(SCENE: TOMAS KABERLE is sitting alone in a very dreary room)
KABERLE: Man, I have never felt so alone. I wonder if what the boys say is true…
(KABERLE takes out mirror)
KABERLE: Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark. (WENDEL CLARK appears in the room with KABERLE)
CLARK: What the? You better have a damn good reason for calling me! I just got in my Leafs jammies and was about to go to bed!
KABERLE: Aren’t you going to punch all of my blood out? Could you do that please?
CLARK: I’ve seen you play and you have great skills. Why would you want me to punch out your blood?
KABERLE: I just…I can’t take the pressure of the Leafs anymore. I lost whatever you call it…
CLARK: What? Pep? Oomph? Awesomeness?
CLARK: Look, normally I’d just punch you out and leave, but since I’ve seen you on the TV and stuff and I know you got good things to come, I’ll show you what could happen if you leave now.
KABERLE: You can do that?
(Somehow—Magicalness FTW—CLARK And KABERLE are transported to what appears to be a funeral attended by the Leafs. Nobody notices this sudden appearance)
KABERLE: How did that happen? Where are we?
CLARK: Well, obviously magic.
KABERLE: But there’s no such thing as magic!
CLARK: Shush! It’s not polite to talk during a funeral!
KABERLE: Is this…MY… funeral? But why did we get here just at the end?
CLARK: Look, I can only do so much, You didn’t want to be here for the WHOLE sobfest didya?
KUBINA: I can’t believe Kabs is just…GONE
WHITE: God, I know. And it was so weird how he died.
KUBINA: Did they say what it was?
WHITE: Nobody can figure it out—the rumour is that they found him on his kitchen floor with all of his blood knocked out, like, with a punch or something. But no one ever found any weapons or anything.
KUBINA:Oh man, that’s terrible.
SCHENN: It sounds like that Mexican lizard thingy, whatchacallit...that sucks the blood out of goats? Chupacabra?
WHITE: But we’re in Toronto. Isn’t that a bit far north for a Mexican lizard thingy?
KUBINA: You never know, with global warming and stuff.
KABERLE: This is so depressing
CLARK: Well, it IS a funeral after all
KABERLE: I meant the chupacabra discussions. Gah, look at Matt Stajan. He’s crying more than my wife is
STAJAN: Kabby was just...SO YOUNG! (sobbing)
KABERLE: Man, I thought I was depressed before, this is just disturbing
CLARK: What do you mean?
KABERLE: Matt Stajan always seemed so happy go lucky and optimistic
CLARK:Then you should see what happens after this (CLARK transports KABERLE to just outside of STAJAN’s window. STAJAN is lying on his couch unshaven and in pyjamas with empty bottles of orange juice and vodka on the floor, with crumpled up tissues everywhere. STAJAN’s girlfriend KATIE enters)
KATIE: Matt, honey, are you ok?
KATIE: I mean, all you’ve done for three days is cry, drink, and watch Family Guy.
KATIE: It’s as if you’re some sort of zombie. I’m worried.
STAJAN: EhhHHHHHHHHNNNNNnnnnn...I need more orange juice
KABERLE: So after I die, Matty becomes some sad drunk?
CLARK: Well, you see, he was pretty shaken up at Wellwood being on waivers. Then Carlo and Steen got traded. Just when he was almost over that you died. Now, a trade is easier to get over since they may get traded back, but a death is mighty hard to get over. It just broke him and his bedroom eyes.
KATIE: Matty, please don’t tell me you’re doing a Wellwood
STAJAN: There’s not enough food and coffee and food in North America for two Wellwoods...WELLY! (starts sobbing again)
KABERLE: I hate seeing him like this.
CLARK: Oh that’s nothing compared to other people on the team
Be sure to tune in next for another installment of "It's a Wendelful Life!"
Friday, January 30, 2009
Today's' theme is lousy bums, since there is no denying I am one.
clip one: MC LArs, "Hipster Girl". My school is slowly getting invaded by these types and it worries me:
clip two: Ryan Hollweg Dancing. You know, after lots of Captain Morgan, when Daft Punk is played, I dance like Hollweg (except I'm not athletic enough to do the cartwheel)
clip three: picture version of "I'm an Asshole" by Denis Leary, since the orginal has embedding disabled
Monday, January 26, 2009
SO Domiteers, the play I'm in is on again tomorrow night. Afterwards, in a proud drama tradition, there will be much boozing. I also have several assignments due. Long story short--I doubt I can get anything up on either BMR or my own site until about Thursday or friday. I may throw up some LOLaction, but I make no promises. Sorry guys.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
For today's edition of the YouTube Yoinkage I took inspiration from clip one, which was posted by Wrap Around Curl at a PPP gamethread. this week, I post crazy fan song tributes to players
Clip one: A tribute to Maxime Talbot to "Womanizer"
clip two: A Colby Armstrong tribute to "crank that" Soulja boy!
