#117 - My Canuck Boyfriends.

I actually was going to do a Sharks one, but I woke up and the Canucks were gone. Zip. Nada. I actually painted my nails in a teal and blue combination (I couldn't find any green) in hopes it would provide some support. Alas, I seem to be chasing that same hopeless dream where an underdog team destroys the jaws of the vicious overlord of Anaheim. Nothing escapes its wrath.

Nonetheless throughout the glory run of "CAN THE CANUCKS DO IT? OOHHHHH OHHHHH", I've developed soft spots for these kids, some completely random but nonetheless it's something that brings out the worst in me. However I will present three ideal date scenarios of three top Canucks (in Jordi's mind). They're nothing as good as Margee's poetic narratives but I tried my best. And um, these are less funny and unfortunately a lot of my prose seem to hover upon the um inappropriate kind.

Yes I know they're all married, allow me to pretend that I am talking about Canuck players but not the actual ones - just the ones with the same face, name, number etc. Oh and no Pyatt. I hate him. Gives me the fucking heebie jeebies.


Canuck Date #1: Markus Naslund
It's a cold night, and you've been waiting for what feels like an hour but your watch says 20 minutes. He promised - no - he practically begged you to come meet him. And you seem to have fallen for the romantic notion that he was interested. You've been waiting on the street and you feel foolish, because pretty soon everyone will recognise that your hair was falling apart. You want to fix your makeup, because your eyes are watering. Everyone would know you were stood up. And not just by any old guy, you wouldn't cry like this for them.

You're getting chilly because your thin cardigan isn't holding up, you try to sink your chin further into your chest. Shame does nothing to warm you but numbs reality for you. A thick wool coat surrounds you and you almost jump from shock. Markus is looking at you angelically, a smile that tells you nothing is wrong. He looks a little harangued and his hair is in disarray. You tell him he's late and you're not pleased, he's quick to apologise. His hands are clutching a crushed bouquet of roses that he wanted to greet you early with. However as he left half an hour early to met you, a car crash had occured outside his home and he was bringing an elderly lady to the nearby hospital.

You want to be selfish and be unimpressed, but he's already whisking you away to the restaurant he had reservations at. You're nervous because people are looking at you, after all one of the most beautiful men in BC is leading you to dinner. You've seen the restaurant before, frankly it looks a little more than you could afford on any day. You're getting nervous because the maitre'd looks like he'll flip you the finger for being late and kick you out.

Markus begs the maitre'd for the much needed table and warmth. But he's not winning, you feel a little embarrassed as the shouting gets louder. Markus gives up eventually, and people are looking at him with a certain awe and pity. He apologises profusely for you for the spoiled night and you both quietly leave the restaurant.

Unfortunately Naslund's mood is a little foul after leaving, he mutters about how he should've known as he never goes to restaurants like that. You feel guilty, being the one who only follows. Your fingers reach out for his and he grasps it lovingly. Somehow the small simple gesture is comforting as you both walk through the streets. Fresh snow is falling but the company of Markus is keeping you hearty. Your fingers are tracing the warmth of his and he responds with each.

He suddenly stops at a park, the statues frosted with white. He turns and he lowers forehead against yours. The wind has blown his hair into another loving mess. Your cheeks are flushed and his eyes seem to gaze straight at your own. Your lips touch and you get at least one part of the evening done. His left arm cooly reaches out and hails a cab. He opens the door to let you in and you both decide to go to his place.

Canuck Boyfriend #2 is coming Tuesday, I have an essay due soon and being the bitch I am, I forgot.

And you know, this thing ended up longer than I thought.

Side note:
Souray has a new kid? What the fuck?

"Scarlett looks EXACTLY like Vali," Souray writes. "Thank God."

Yeah thank God alright.