Got a question? You can ask Lee Stempniak! Email your question to loserdomi@gmail.com with the subject “Ask Lee Stempniak”
(Lee Stempniak, stolen from NHL.com)
LEE STEMPNIAK: Hi folks, and welcome to “Ask Lee Stempniak.” Today I have with me two very special friendsand fellow Maple Leafs players, John Mitchell and Jamal Mayers.
JOHN MITCHELL: Where are your Hot Pockets and beer, ya cheap bastard?
JAMAL MAYERS: We were told that if we hung out with you, we’d each get 20 dollars and all the beer and HotPockets we wanted.
STEMPNIAK: (sighs) Hot Pockets are in the freezer, beer is in the fridge. Now, onto our first question (MITCHELL leaves)
MITCHELL: (from kitchen) Jamal, what kind of Hot Pockets do you want?
MAYERS: What kind does he have?
MITCHELL: He’s got all kinds.
MAYERS: Uh...just surprise me. And get me a beer while you’re there.
MITCHELL: OK! STEMPNIAK: Anyway, our first question comes to us from Heather in Spokane, Washington. She asks, “Dear Lee Stempniak, at what age did your superpower of invisibility emerge?” Well, Heather, the summer I was 12, there was some movie I really wanted to see, but my mom said was too violent. I was so mad, I ran away from home. I hitchhiked 20 miles away from home, and come suppertime, I missed my mom and the movie wasn’t so important. I got home and my mom said “Oh, you were outside?” And I said “Well, yeah, I was 20 miles away.” She said “Oh, I didn’t even notice.” I don’t know where it came from, but it just happens. (MITCHELL returns with two Hot Pockets and two beers)
MITCHELL: Here ya go, Jamal.
MAYERS: Thanks!
STEMPNIAK: Heh, what, none for me? Heh, heh.
MITCHELL: What? I only got two hands. And it’s your house, anyway.
MAYERS: Oh wow! This is some sort of white sauce and chicken thingy!
STEMPNIAK: Oh, is that a problem?
MAYERS: No, it’s really good. It’s just that I was expecting pepperoni or something like that. This is the classiest Hot Pocket I’ve ever eaten.
MITCHELL: These are like the Rolls Royce of Hot Pockets!
MAYERS: I should be wearing a tie and holding out my pinkie finger to eat this.
STEMPNIAK: So, onto our next question. Mike in New York asks “Dear Lee Stempniak, do you believe in life after love?” Well Mike, I do, but only with heavy use of Auto-Tune and vocorders.
MAYERS: Hey, I got a question for you: why is it the black guy always dies first in horror movies?
STEMPNIAK: Oh, that is a good one.
MITCHELL: Maybe it’s symbolic of the way that the old Hollywood guard pays minimal lip service to the ideas ofdiversity and multiculturalism while at the same time maintaining the status quo of the while male hegemony.
MAYERS: Wow, really?
MITCHELL: (snorts) Fuck, I don’t fuckin’ know.
STEMPNIAK: But that’s not always true. It’s not always the black guy who dies first. What about alien movies,where there’s some invasion? There’s a crash late at night and some lone security guard investigates it.
MAYERS: SO?
STEMPNIAK: So, he gets eaten before the first credits. And have you ever seen them use a black security guard?
MAYERS: Well, no. I guess you’re right.
STEMPNIAK: And it looks like that’s all the time we have for this edition of “Ask Lee Stempniak.” Thanks for watching!
MAYERS: Can we go now?
MITCHELL: Do you have our 20 dollars?
STEMPNIAK: Yes to both of those questions. (STEMPNIAK pays MITCHELL and MAYERS who each take another box of Hot Pockets from the freezer as they leave.)
STEMPNIAK: (sighs, starts petting toy cat) Well Buttons, it looks like it’s just you and me once again.
5 Comments:
“Dear Lee Stempniak, do you believe in life after love?” Well Mike, I do, but only with heavy use of Auto-Tune and vocorders.
With the heavy use of lazers and disco balls to distract the eyes.
Wait, are you saying Stempniak is the hockey version of Invisiboy?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzWN4v2Ck0s
Well, that's cool. As long as he keeps his shorts on.
Buttons the Toy Cat! Stempniak is an adult Calvin! Where's Hobbes!?
Zack: yes, disco balls make everything better.
kidkawartha: Fie! I need to check out that link when I have better interwebs
BTD: No way is Stempniak as cool as Calvin. No. WAY.
You know, you keep writing things like this for Stempniak, I'm going to start feeling sorry for him. Then slowly, I'm going to start silently rooting for him. Then I'm going to start cheering for him. Then I'm going to start buying Stempniak paraphernalia. Then I'm going to start writing letters to him. Then I'm going to start stalking him. Then I'm going to start getting arrested and charged. Then I'm going to start rocking back and forth in the corner of my 4x4 cell, muttering "sTemniak" over and over again, stroking that lock of hair I managed to collect from his garbage can.
So you see, nothing good can come out of these Stempniak fictions.
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