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In Memoriam: HHM Gameday Foodblog Thread, Chicago Blackhawks vs Nashville Games 4-7
Dear Hockey Gods,
Forgive us. We have overstepped. We who worship the glory of the majestic Indian Head and Feathers have been arrogant, and have forgotten the face of our fathers. Forgive us. We have spoken smack, talked tales, closed fists in cash, and laughed at our enemies. We beseech thee, do not let our heroes be cut down like thin shaves of ice slivered by such swift blades. Give us strength, and pain killers. May we have speed, and wisdom. Let us bring you honor once more, the right ways. The hockey ways. Reward our perseverance, and faith. We who believe remain steadfast. The clean sweep we expected is long long gone, and its death took some souls and perhaps a few penis's were lost. Take this meat as our sacrifice. Embrace the ambrosia in our penis fires. And place them where they belong in the asses of our foes. A dirty sweep will do, if you wish.
Praise thee and this game. We our thankful for our plentiful bounty. We who have been given much, must not complain. You are just, this is fate. But may we not go down like this. May we have intrepid hearts on this day. May we have blazing feet, and true...steady hands. We will not fail you. We will play hockey. We will stand as men. We will hit like giants. We will slip past their defenses like wraiths. They are strong, with you our heroes can be stronger. May we just represent the game with the respect hockey deserves. And let that be enough. A W as always, is your will.
Each man that still believes, I ask for your favorite GIF of Q to line the first two pages before puck drop, and your favorite rock song or apt song for the day to bring us together on the spiritual waves, and fill the air in melodious supplication for homage to the hockey gods. And also your planned gameday meal, and Binny's pairing. I want streams of Q yelling. This ain't no joke. This ain't no game. Its time to get fired up and blow the fucking doors off this house. Get back to Chicago!! We have done 3-1 plenty. This is the same. Just win tomorrow. Turn the pressure. Remind them they have their hands full. Shake Rinne's confidence.
we have nothing to lose now except pride. I hope they have that left.
Say your prayers tonight Blackhawks.
To the Bread Man, and the Butter, and the Tazer, and the Panik. The Malty Smaltzy, and new kid, Hayden. Say this tonight. As we will all for you as we burn the sage late in to the night, and cut our own wrists in shame.
“I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.
I aim with my eye.
I do not shoot with my hand; he who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.
I shoot with my mind.
I do not kill with my [stick]; he who kills with his [stick] has forgotten the face of his father.
I kill with my heart.”
We left the ice dead and buried. Return as killers.
[video=youtube;DiKhT1TgpwA]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DiKhT1TgpwA[/video]
I ain't going down like this!!! my spirit ain't dead and tonight I will dance with spirits both light and dark around the fire circle. I will ride the vapors into the ether and pay the prices, I will invade their minds and infect them with my madness. I will fill their dreams with my rough tongue licking the flesh from their puffy masseters. Its our turn to feed.
Yours truly, Screeching Eagle. The last screech of the screeching eagle. As payment. As necessity. As sincerity. Fuck you. Fuck them. Fuck everyone and everything tomorrow. Focused, angry, determined...skate fast and hit hard. We got this bitches. If the Gods will it so.
Humbly, mercifully. We repent, we remember. We can only go so far as you desire, not us. Thank you for the rings and many etchings. We were wrong to look down on anyone.
The prayers of my dreams.
Bread-Tazer-Butter
Smaltz-Kruger-Panik
Hartman-Hinostroza-Hossa
Hayden-Kero or Desjardins-Rasmussen unleash the HHH Q!!! do it!! "Noq su mow!!!" (The Deer Hunter-"do it now")
My pre-game meal. In game meal. Post game meal.
Dear Hockey Gods,
Forgive us. We have overstepped. We who worship the glory of the majestic Indian Head and Feathers have been arrogant, and have forgotten the face of our fathers. Forgive us. We have spoken smack, talked tales, closed fists in cash, and laughed at our enemies. We beseech thee, do not let our heroes be cut down like thin shaves of ice slivered by such swift blades. Give us strength, and pain killers. May we have speed, and wisdom. Let us bring you honor once more, the right ways. The hockey ways. Reward our perseverance, and faith. We who believe remain steadfast. The clean sweep we expected is long long gone, and its death took some souls and perhaps a few penis's were lost. Take this meat as our sacrifice. Embrace the ambrosia in our penis fires. And place them where they belong in the asses of our foes. A dirty sweep will do, if you wish.
Praise thee and this game. We our thankful for our plentiful bounty. We who have been given much, must not complain. You are just, this is fate. But may we not go down like this. May we have intrepid hearts on this day. May we have blazing feet, and true...steady hands. We will not fail you. We will play hockey. We will stand as men. We will hit like giants. We will slip past their defenses like wraiths. They are strong, with you our heroes can be stronger. May we just represent the game with the respect hockey deserves. And let that be enough. A W as always, is your will.
Each man that still believes, I ask for your favorite GIF of Q to line the first two pages before puck drop, and your favorite rock song or apt song for the day to bring us together on the spiritual waves, and fill the air in melodious supplication for homage to the hockey gods. And also your planned gameday meal, and Binny's pairing. I want streams of Q yelling. This ain't no joke. This ain't no game. Its time to get fired up and blow the fucking doors off this house. Get back to Chicago!! We have done 3-1 plenty. This is the same. Just win tomorrow. Turn the pressure. Remind them they have their hands full. Shake Rinne's confidence.
we have nothing to lose now except pride. I hope they have that left.
Say your prayers tonight Blackhawks.
To the Bread Man, and the Butter, and the Tazer, and the Panik. The Malty Smaltzy, and new kid, Hayden. Say this tonight. As we will all for you as we burn the sage late in to the night, and cut our own wrists in shame.
“I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.
I aim with my eye.
I do not shoot with my hand; he who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.
I shoot with my mind.
I do not kill with my [stick]; he who kills with his [stick] has forgotten the face of his father.
I kill with my heart.”
We left the ice dead and buried. Return as killers.
[video=youtube;DiKhT1TgpwA]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DiKhT1TgpwA[/video]
I ain't going down like this!!! my spirit ain't dead and tonight I will dance with spirits both light and dark around the fire circle. I will ride the vapors into the ether and pay the prices, I will invade their minds and infect them with my madness. I will fill their dreams with my rough tongue licking the flesh from their puffy masseters. Its our turn to feed.
Yours truly, Screeching Eagle. The last screech of the screeching eagle. As payment. As necessity. As sincerity. Fuck you. Fuck them. Fuck everyone and everything tomorrow. Focused, angry, determined...skate fast and hit hard. We got this bitches. If the Gods will it so.
Humbly, mercifully. We repent, we remember. We can only go so far as you desire, not us. Thank you for the rings and many etchings. We were wrong to look down on anyone.
The prayers of my dreams.
Bread-Tazer-Butter
Smaltz-Kruger-Panik
Hartman-Hinostroza-Hossa
Hayden-Kero or Desjardins-Rasmussen unleash the HHH Q!!! do it!! "Noq su mow!!!" (The Deer Hunter-"do it now")
My pre-game meal. In game meal. Post game meal.
