The 2013 Stanley Cup Finals Drinking Game…because it’s the cup duh

With the Stanley Cup final just days from being decided, Chicago is booming with Blackhawk pride. I mean, it’s not every day a Chicago team comes this close to a Championship, so hell yes we are gonna flaunt it in every way possible and hell yes we’re gonna watch the games and pretend we know everything there is to know about hockey (you know who you are).

This final series against the Bruins has been a nail-biter and the closest series yet with 3 of 4 games being forced into OT…Damn, that’s a lot of hockey. My friends and I are so happy to have made it this far in the series because it’s given us an excuse to drink on weeknights. Shout out to Tommy Nevins of Evanston for being the unofficial sponsor of our incessant drinking.  That brings me to the real reason for this blog post: a stanley cup finals drinking game. Knowing how add my friends and I can get, there’s a slim chance we’ll still be following the drinking game by the second period, but here it is anyway:

Take a shot when:

The hawks score

The hawks kill a power play

Take two shots when/if:

The hawks score on a PP

The game goes into OT

5 second chug when:

Behind the glass with Pierre

There’s a fight

The commentators comment on Chara’s height

Icing

A song with Pitbull plays

Celebrity at the game is on TV

Player loses/breaks his stick

Shaw gets involved in a brawl

That dumb Chevy commercial w/ Toews and Kane comes on

One minute warning (every period)

Let’s go Hawks!!! Play well, boys!

Liar liar pants on fire

To put it simply, I was a lying little shit when I was a kid….a real nightmare. For example, one time, when the babysitter tried to put me to bed I told her I required a massage (with baby oil) before falling asleep.

Perhaps my most devious lie was the time I found a Christmas pin in the shape of a present; however, I didn’t see just a present pin, but rather, a golden opportunity to punk my dear friend Kimmy. I somehow managed to fool her into believing that my Great Grandmother’s spirit resided inside the present. How I came up with such an imaginative story, I have no idea. But the present pin took on a life of it’s own. When it was time to go over to Kimmy’s house I’d grab the present pin and put on my game face. I’d talk in a creaky old lady voice and scare the living shit out of poor old Kimmy. Just a side note: Kimmy is doing well today, and I’m relieved to say that my contrived story of “the great grandmother living in a small present pin” did not permanently scar her as I thought it would have.

Another time, during a hot summer day I told a group of kids that I spotted a garter snake in the bushes. Because they had never experienced my lies, they weren’t quick to doubt me. For about an hour, we set out on a mission to find this snake…a snake that existed in my mind but definitely not in the perfectly manicured lawns of our north shore suburb. Amazingly I kept a straight face the entire time, and assured them that what I had seen was indeed a garter snake. It was then that I realized how great of a liar I was, so I continued to weave my web of lies, among them:

I told my friend, Julie that my mom was a Victoria’s Secret model.

I told the Schneiders kids that my dad was a race car driver.

I’m sure there were several more, but I can’t remember what they are. I have since stopped lying, because my peers are much less gullible and I have a bit more self respect. However, I still tell at least one harmless white lie a week. Here’s one of many variations of a white lie that I’ve used on multiple occasions:

Dad (to me the morning after a night out): How many beers did you have last night?

Me: Two or three…

No harm, no foul.

They call her “Sleeping Beauty”

I’ve decided to treat this blog as my own personal roast of myself. Call me vain, but making fun of myself is probably one of the best source of entertainment I can provide for you all, my devoted following. So today, I present to you a collage of pictures; however, in this collage you won’t find groups of sorostitutes throwing up sorority signs or dumb duck faces, nor will you find pictures of my dog, Dusty, because I’ll probably make a separate blog for him anyway.

I know it may come as a surprise, but I’m not perfect. Sometimes I “fall asleep” on the floor just inches from my bed. That’s the world I’ve created for myself. So I give to you today a collage of pictures of me sleeping/passed out/oblivious. Thanks to my friends for capturing these moments, and more importantly, thanks for still being my friends.

top right takes the cake…