow morning for my real job. Its some good shit - pays the bills - and the people I work with are some good folks. They come from all over the place; like Thunder Bay, Omaha, Ohio, Indiana and even San Francisco. Hope the train is on time and it doesn’t run into anything. Crap in the last month, on the tracks by the cabin, the durn train has killed three people that were probably stoned out their minds and also clobbered a couple a cars. Scares me a little bit, ehh.

Hey you guys should try to send me some emails cuz after work there ain’t much to do and I could use the external contact while out of town. Talk to the honey a couple, three times a day but not much else going on ‘cept TV and reading until I hit the sack.

So alright already. You guys gotta skate hard and walk with wood!

Jasper here until next time.