Disclaimer: This is entirely fictional and not meant to be anywhere near reality. At times some Sabres may be portrayed in a negative light. This is in no way meant to be serious, or disparage any players, rather it will more often disparage many stereotypes and biases held by fans that have little basis in reality.
With the season ending in late April, and three kids at home, frustrations have been mounting as I’ve gone months without scoring in two different ways. I guess there are only so many times you can look at the sky wondering which God is cursing you, or drop f-bombs in public before your teammates suggest you find another outlet to deal with your difficulties. I swear to god Regehrsie, I didn’t know your kids were behind me. I don’t want to take the time to figure out the internet, or get out of bed, so I’ll be transcribing this to Roysie’s personal assistant. Thanks Roysie!
So I guess I should start by saying a little about myself. My name is Thomas and I play winger in the NHL for the Buffalo Sabres. I have a super hot wife, three kids, and I spend most of my time skating around the opposing blue line hating my teammates. I’m not saying they suck, but there are donuts with more productive centers than me. Speaking of donuts, I should have Roysie’s man-servant get me some later.
I guess I’ll talk about the offseason acquisitions. Totally excited to see my BFF Al Kotalik for a few days as he stops by Rochester on his way to the KHL. If they’ll let me use my segway in the mall, or better yet give me one of those scooters to get around, we’re going to get mani-pedis. I also saw Robyn Regehr a few days ago; he looked at my shirt and it burst into flames. Looks like Millsie will have a clear crease this year.
People tell me this Ehrhoff guy and I are going to be ppbffs (does that sound gay? I’ll ask Roysie later). I can just stand in front of the goalie while he wanders around the offensive zone like Max that one time we replaced his water with Vodka. Come to think of it, we might have just replaced vodka with more vodka.
And there’s a new forward too. I don’t know his name, but I think it’s NOT ROB FUCKING NIEDERMAYER ON MY LINE. Should be pretty sweet.
Alright, gotta go. Heading to the gym to get in shape for the Sabres beefcake calendar. We can’t all be born looking like Paul Gaustad. Then Kaletasie is giving me some celebration pointers. Sixteen words: thirty foot tall statue of yours truly in a superman cape coming down from the rafters.