Tony’s still wearing the same shitty equipment I was wearing playing pick-up in Guelph in the early 2000s.
And that mask. I try to describe what goalie masks were like when I started playing in 1967, and the best description I can come up with is, they were plastic Halloween masks; at least Tony’s had some wire on it.
He also used to cover his body in Vaseline so the pucks would hurt less.
He still holds the record for single season shutouts, set in 1970.
I have an autographed picture of Tony tucked away somewhere.
Not bad for a couple of boys from the Sault (Ste. Marie).
Tony’s taken a lot of pucks to the head; so have I.
Tony seems fine, me not so much.
Today I (almost) finalized the paperwork to donate my brain to the Sports Brain Bank in Sydney upon my death. They’re affiliated with the U.S. branch and do research on chronic traumatic encephalopathy (see the movie Concussion). They’ve asked us to post a picture with our brain donor card.
Awareness of concussions and how special our brains are has come a long way since 1967, but there is still much that is unknown.
I’m an ideas guy, not a details guy, but Amy sorted it out and things are now at dougsdeadflowers.com.
I started this post two days ago and forgot what I was writing about.
When I was a kid, our family would drive every other weekend two hours north to Cookstown, Ontario (that’s in Canada).
I usually barfed and still do today.
I have lots of memories of me and gramps driving from Cookstown to Toronto to get parts for his Massey-Ferguson dealership, but I can feel those memories fading away, every time I have to pause and rethink what I was writing.
Mushrooms are a much better psychedelic, but I only did them once.,
I had a colleague in the early 1990s who would tell me when he retired, he would sit at a cottage with a couple of Marshall amps, his electric guitar and do a bunch of hallucinogens.
Not sure that worked out.
According to Tom Ozimek of The Epoch Times, authorities are investigating the case of an Enterprise Rent-A-Car employee accused of slipping LSD into his co-workers’ water bottles.
A 19-year-old man is in custody in connection with the incident, which allegedly took place at an Enterprise Rent-A-Car location in Arnold, Missouri, last Thursday, March 21, according to KMOV.
Arnold Police received a call from the Enterprise manager, who reported that two employees, a 24-year-old woman and a 23-year-old man, had both been hospitalized after they began to feel “weird and dizzy,” according to the Jefferson County Leader.
Police say the man told them his coworkers at Enterprise Rent-A-Car had “negative energy,” and he wanted them to mellow out. So the 19-year-old put LSD in three people’s water bottles and coffee cups.
Messing around with people’s food or beverages is never OK.
First I started falling on my hockey skates and the was the end of my 50-year hockey career.
Then I fell off my bike a couple of times and that was the end of cyclying.
Then I started falling while walking.
My wife thinks I’m a drunk, I think I’ve taken too many pucks to the head as a goaltender in ice hockey since 1967 (the last time the Leafs won the cup), 4 years as a linebacker in North American football, the car crash and everything else.
Amy took me to emergency yesterday a.m. because she’s solid like that.
Three stiches in the ear, a couple in my forehead.
Aurelie Sipos of Le Parisien writes there was a mouse running through the supermarket shelves , tucked away in a baguette and now … floating in the Coca-Cola can. On March 7, Damien, 34, would have preferred not to make this new discovery. While returning home and after drinking his entire soda, this computerist is sure to have come face to face with a rodent, stuck in the can.
After an order in his usual restaurant near his work, Damien receives with his pizza a can of Coke. “I do not drink it during the meal, but on my return home,” says the young man. It detects nothing abnormal, no suspicious taste or disturbing texture. “The can finished, I empty it to prevent the bottom sinks in the trash. And there, I realize that it is not empty, “said the resident of Varenne-sur-Seine (Seine-et-Marne).
According to his story, he observes with horror that the weight of his can is due to a dead rodent. “I immediately called Coca-Cola and they spent a good quarter of an hour” (that’s French for 15 minutes). After this contact, he then receives a letter, explaining that the security of the company’s production line is total, and that it can not come from home. Damien also goes to the police station, which does not take his complaint. “They told me to find solutions on the Internet,” he says, bitter.
My wife told me not to post this until all the bugs get worked out, but I can’t help myself.
I like Dyke was a play on the Eisenhower slogan of the 1950s and used by my vice-presidential running mate in high school politics – and best friend – which would make sense if I told you his last name, but first rule of confessionals and therapy, no last names.
Dave and I were tight through high school, we dated girls who were best friends – little Suzie being part of the inspiration for this blog, and Dead Flowers is Ben’s favorite Stone’s song – we both drove pieces of shit – I had a Datsun B210, Dave had a Ford Vega, a cousin to the notorious Pinto which had a tendency to blow up when hit from behind – and we spent every waking hour together.
And then, we didn’t.
Dave and I have reconnected in the past couple of months as we both could be on our last legs.
Hearing his deep chortle over the Intertubes has brought a warmth to what’s left of my heart and reminded me why we were such a good fit initially.
If only all relationships were like that (of course, we don’t live together, and if we did, one of us would be dead in days).
Relationships are hard like that.
But I’m glad I said my peace before there was nothing but regret.
There’s a reason the clones in George Orwell’s 1984 had gin available: Because it’s fucking awful.
According to Maya-Rose Torrao of Briefly, inventors Les Ansley and Professor Paula Ansley (sounds like a lab relationship that shouldn’t be) have created South Africa’s first ever gin made from elephant poop.
The two creators took inspiration from Mzansi’s gentle giants when they noticed that much of what elephants eat passes through their systems undigested
The creators of this unique drink explain, on their website: “The original idea for elephant dung gin came from marrying the love of Africa and its wildlife with the love of gin. We are both scientists—and therefore inclined towards novel ideas and problem solving—so when Paula had the idea we really wanted to see whether it would actually be possible. The more we explored the concept the more it opened up and the more excited we became.”