clip three: A parody tribute to Henrik Zetterberg to "remix: ignition:
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Do not start with me, you will not win.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
It seems a certain someone has challenged me to a battle for LOLeafs supremacy. You're going down, Jared!.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Today, I have decided to dedicate FYY to three videos that have formed the comedic background of not only my writing, but the whole Barilkosphere.
clip one: Vesa toskala has some clohs he laaikes a LOT
clip two: Nik Antropov and Alexei Ponikarovsky are like the new odd couple, only with Russian accents and cheesbourgers
clip three: BACON YADA!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Well, it's cold outside, which means I'm inside more which means more nubbin rubbins to stay warm. That's right--it's high time once again for more actual search terms that have landed people at the WWoLD.
Cock inside female’s shoes (I'm sure there's a site for that, but this isn't it)
How big cock Sidney Crosby have (Finnish search--I'm wondering if metric or standard measurements make a difference)
Small white cocks loser compare (just chew on that a bit) (Sorry Chemmy)
Internet haunted budd dwyer (oh no! it's the ghost of Budd Dwyer! Here to shoot himself again!)
Womens shoes wrap around cocks (those must be skinny shoes)
La chatte de domie moore (A French search, by the way chatte ~pussy, so...Demi moore's pussy?)
scat chat Toronto ("long time listener, first time caller...")
Brodeur pie (I hear there are some good Brodeur pies for sale in Montreal)
Kyle Wellwood homosexual (well,I'm not saying anything, but if he does affirm it, you heard it here first)
Matt stajan nude (get out of my head)
why do I hear the word loser on my computer sometimes (dude, if your computer is talking to you, you have some serious problems)
We play on Tuesday alex bizzaro blogspot (this is so wierd, I can't even come up with a joke for it)
Sunday, January 11, 2009
***Welcome to the official chat room of the Toronto Maple Leafs***
PoniRides4aBuck: hey guys, check out this thing Antro sents me
StajanNotCajan:oh man, is it another cat picture?
PoniRides4aBuck: no, is interwebs story. If you says “wendel clark “ 5 times into mirror, he comes and punchs in all your bloods!
ShakeNBlake: don’t you mean punch OUT your blood?
PoniRides4aBuck: whatevers is awesome
ShakeNBlake: That’s ridiculous. It’s idiotic. I AM A 40 GOAL SCORER!
StajanNotCajan:well, let’s get a rookie to test it out.
***Son_of_a_mitch has entered the chat room***
Son_of_a_mitch: ‘sup fuckers?
StajanNotCajan: hey Mitch, you got a mirror?
Son_of_a_mitch: yeah, why?
PoniRides4aBuck: Look in it and says Wendel Clark 5 times
Son_of_a_mitch: Wendel Clark 5 times
StajanNotCajan: No man, say the words “Wendel Clark” 5 different times while looking at the mirror
Son_of_a_mitch: Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark.
***Crunchin_Clark has appaeared in John Mitchell’s place***
Son_of_a_mitch: HOLY FUCK
Crunchin_clark: What the? Did you summon me? I was just about to fall asleep! What’s wrong with you?
*** Crunchin_clark has started punching out Son_of_a_mitch’s blood***
Son_of_a_mitch: AHHH!! FUCK!! OW OF FUCK I WANNA FUCKIN LIVE AHHHH!! He…he fuckin punched out all my fucking blood!! FUCK! Call ambulance
ShakeNBlake: I call bullshit
StajanNotCajan: Why would he bother to type out the screams?
StajanNotCajan: /takes out compact
StajanNotCajan: Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark
*** Crunchin_clark has appeared in StajanNotCajan’s place***
StajanNotCajan: AHHHH! OH NOES! Will you punch out all my blood?
Crunchin_clark: Oh don’t worry—I couldn’t punch you out. Punching you would be like punching a puppy. Don’t worry little guy—you just keep watching your cartoons and eating cookies.
ShakeNBlake: /takes out mirror
ShakeNBlake: Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark
***Crunchin_clark has left StajanNotCajan’s place and appeared at ShakeNBlake***
StajanNotCajan: Where did Wendel go? Why are my pants….? Oh dammit, did I wet myself in front of Wendel Clark?
Crunchin_clark: Why does this keep happening to me?
