And it's only been 30-some odd yearsGot a call on Saturday from an old friend, asking if I wanted to go to tonight's hockey game against the bad Bruins. (In this case, "bad" meaning, well, bad.) Fuck, would I ever. Thinking back on it, I realised that I've only been to one hockey game before in my lifetime, in 1970, the Habs vs the Blackhawks.
So cool, good (manly) times ahead. Get some "steamies" and greasy fries at a local casse-croûte, swill watered-down expensive beer at the game, try to not get into a fight with drunken Boston retahds, and then head with the boys to the nearest nudie bar to ogle silicone-implanted pole-dancers.
Does it get any better than this? Okay, sleeping and snoring on the sofa won't be great, but it's a small price to pay.