June, 2012

Wednesday, June 20th, 2012

The Puck Bunny Vs. The Double Standard

First of all, let me say that I am just as annoyed as the rest of you with the uprise of overly cliched puck bunnies on Twitter and the like. These girls spew such stereotypical puck bunny ideals that it’s to the point that, quite frankly, I question whether any of them have ever succeeded in their puck bunny objectives, and by that, I mean, have actually taken down a hockey player. Now, I can understand why you mock these individuals for being walking stereotypes, or for their sad attempts to walk and talk like something straight out of the locker room, or, at least, the pages of the Junior Hockey Bible. However, when you attack these ladies for their sexuality/sexual habits, that’s when I no longer have your back.

It’s amazing that women in our culture are still being discriminated against sexually in 2012. The more women a guy has sex with, the more of a man he becomes. However, if a woman sleeps with ANYONE, she gets labeled a slut, or a whore, or completely and totally tainted for the rest of her life. Heaven help her if that guy was a hockey player, because then, not only is she a slut, but she’s a puck whore, too.

Yeah, just like you, I’ve heard all the degrading stories of the puck bunny/hockey player rendezvous. Do I think that there is a good chance that, a few years down road, some of these women will look back at their puck bunny years, and have some regrets about their decision to blow 6 guys on the team at once? Yeah, of course I do. Unfortunately, it is not my place or yours to judge a woman for her personal sexual limitations. Just because you or I wouldn’t blow 6 guys at once, doesn’t mean everyone feels that way.

After a few rounds of drinks, and everyone has loosened up, conversations often turn to the boudoir. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done in bed?” is a question I NEVER know how to answer. For me, bedroom antics fall into two categories – 1) Things I would do, and 2) things I wouldn’t. So, for me, there is no “crazy,” because if I consider something to be way too out there for my taste, then it’s not happening. Plus, let’s not forget that no one really knows what “everyone” is doing in bed, and “crazy” to one person, could be “vanilla” to another. Hell, I’ve had hockey players absolutely SHOCK me with some of the stories from their encounters with puck bunnies, while others had nothing but tales of missionaries with their socks on!

So, I suppose I will have to side with the raging puck bunnies on this issue, and send my pity out to those that hate others for their sexual freedom because (I suspect) they are angry that they have allowed themselves to be so repressed. I know the feeling. I remember those days when I thought that I needed to slow down because I had two guys under my belt, and that meant that I was on the fast track to slutsville. Trust me, it is much more liberating to take control of your sexuality and its unique dimensions, than allow society’s discrimination to dictate how you lead your life.

I know I’m not going to change the world with this blog post, but I will say that belittling a puck bunny’s (or any woman’s) physical anatomy (which seems to be the trend now) simply because she isn’t a virgin is absolutely despicable, and feeds right into those repressive, out dated notions that a woman who has sex is destroyed for all other men. Pardon my bluntness, but of all the penises I have seen in my lifetime, I’m going say that the average size is about 4 inches. That’s right – FOUR! A lot of the men reading this are probably feeling pretty damn good about themselves right now, I bet. Anyway, how much damage do you think that can actually do? Not much, trust me! So, just like how those angry she-fans reveal their secret desires for hockey player sexcapades, by preoccupying themselves with hating self-proclaimed puckies, so, too, do misogynistic males reveal what little they are concealing in their pants by obsessing over the “vaginal looseness” of women who simply prefer hockey players to them.


Wednesday, June 13th, 2012

I dream of Stanley Cup Champions… or rather I don’t???

Intuition is there even when my vision’s impaired…

Somewhere on the Eastern shore of Japan Speaking of bizarre stories, there was another one of note, which also occurred a few days before my birthday, and since I really like to take the crazy to new levels in the offseason, I’ve decided to share it with you! Just like that persistent thought, which prevented me from going to sleep before I booked my vacation to Southeast Asia, and thus saved me (in theory) from another year away from hockey, I was plagued with another unshakeable thought about two hockey players – one I knew briefly, and one I kind of wish I never knew existed.

I don’t know if “thought” is the correct term for what I was experiencing, maybe “waking dream,” or whatever it is that happens to you in those moments before you drift off to La La Land. Anyway, when I shut my eyes that night, I was transported to some darkened lounge I had never seen before. A waitress had walked over to me, and placed a drink in front of me, motioning that one of the guys sitting at the bar had sent it to me. I looked up and my happy intrigue quickly faded, as I realized that the guy sitting there was definitely at the top of the list of current NHL players that have not done anything to deserve to be in my head at bedtime. Even in this dream state (or whatever it was), I didn’t know how to respond to the gesture, and instead I just stared back at him blankly.

Eventually, he got the balls to come over to talk to me, which definitely means that this version of him was a lot less gutless than he is in real life. However, I quickly realized that he didn’t have the same intentions that your average guy would have for sending a drink over to some anonymous girl as an ice breaker. In this “dream” he had sent me the drink in a sort of passive aggressive way to let me know that he had found out about the first NHL player to perform the same act a few seasons earlier.

With venom in his voice he began regaling me with a true story between a Chicago Blackhawk and moi, while I was on one of my many hockey road trips some years back. I hadn’t actually thought about this incident in years until this dream-like thing prompted the memory.

I was at a resto-lounge after the game, when the exact same thing happened. I hadn’t been in the place for more than a few minutes, but as I was perusing the drink menu, the waitress came over and plopped an orange drink down in front of me. She told me that someone, who wished to remain anonymous, wanted me to have it. Of course, my natural instinct was to scan the room for clues as to who the culprit was, and as soon as I did [Enter Blackhawk’s Name Here] was staring straight at me with the guiltiest, “Noooo, it ‘wasn’t’ me” expression on his face.

I remember being really impressed with the whole thing. I thought guys only did that sort of thing in the movies – the OLD movies at that! I don’t know, but the word, “classy” definitely came to mind at the time. So, I did what I deemed to be the appropriate response, and went over to thank him. Of course, if there was any chivalrousness in the act, it quickly went out the window when I asked him what the drink was, and he responded with, “I don’t know, I just told her to make you something strong.” Oh my…

By the way, I’ve decided to keep this guy’s name out of this post out of principle, and so that I can blog in greater detail (sort of). But don’t worry, I’ll *try* to make it obvious for you! Well, he obviously spent the evening glued to my side, and I obviously had to remind him of the time when his London Knights lost to my boys, the Guelph Storm, who would go on to win the J. Ross Robertson Cup way back in the day *hint hint.* I think I may even still have photo evidence of this back in Canada – remind me to check the next time I’m home. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t planning to go down “that road” that night, if you know what I’m saying, which guys seem to always take personally when they really shouldn’t. So, his night ended anticlimactically (literally) despite his great efforts. The last thing I remember was watching him play video games with his little headset and his blue reindeer pajamas LOL! Yes, you read that correctly – reindeer pajamas!

Anyway, back to the dream thing and the non-Hawk NHL player. After basically informing me that he was aware of everything I just told you. I looked at him in utter disbelief. “Uhh, what’s the problem here? First of all, I didn’t fuck him, and second of all, why exactly would YOU care if I did?!” He said nothing, but turned away from me with eyes rolling in his I’m-just-being-a-little-bitch-again kind of way. “Jesus,” I said. “Are you bipolar or something?”

In the next instance my eyes were wide open. I was kind of baffled as to why this whole scene had just played out in my mind. Anyway, I tried to shake it off, and go to sleep, but as soon as I would feel myself about to drift off, that exact same scenario replayed itself. It would happen at least two or three more times before I managed to fall asleep for good.

When I woke up the next morning, I instantly remembered that bizarre dream thing, and felt compelled to investigate. Perhaps it’s the fact that the non-Blackhawk tends to only pop up in my dreams when something is actually happening. You have no idea how many dreams I’ve had of him scoring (ON THE ICE) the night before he actually does, or even while he is scoring if time zone difference permits. No idea why because I never dream this kind of crap about anyone else, but it’s to the point that several men I know have asked me to inform them when I do, so that they can adjust their sports bets/fantasy teams – no lie. Didn’t have too many of those dreams this season, did I LOL?! Just two, actually!

Anyway, I guess it was because of this other 18 goal/goal scoring dream bizarreness that I felt compelled to research this particular incident and these two hockey players, who I had no idea actually knew each other for any other reason than being the obvious occasional opponents. I didn’t have to go far because as soon as I switched on my MacBook, my Twitter timeline was flooded with people retweeting photos of the two of them on some boat, and hanging out with the plastic she-dregs of Chicago society *casually vomits everywhere.* Anyway, the really weird thing is that given the time difference between Tokyo and Chicago, if those photos were posted on the day they were taken, then that suggests that those two were being all buddy-buddy at the exact time that my sleep was being disturbed (by them?!). Cue the theme song to The Twilight Zone.

Why am I telling you this story? Well, the first reason is the fact that it’s really fucking weird/coincidental, especially since the following night the same thing would happen again with that whole school in Greece and my future away from hockey business – I was really “on” that week it seems! The other reason is because I would end up using this Blackhawk’s “smooth maneuvers” during an encounter I had with the current Vice Coach DILF of the Los Angeles Kings, John Stevens.

Perhaps it was the wine talking, but when DILF-o-rama waltz into the restaurant I was at in Toronto the night before one of his games as Head DILF of the Philadelphia Flyers, I, too, sent him a little drink as a way to thank him for all his hard work behind the bench. He reciprocated in the true-manliest of ways possible by buying me both dessert AND a dessert beverage. Ooh la la. The waitress would later point out that a few of the Flyers were watching the spectacle from the bar, but my response was a firm, “Well, I prefer coaches!” Yesssss…

I guess I felt the need to share my little anecdote since the Kings are now the 2012 Stanley Cup Champions, and this story is a lot better than the only real life story I have of Coach DILF Pete DeBoer, which basically involved my friendly neighbourhood pharmacy, and him looking at me like I was crazy because I was beyond excited that our paths were crossing. I guess that’s not surprising since I’m not the ugly-as-sin pornstar type he seems to like, eh? For the sake of entertainment, I guess it’s a good thing the Devils didn’t win the Cup then! Oh, and congratulations on the W, Kings and fans! An 8th seed winning the Cup – never thought I’d see the day!

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