gunnar stahl is my personal jesus.

For those that know me, even in a vague and bare sense, get that I am composed almost entirely of pop culture. Sure there’s blood and organs. But then there is Heathers and True Life marathons. Quoting Empire Records in everyday conversation and knowing such bits of information like “Johnny Depp plays slide guitar on the Oasis track ‘Fade-In Out.'” Like so many in my age bracket, there is a bit of an obsession with the Might Ducks trilogy. Specifically, the man and the legend; Gunnar Stahl. The Staal Bros. had to change the spelling of their name as not to infringe upon the greatness of Gunnar. Just look at this majestic mane of hair that Kris Letang tries to replicate;

I must confess I am THAT person who at hockey, during a lull, will yell FLYING V or KNUCKLEPUCK. These statements are only appreciated by a small percentage of those attending the game. I’ve snapped at goalies “get back in the pipes!” threatening to tie them to the posts like Greg Goldberg. I think the word “cake eater” needs to be part of the lexicon. The feminist in me loves the fact that the franchise had some rad chicks who relied on talent and not batting their eyelashes to get the job done.

Oh look. A grown up Gunnar Stahl. Real talk time; how many of you would still hit it?

The world needs another hockey movie. And one where alcoholism isn’t a major plot point. My dream day hockey movie would have a script written by super team of awesomeness; Tina Fey, Mindy Kaling, Kevin Smith, Joss Whedon and Seth Rogen. The cast would have any of the following peeps (get ready to IMDB); Tina and Mindy, Jenna Fischer, Jim Krasinski, Rose McGowan, Lindsay Lohan, Paul Rudd, Kat Dennings, Henry Rollins, Emma Stone, Monica Keena, Ethan Embry, Aisha Tyler and maybe if he is available and done being lame; John Cusack. Essentially, it needs to be a crew of hilariousness with the ability to improv, deliver one liners and provide hours of dvd extras.

Also, no one from the Twilight franchise is allowed to be involved. But the hotties from the new Star Trek are welcome to audition.

Seth Rogen is a package deal because he can come with Judd Apatow, Jay Baruchel, Jason Segel, Jonah Hill, Romany Malco, Jane Lynch etc.  The writers, well Smith at least gets hockey, and the ladies wouldn’t let it all melt into a boys club. Picking a director is picky. See this hockey movie in my head is a mostly light hearted comedy, so perhaps the dude who directed Juno, home skillet. And then Quentin Tarantino can come in and direct one scene or something. But the best fit is Jay Chandrasenkar. Final answer.

This is what I do during the day. I cast non existent movies. And sometimes, when I am extra crazy, I plan out a soundtrack too.

the one where I hate on something everyone else loves.

I think an apt title for this post is Sex Drugs and Cocoa Puffs Hockey Pucks. Also, this post is totally long.

Fake love is a very powerful thing. That girl who adored John Cusack once had the opportunity to speand a weekend with me in New York at the Waldorf-Astoria, but elected to fly to Portland instead to see the first U.S appearance by Coldplay, a British pop group whose success derives from their ability to write melodramatic alt-rock songs about fake love…. None of that matters. What matters is that Coldplay manufactures fake love as frenetically as the Ford fucking Motor Company manufactures Mustangs, and that’s all this woman heard. “For you I bleed myself dry,” sang their blockhead vocalist, brilliantly informing us that the stars in the sky are in fact, yellow. How am I going to compete with that shit?

-Chuck Klosterman. This is Emo. Sex Drugs and Cocoa Puffs.

This isn’t working for me. While I think visually, it’s well assemble the song selection is pretty much atrocious. And before you think it’s because I hate Coldplay, hold tight. The song comes off the one Coldplay album I will admit to actually liking it and it’s in my itunes. And I even BOUGHT the album, so suck it. Anyway, I take issue with the fact that the lyrics for the idea of this video are a bad move and Coldplay just isn’t working.

The gist of the song is it’s about a dude, let’s call him Chris Martin. Anyway, he is basically a really terrible friend/lover/comrade etc. And he has to show up all the time and tell everyone he is sorry because he is a bad person. We don’t know how he is bad. But based on the over tones and themes of A Rush of Blood to the Head I would assume he is of the distant, emotionally unattached variety. In other words, he is someone I’ve probably dated.

