Poked awake

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night. And when I do, my mind almost always goes to playing goal. And most of the time, I'm visualizing the many ways I can poke check shooters into oblivion. I swear I don't do it on purpose, it's just how my obsessive little brain works.

But it's not exactly a recipe for getting back to sleep, since my whole body tenses up and I get a little adrenaline flowing just thinking about stopping pucks.

I keep hoping that someday all this visualization will result in me becoming a masterful poke checker. That does tend to be my MO... I think and think and think and think and then.... BOOM... I DO.

Look out, boys.

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Man is it ever shitty out. And by shitty, I mean, poundyouintheass cold, at least for these parts.

It goes without saying, but I'm saying it anyway: If you're driving today, be safe and for the love of god, wear your MFing seatbelt. Yeahhhhh, I'm on to you.

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I hate Pascal LeClaire's pads. What are you? A circus tent? A candy cane? Licorice? Gag.