Crunchin_clark: /starts punching ShakeNBlake
ShakeNBlake:AHHH! OOOOWWWWWOOWWWOOWOWOWOWOW!! OH GODS! Ah…he…HE PUNCHED ALL MY CANCER OUT! I AM A 40 GOAL SCORER! I still need an ambulance…
***Welcome to Patrick Roy’s lair somewhere in the wilderness of Quebec***
King_wa: hokay, time to checkay les emails…penis enlargements, delete…."you want to makes your partner tremble?”, delete…what’s dis?” Say Wendel Clark 5 times and he comes and punches out all your blood”? Tout le sang? Bullshit
King_wa:/takes out mirror
King_wa: Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark, Wendel Clark
*** Crunchin_clark has appeared in king_wa’s Quebec lair***
Crunchin_clark: GODDAM INTERNET!
Crunchin_clark:/ punches out king_wa’s blood
King_wa: WENDEL CLARK A PUNCHÉ TOUT MON SANG!
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
First FYY of the year! This time I have decided to do a tribute to Matt "fuck me eyes" Stajan, just to make up for having him throw up on my shoes. Now, some of these I only previewed without sounds, so I apologize for any crappy quality
Clip one: Matt Stajan and Wendel Clark teach some little kids about hockey (link embedding is disabled, which is lame sauce)
clip two: Matt Stajan invites you to
his house ACC for some event. Please, won't you come and enjoy some nice champagne with him?
clip three: You brute! You BRUTE! Oh Gods, not in the face, that's where I make my living!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
I thought I'd do something a little different today and parody one of those motivational posters you see all the time. I picked Mitchell because I remember one game where, while looking at the camera, dropped about 10 F-bombs in a row. (picture I use is originally from here)
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Because I couldn't wait until tomorrow:
You thought I was done, didn't you? Once again, I rewrite typical gushy fanfic from the player's perspective. Today I tackle the one and only Captain Fuck me Eyes, Sock kicking Matt Stajan
I hate road trips, I really do. Some guys really like the whole camaraderie and stuff, but somehow I always get the guy who snores like a freight train, totally eschews pants, or screams in his sleep. You know who you are.
Anyway, there was one time where we played Montreal and then went south to Boston. Now, playing just one of them is usually bad enough, but both of them at once is like a double team of “make Matty cry into his coco puffs.” Coach thought it’d be a good idea if instead of the normal flight we went from Montreal to Boston via bus for “team bonding.” Apparently, he thinks that “team bonding” means losing lots of money in poker and taping rookies to stuff. This one time, I taped Luke Schenn’s eyes shut and he freaked out for like 20 minutes yelling “AHHH! I’M BLIND! I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL NEVER MASTURBATE AGAIN!” That was pretty funny.
Anyway, the bus broke down while we were still in Quebec. After some really angry French between the driver and a mechanic, a few of us decided to see what was around this town. It was a kind of podunk little college town with this little dark, dank bar full of typical uni kids—bro look on the dudes, and skanky hipster look on the girls. I saw there was this one girl who didn’t seem to be having that much fun. She was off in a corner on her own and even though she had been drinking, she was still really twitchy and nervous-looking. It kinda reminded me of the time I dared Kyle Wellwood to drink as much Red Bull as he could. He quit at 4 and looked like this girl. She came over, gave me an odd squint-eyed look, as if she couldn’t figure out if she knew me. Then she said, “Are you…you fucking Matt Stajan?” Now, I had on my witty pants so I said “No, I’m not fucking Matt Stajan, I AM Matt Stajan.” She stuttered a bit and replied, “really? For serious? I—fuck—I don’t really know what to say. I study down at the college—university. With books and stuff. God, I’m such an ass.”
What I wanted to say was “No you’re not an ass. In fact you seem like a very energetic and interesting person. What do you study?” What came out was, “No you’re not an ass. In fact you seem—” and then, without warning, I threw up all over her shoes. I hadn’t felt ill or anything before that. Maybe it was the bus ride, or playing the Bruins the next day or I ate something that didn’t agree with me. Whatever it was, it was messy. The girl said “Oh God, I’m so sorry, are you ok? Did I say something?”
I told her, “no, I think it’s because I’m playing the Bruins tomorrow. You aren’t a Bruins fan, are you?” She said, “no, I’m a Leafs fan. And a fan of yours, as in a LOT. I write a hockey blog, Loser Domi? Well, it’s about the players not like, analysis or something.” I’ll be honest, I wasn’t even listening to her at this point because the smell and taste of vomit in my mouth brought me down to all fours to puke a few more times. She looked at me after an awkward silence and said “I’m just going to go get some paper towels or something to get cleaned up.”
When I looked up after emptying my stomach, she was gone. In her place was Pavel Kubina, wondering if I wanted in on a game of pool. I said, “Nah, I just threw up on some girl. I should just call it a night.”
“Oh”, said Kubie. All he could say was “oh.”
Hey you, check out Getting Nifty in the Clutch. I write there as well. In the mean time: