Fragment Blog 2

Very delayed. Resulting from two consecutive Wings games. Thanks to Abby for third paragraph fragments.

Got to game super early. Bert jerseys, Uncle Tennis, and Joe rectangles. Lots of waiting and shivering - shouldn't have believed the weather report. Accidental trippings, rock-kicking, guys with cameras, and inaugural jerseys. Douchebags galore. Hockey virgins and female Hunters. Bitchy ushers with cancer sticks, and not being able to find camp due to the wind. Puck bunnies in spike heels getting entirely too close. Wafting body odor and cancer smoke, mixed with cheap perfume. Blue hair and more small boys. Geography lessons from the people mover. Publicity! And knowing how culture crash celebrities feel. A Fire Inside to speed up the time. Still obsessing about Dion and Verge Fest. Bert rules? Drooling for Timmy's, and imagining the smell of meatless Caesar's. Goal hats and cheesy Journey songs. He Who Laughs Last references. Unlocking doors. People getting lost while looking for the people mover, and wondering how that happens. Phone blogging and shoulder abuse. Redneck music in downtown Detroit. Scalpers. Douchey couple, round two, except more annoying. Bright red hair with a Mickey Mouse hoodie - please let fashion be dispelled. Photographers out of work. Flash, flash, car crash! We're no fixtures. Katie dancing. Dog tags for veterans night. A Timmy's slower than Brighton's and monstrous meatless pizzas - two of them! Long, broken straws demonstrate inadequacy during warm up. Black Eyed Peas and Celtic Wolfman. Attack to the mullets and a singular douchebag in a Hossa jersey. Wings on fire and Wild get rough. Squirts who score on themselves. Green stick tape. Pizza smell everywhere. I wanna ride the zamboni! Europe and intermission country singers. Pretending to be Italian. Gaggles of puck bunnies in heels with liver poison. Picking on Shorty No-Balls. Man, that douche was trippin'! Loud mouth DJ and lame Garth Brooks wannabe, and blocking it out with Prayer Position.

Hyper out of minds. Vest, mind brooms, vehicles on ice, and mullet bonding. Short jokes and seat jumping. The city of Ontario and knee pain. Douchey pelvic thrusting, bad stoppage music, and sore throats. Little Drapers. Swedish chefs, announcers who can't make up their minds, and spreading Army. Michael Jackson is dead. Epic neck pain. Jehovah's Witnesses and Sacrilege. Wishing for student rush tickets to the Pens game. Wishing for a signed Mule puck. Usher invasion, shitty commercials, and more geography. More Brighton, unfortunately. Dancing like whores. Corrigan is everywhere!

Ref hop and lottery tickets. Mind broom makes Jim a hooker. Free pizza. Wings won, but no fries for us. Shut up, douchebag! Drunk Homer fan. Darren's fun in the garage. Checkered fedoras, lost cars, and giraffe purses. More Italian impersonators. Lost voices and boogers. No Miss Murder. No sax before the game - they did it after. Long wait in the garage. Douche-hattery everywhere. The chorus of car alarms. Are we ever going to get out of here?! SKY SPI. Creeper guy staring at Peanut. Little old lady got mutilated last night. Still twelve degrees. EATDIRT. Doug does not play everything. Bass douchebag behind us. It's raining. People need to learn how to drive. Almost plowed into car and trucks. Popo letting us go through red - Peanut doesn't notice. Pretty casino. O'blivions Corktown Cafe. Hobo at the corner. Dear ramp, I hate you. Log Cabin Avenue. Green liver poison. Slim Shady by 8 Mile Road. Sabbath, anyone? This rain sucks. Gaga cover of Michael Jackson. Cluster-fuck of I-96. Stay awake, stay alert, stay alive...stay fresh! Peanut is a doofus. Green Day...good Green Day. Shift Darren, shift! Drop Peanut off - looking ahead to a rainy drive home. Nothing on the radio, as usual. Let's listen to it pour. Quiet dog and parental units. A long awaited urination, just to be refilled. Another Ansley-free bedside. Fresh jammies, and another crash. Up at 6:30 AM for work. There will never be enough coffee.

Second paragraph reference to short jokes: "Rafalski? For hooking? What, did he hit him in the chest?" Best joke ever.