And he is involved with someone just like him most likely (The Politik) where he asks for the lady, hey let’s call her Gwen “to give me real/ don’t give me fake” and “give me strength/reserve control/give me heart and give me soul.” There is some sort of tension or difficulties in the relationship because neither party seems to know entirely the direction; (God Put a Smile Upon Your Face), “now when you work it out I’m worse than you…” and “where do we go nobody knows…” With The Scientist there is a need to go back to the beginning of the relationship, apologize and start over. I still maintain Chris was probably a bit of a prick to Gwen, who is not innocent either. And in Clocks? Chris is saying sorry all over again. He is “begging and pleading” and going on about how “nothing else compares” and is whining on and on about “home…where I wanted to belong.”

It’s not all entirely gloom and doom. On Daylight, Chris goes on about how rad the sunrise is. Nothing really that profound can be drawn from that. Unless the constant allusion to light and dark on the album have to do with birth and death and good and evil. So if anything, perhaps this song just continues the trend, but a bit more upbeat. Same with the track Green Eyes. Even though Chris and Gwen’s relationship is probably average and boring like everyone else, he recognizes that there is something in her that makes him a bit stable even though he is imperfect. Together, the two flawed beings makes an ok pair.

But then it all turns again and we are back to the whining and moping and pining with Warning Sign. Chris is missing Gwen! His mind and eyes decide to wander and he “looks for excuses” and he just needs to tell her “what a state he is in, in my loudest tones.” Which I assume means he is having drunk regret and will resort to talking loudly about how he misses youuuuuu and he is tiredddddd and he shouldn’t have let you goooooooo. Then that brings us to A Whisper where there is whining and moping and pining. Man where have I heard that before. There are more lyrics relating to light and dark and Chris talks about clocks and is missing Gwen some more.

The title track is about intentional destruction in order to build something great. To force a phoenix from the ashes rebirth. Which I suppose works since the Pens did tank for a few years to load up on some top talent. Now Chris goes from being all emotional to “buying and gun and starting a war.” Hold on, brodawg, we don’t need weapons. I am just talking here. And really dude, you are kinda a downer. Like how are you so sad when you are a millionaire? But it’s cool now you recognize all those mistakes you made and you want to try again and start over. But you are essentially blaming this all on a brain freeze.

The closing track is probably the darkest of the album with Chris going on about how he wants to die or probably will and there is a noose involved. He’s has some ball of chain and he feels like he is fading. We know it’s a melodramatic song because there is a piano. And a choir. He end with about “being cut loose” but it’s unknown whether it’s finding salvation in the love of another or if the being loose is the freedom of death.

If you managed to get through all that and take me semi seriously, thanks. But really, Coldplay is just not hockey music. This whole album is a thread on not having one’s self together. Not to mention it totally lacks the swagger and bravado I find necessary for something as brutal and wonderful that is hockey.

It’s perhaps for the better I don’t run things because I know better than to just unleash my music for the masses. But there is just something in me that freaks out over song abuse like this. Like in The OC when Marissa shoots what’s his face and then Imogen Heap’s Hide and Seek starts playing. And it’s the most unintentionally hilarious thing ever. I have fits when songs like You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling is played at weddings. And yes that has happened on more than one occasion. Even at eight years old I knew what irony was.

and then they made me their chief.

Watching the playoffs I have heard the grumbles of the Blackhawks using Chelsea Dagger as their goal song. It’s a really good track but as a goal celebration it just seems a bit odd. I know some teams like to keep it fresh and switch it up, but for the most part I think if the right song is picked it should never change. And it can’t be something annoying. Whenever someone complains that the Habs are bit too noisy and irritating with their horn, I wonder if they know how I roll in Spokane;

That’s the Italian Tarantella. It’s a bit loud and such. And if the Chiefs decided to change it up, I’d probably cry. Fans would riot and revolt because it’s just part of the Chiefs tradition. Teams constantly changing or sprucing up the goal songs just make me think of those Real Housewives addicted to plastic surgery and getting Botox shot into their face. There is a desperation to appearing youthful and hip. Why not keep the song and let it age with the team. In this day and of rental players and blockbuster moves, the only constant seems to be the goal song. I am scared the minute I buy a jersey, a player will be traded. For a lot of fans the goal song feels like home. There are some songs that people are insane for. Uhm, Brass Bonanza anyone?

Also just because this is another reason why I love junior hockey; The Teddy Bear Toss! I’d love to see the NHL do this. Let’s see how many bears we can get donated to area children’s hospitals.

Mikeeeee Reddington assisted by LEVKOOOOOOO KOPERRRRRRR.

Adventures in programming.

Since the playoffs are taking place (ON VERSUS!!!!1) the ads and promotions for both The Hangover and Fanarchy. First, The Hangover looks amazing and Zach Galafinakis is all sorts of awesome, please believe. But it’s the Fanarchy is worrisome. The idea is a bunch of people arguing over webcams about sports. Which probably would have worked in like 2002 when TRL was still existent and relevant.

