Filler Friday!

A blog I used read, back before blogs were hip, used to have Filler Fridays. Enjoy filler!

First, we have an Avalanche fan who lost a bet with C.C. Deville.

Also at Saturday's game, there were random people with wings handing out candy saying “Colorado loves California.” My first thought? Colorado is trying to poison us.

Finally, here's some kid in a Dodger blue knock-off Kopitar jersey.

…thus concludes this first Filler Friday.

Two, almost three months.

I haven’t posted since the start of the actual season.

I have two words: Fucking. Awesome.

Now the not so awesome: Williams, Stoll, Scuderi, and have all been out with injuries. Smyth is still out with one of those mysterious upper body injuries. Or was it lower? A friend of mine was listed with an upper body injury when another player busted his nose. I guess “broken nose” was too specific. We’ve seen Smyth, and his ugly mug looks pretty much the same.

Oh yeah, Stoll is screwing MILFs out, again. Fake Chris Kontos at The Royal Half also pointed out that you can’t spell Johnson without the “S.”


Jack in happier times.
Photo by Michael Zampelli of letsgokings.com.

My Fro-love has finally picked up the slack. I think. After Deano threatened to ship him to Edmonton. Since Dean Lombardi kind of looks like my uncle, I can say with false confidence that Deano knows a guy who knows a guy who can straighten out any conflicts. Just sayin’.

Randy Jones is out? Shit. Can’t spell Jones with the “S,” either.

I’m going to refrain from making predictions about any other players. After the Calgary game tonight they have eight days off. No doubt the majority of them will stay in Canada, and feast upon Timbits and poutine. While a few Americans fly back to the States, and… do they celebrate Christmas in where ever the hell Ivanans is from?


Small children are traditional Latvian Christmas dish.
Photo from this guy.

Wayne Simmonds is out with a torn meniscus. Some would argue, me included, that Simmonds brings a lot of heart to the team. I think six-weeks without Simmonds will make anyone skeptical of why we’re so crazy about him finally understand. I had the same surgery about ten years ago, and it’s not a huge threat to his health. I think it took me less than four-weeks to get off the crutches. The threat to the Kings, however, is grim.

Even without Simmonds and Smyth these guys have managed to claw their way up to the top of the Western Conference. Seriously. Look:



On a side note, I've been a regular at the Tuesday night chats [because I have no life and nothing to do at work, usually] at Barry Melrose Rocks. If you haven't checked out their site, you should. If I get ambitious I'll probably start writing bad fan fiction about Drew Doughty using Matt Greene's dog to pick up college sluts girls at Sharkeez.

Back in LA, just in time

...what day is it? It's still Monday for another half hour. Oh right, and I haven't written on this thing in a month. The Swarles has been sick as a dog. Luckily for me I was not sick in time for the games on Tuesday and Saturday.

Some thoughts from Saturday:
-Kyle Calder as a Duck is hilarious. I guess he didn't have to move far to continue to waste space.
-Stupid Sexy Jonathan Bernier is really fighting for a spot in the big kids' club.
-I. WANT. FRO. LOV.
-I am never sitting in a certain area of a certain section again. The price was good because the STH around us couldn't shut up and watch the game!
-I witnessed the most intellectual fight the NHL has ever seen. George Parros v. Kevin Westgarth. Were they arguing over whose IQ is higher or string theory? ...or Kevin was hungry and he saw some fresh duck.
-I looked Brayden Schenn in the eyes, and my underwear melted. Luckily I was wearing black shoes. What is the black market value for Schenn babies in Canada?
-Ryan Smyth's mullet is a majestic thing of beauty. It almost rivals Jim Fox as the cure for cancer.



Frozen Fury is this Saturday! Vegas, baby, Vegas!

I'm off to study Russian so I can recite Andrei Voznesensky to my sweet, sweet Fro-love in his native tongue. Not really. Two alphabets is enough for me.

Goodbye: Kyle Quincey

Kyle Quincey, as we like to remember him. Even though that's Detroit's Cup.

Well Kyle, to be honest, I am pretty sad that this day had to come. Most of us in LA were pretty fond of you, I think. The fact that you look kind of like Ed Norton will help you fit in anywhere. Just stop frosting your hair or whatever the hell it is you're doing to it, please. You will get even more chicks if you don't look like a late '90s senior yearbook photo.

In my head, the one where Luc is a giant Keebler elf, you and Wayne Simmonds liked to dress up Oscar Moller. At least, that's the only explanation for those weird photos where Oscar is wearing what white 50 year-old CEOs would call "urban" makes sense. In my head. What's with white people and bad sweater parties? I also think you and Simmonds took Oscar to a Western wear shop and dressed him up like a cowboy.

...and Tom Preissing, who was also traded, what the hell did you do again? All can think of is your bad contract. I've already forgotten what you look like and whether or not you're Canadian. In any case, I hope for your sake you suck less in Colorado. Maybe you should let Kyle beat you up some, to toughen you up, or just make women feel sorry for you can get some strange. Edit: I've been told that Tom Pressing is married. My best to Mrs. Preissing. (nervous laughter)

You can now look forward to bad Photoshops of Ryan Smyth and his mullet of doom.