The previews look like the show will be framed on stereotypes of certain sports fans. At least the promos have Massholes. You know I have never been to Boston, so my knowledge of the people there is based mostly on Jimmy Fallon’s tenure on SNL. DUDE! It was like the late 90s and he was a hottie then, ok? So back off. But yeah he would wear a Red Sox jersey and yell NOMARRRRRR! and tack on “wicked pissah” to sentences. Now, call me crazy, but don’t people generally get mad about stereotype and assumptions? I get irked when people assume that my Pacific Northwest status means I wear flannel and listen to Nirvana. Negative, ghostrider.

Who am I kidding. It’s only a matter of time until I am whoring myself out to Versus and Fanarchy for page views.

I’m only here for the cake.

As a chick, it’s pretty much programmed into my brain to be a bridezilla. I mean, have you been the movies lately? Man, I am supposed to be materialistic, psychotic and generally uncivilized. And I am supposed to ruin my best friend’s life in the process and make my husband elect want to skip town on the day of the blessed affair. Seriously, being that much of a headache is sooooo taxing. I mean, I still have to find time for tanning, manicures and pedicures, picking out ugly dresses for the bridesmaids. What’s a girl to do? Anyway, out of boredom I google image searched “hockey wedding.” And this came up;

she does disdain well.

she does disdain well.

Ok first they need real skates. And not figure skates. And the groom needs a goalie mask I think. And where are the team colors? Blasphemy. It’s called team pride.

You’re right, it will probably be the cake topper for my fake wedding I’m planning. Fingers crossed I end up on one of the wedding reality shows. I’ll be the one shrieking about a custom 8,000 dollar gown with the Chiefs logo and throwing a hissy fit because I want to walk down the aisle to Welcome to the Jungle. Because that opening is just killer.

I’m such a hypocrite.

Oh god no please make it stop.

you stop it.

you stop it.

This hat looks like a watermelon. In addition, it also has scratch and sniff technology. I will repeat that last sentence in case you skipped over it. IT IS A SCRATCH AND SNIFF HAT OK? I am worried the NHL will see this and decide they need this merch as well. Soon there will be scratch and sniff pink glitter jerseys that smell like hockey sweat and they will retail for 158 dollars. And broads will buy them and I will once again get on my soapbox and deliver and somewhat feminist rant. I feel a headache coming on. Oi vey. I’m gonna go sit down now.

P.S, I hate the Yankees. Alex Rodriguez may or may not be a slack jawed junk slut.

great moments in cinema;

I think this is one of the most realistic hockey scenes in a movie. Or even a realistic movie scene in general. As a sorta gamer, I’ve been there. When I lived in a dorm a friend of mine often skipped class and could be found playing Halo in his too small dorm room he shared with a roommate who quite possibly only showered once per week. His roommate sat in the tiny corner by the window on some ancient computer playing World of Warcraft. I’d come to the dorm with my own Xbox controller that I put sparkly gems on and a liter of Dr Pepper because I was in it to win it. The door was often left open because it was those kind of dorm floors. One dude upon seeing me playing Halo and screaming obscenities and wearing a Penny Arcade shirt got down on one knee and proposed to me on the spot with his class ring.

I remember the boys arguing about who was going downstairs to meet the pizza guy. I never had to worry about this argument because I was the one girl there and they paid for my cheesy bread. Which in retrospect was fucking terrible. But I am never one to complain about free eats. I had quite the Halo Rage. Though it wasn’t as bad as my friend who was about 5’8 and a buck forty soaking wet. He broke numerous controllers and snapped 2 of 6 legs off a rolling office chair. He was the only one who sat in it because he knew how to balance in it just right. He also kept a wiffle ball bat in the closet in case a person ever wanted to smack the walls because they were made of brick. I learned to not punch the walls but pillows instead. And it’s best to slam my controller into the bed which served as a couch and not the floor. Also, just because something is wireless doesn’t mean it needs to be thrown.

And the Plasma Swords are still my favorite.

Great Moments in Hockey Sweaters;

I am fascinated with celebrities in hockey jerseys. Mainly because you are more likely to see a celeb in a baesball cap; Sox or Yankees, than a hockey stuff. Two years ago on the bus, on the way to uni, I remember seeing a dude. Pale, skinny, nerdy. I recognize my own kind. But his shirt. His shirt was a picture of Ghostface Killah (my favorite Wu Tang Clan member) in Canucks gear (my then favorite team). Unreal. I remember telling him “nice shirt!” but he scrunched his face at me. ‘Scuse me, but if a cute chick compliments you, please make the effort to mumble a thanks. And I have never been able to find that pic of Ghost. However a few weeks ago I did find this picture of him;

wu tang clan ain't nothing to fuck with...

wu tang clan ain't nothing to fuck with...

Mannnnnn. I wanna just hang with Ghostface aka Tony Starks and eat Chinese food and talk about how rad Robert Downey Jr was as Iron Man. And just for kicks, I’d be like “Yo Ghost, you wanna catch a hockey game?” “Killah Beez! Yeah I’mma call Raekwon and Method Man too. Aight?” And then at the game he’d buy me Dippin’ Dots and a Dr Pepper. Swoon.

gender politics in hockey;

Occasionally I do actually write about semi serious topics. Hard to believe but true. The other night tiredness and general annoyance led me to write a bit how it’s time for attitudes to change when criticizing players. And not doing it in a way that means slagging on women. You can read the post here. I was blown away that BKBlades took the time to leave this comment that was much longer than my post. Enjoy the comment below;

I was wondering when you were going to post this and your thoughts about feminizing athletes as a derogatory term. Admittedly, I have been guilty of using the aforementioned slang word for kitty cat when I’ve played competitive sports or got into a major testosterone disagreement with someone in the past. I like to think it wasn’t often, but nevertheless, I am not innocent or naive to the all too frequent use of these terms in sports, or otherwise. As you know, this isn’t a hockey epidemic. This permeates all sports at every level. I’m certainly not going to defend or condone this behaviour, but I do understand how deep and ingrained this has gone in sports. Sports publicly recognizing the presence of females is a modern occurrence. Sports was and in many ways still is a male oriented and dominated area. Fairly or not, sports has been used as a rite of passage, an identification, many times a tool/resource for gender role classification. All the traits that people look up to and worship in our best athletes remain the same throughout the years: hard-working, talented, strong, courageous, impervious to pain, overcoming some sort of adversity. Along those lines, masculinity has been tied to these “ideal” traits.

Sports is a convenient, easily accessible area in life where people can grow up, emulating many athletes and pointing out, “That’s what a man should be.” It’s likely the reason why we disdain and deride athletes that are perceived to be lazy, weak, shies away from adversity or risk, and complains. They’re all traits people don’t want to be associated with athletes because we hold them to ridiculously high standards. Rightly or wrongly, as we use athletes as role models, it’s always the extreme – be the hard-working, salt of the earth third line captains and not those unmotivated floaters who aren’t utilizing all their talents. When we move into the realm of extremes, we “cheat” with our language, too. Wimp, weak, scared, etc. all get melded into singular words either for convenience or maximum effect. Has some of those terms unfairly and inaccurately been used to describe women? Yes. But the connotations to those words aren’t strictly for the purposes of degrading women and automatically thinking men are superior to women (of course, there are sadly many exceptions to my generalization), but rather, identifying what types of people, specifically, males that we want to ultimately hold up to our imaginary pedestal of the so-called perfect man.

Until the onset of feminism, females were often not seen in the same light. And many, males and females, are still coming to grips, I think, when they see great female athletes matching and often surpassing standards originally set out for men only. Unfortunately, it’s going to take time to change a culture that’s so used to using sports as a metaphor for the best qualities of the male gender. But most definitely hold people to the highest standards. It’s the only way we can change.

I wish I could hate you to death.

The world is a depressing place. The economy is beyond collapsing and the corporate executives are getting bonuses and bailouts for putting us all in this mess and the banks are being regrouped and renamed on the daily. There’s the fight for gay rights and the media fervor over the Octomom. Hockey fans may argue about visors and fighting. But we can all be united under the fact that Pierre McGuire is the worst part about hockey. People worry about kids emulating hockey fights. Nay! They should be worried about the violence that McGuire’s voice can incite.

We must band together and stop Pierre McGuire. And I have an idea on how we can do this. McGuire would make some public statement about how unkind the bloggers are and he would never retire from commentating (did I just invent a verb?) unless he was paid. I would counter with, “don’t you make enough money now? how about if in X number of days, if we can raise Y number of dollars for charity, you shut your yap and get off my television, forever? It’s for the children.” And he would have to accept the challenge, otherwise he would seem like a supreme douche who hates sick kids. Also, this would benefit the bloggers because we could show the world we are proactive (not the face medicine) and can get shit done.

Also I challenge anyone to explain why McGuire isn’t that awful and to counter with someone worse than him.