Stick tap to @StLouisGameTime for the idea while I'm bored at work.

11. Host an outdoor 3 on 3 tournament (good idea Frenchie).

10. Install tube technology to transport me from Scottrade to my house. Goodbye sober anything.

9. Open bar for section 307.

8. Film a Western/Swingers mashup movie starring Red Berensen Cowboy.

7. Sponsor a rec league team named "BLOOZOCKY".

6. Jilt people that have loved me for 11 years because they don't respect me.

5. Lifetime supply of zubaz for the Answer Man.

4. Donate a working escalator to the DrinkScotch under Mitch Hedberg's name.

3. Sugar glider giveaway night at a Blues game!!

2. Give SLGT a grant so they don't bitch about their obsession not being worth it every other article.

1. Buy the Blues and hit the east side with the change.

All right internet fellows. Beat these or add to them...

LGB!!

It has become abundantly clear that one of my fellow STHs girlfriend has angered the hockey gods.  Every game she attends the Blues lose.  Every game she was supposed to attend but can't for some reason they win.  As its unlikely that she stops coming to games (she has a partial pack of her own), she needs to do something to appease the hockey gods.  I am coming to this forum because we seem to have a plethora of creative and slightly deranged Blues fans so surely someone will have a good idea...

Thanks for the help and Fuck Detroit

Well after the Swingers Boyes Fanpost he picked up his game a little.  So lets try one for for Iceberg.  Rutherford says the Techoviking is playing too safe?  Maybe some clerks and metal will loosen him up.  That and this exchange between Olaf and Jay seems like something Oshie and Bergie would actually do to a girl...

				Oshie
		He's moving to the big city next
		week. He wants to be a metal singer.

				GIRL 1
		No way!

				Oshie
		Swear.
			(to Bergie)
		Bergie, metal!

	Iceberg makes a metal face.

				Oshie
		That's his fucking metal face.
			(to Bergie)
		Bergie, girls nice?

	Iceberg looks the girls up and down.

				Bergie
		Skrelnick.

				Oshie
			(laughs)
		That's fucked up.

									
				GIRL 1
		What did he say?

				Oshie
		I don't know, man. He's a fucking
		character.

				GIRL 2
		He really wants to play metal?

				Oshie
		He's got his own band in Vasteras.
		It's called "Fuck Your Yankee Blue
		Jeans" or something like that.

				GIRL 1
		That doesn't sound metal.

				Oshie
		You gotta hear him sing.
			(to Berglund)
		Bergie, "Berserker!"

	Techoviking laughs and shakes his head.

				OSHIE
		Come on, man, "Berserker!"

				GIRL 2
		Does he sing in English or Swedish?

				Oshie
		English.
			(to Berglund)
		Come on, "Berserker!" Girls think
		sexy.

				Berglund
			(relents)
		Da. Da.

				Oshie
		He's gonna sing it. This is too
		funny.

				Berglund
			(in broken English)
		MY LOVE FOR YOU IS LIKE A TRUCK
		BERSERKER! WOULD YOU LIKE SOME
		MAKING FUCK? BERSERKER!

				Oshie
			(laughing)
		That's fucking funny, man!

									
				GIRL 1
		Did he say "making fuck?"

				Oshie
		Wait, there's more.
			(to Berglund)
		Begie: sing...		

				Berglund
		MY LOVE FOR YOU IS TICKING CLOCK
		BERSERKER!WOULD YOU LIKE TO SUCK MY
		COCK? BERSERKER!
 Iceberg busts a crimson metal sneer and cackles deeply.

via workitmom.com

			    Boyes
                   I can't score... I am making a fool of
                   myself...

                             Happy Meal
                   Baby, don't talk that way, baby...

                             Walt
                   You are so money, and you don't even know
                   it...

                             Happy Meal
                   That's what I keep trying to tell him.
                        (to Boyes)
                   You're so money, you don't even know...

                             Boyes
                   Please, don't mess with me right now...

                             Happy Meal
                   We're not messing with you...

                             Walt
                   ... we're not...

                             Happy Meal
                   You're like this big beer with claws and
                   fangs...

                             Walt
                   ... and big fuckin' teeth...

                             Happy Meal
                   ... and teeth... And the goalie's like this
                   little bunny cowering in the corner...

                             Walt
                   ...shivering...

                             Happy Meal
                   ... And you're just looking at your claws
                   like "How do I kill this bunny?"...

                             Walt
                   ...You're just poking at it...

                             Happy Meal
                   ... Yeah.  You're just gently batting it
                   around... and the rabbit's all scared...

                             Walt
                   ... and you got big claws and fangs...

                             Happy Meal
                   ... and fangs... and you're like "I don't
                   know what to do.  How do I kill this
                   bunny?"...

                             Walt
                   ... you're like a big bear.

        Beat.  Boyes smiles.

                             Boyes
                   You're not just, like, fucking with me?

                             Happy Meal
                   No, baby!

                             Walt
                   ... honestly...

                             Happy Meal
                   ... you're money...

                             Walt
                   ... you're so fuckin mmmoney.

                             Happy Meal
                   Now go out there and get those goals.

                             Walt
                   You're money.

			    Happy Meal

                        (pulling him aside, dead
                        serious)
                   Now when you hit the ice, I don't want
                   you to be the guy in the PG-13 movie that
                   everyone's pulling for.  I want you to be
                   the guy in the rated R movie who you're
                   not sure if you like.

        Boyes nods and, energized by the bombardment, hops the boards and right into the fray...

Warning only read this if you need to kill some time at work and/or curious about how fucking stupid Mardi Gras made me.

This is a couple months coming so its time to face up.  My section mates have been mercilessly ridiculing me and I hope that by coming to this public forum it will at least ebb some of their abuse.

It was Mardi Gras and there was drinking.  My college aged little sister made me a Blues shirt for Christmas.  On the back of said shirt in giant Blue writing is "I (heart) Boyes". 

On this fateful night I took a girl to the game with an extra ticket from one of buddies.  She did not have a decent Blues shirt to speak of so I loaned her my beloved Boyes shirt.

There was a full day of drinking and debauchery leading up to the Blues game.  The game itself was a letdown 1-0 OT loss to Nashville (fuck them that point didn't help them much).  So we rejoined the Mardi Gras group at Maggie O's for drinks.

A couple of hours into the one of the most awkward white person dance parties ever, I am approached:

Having seen my date dancing around in what is now a thoroughly drink stained I heart Boyes shirt, a fellow Blues fan decides that he must acquire that shirt for his girlfirend.

Stranger:  I will give you 20 bucks for you Boyes shirt.

me: No way man my little sister made this for me its priceless.

Stranger:  I have to have that shirt.  Seriously how much for the shirt?

me: There is no amount of money. (At this point its appropriate to point out that sometimes while drinking I try to make grandiose gestures to make myself appear noble or awesome)

Stranger:  I will give 100 dollars for that shirt.

me: I'm sorry friend can't do it.  My sister made this for me its one of a kind.

The stranger then takes off his Backes jersey and proceeds to show me that it is in fact a GAME WORN DAVID BACKES JERSEY.

Stranger:  I will trade you this for that shirt straight up.

me:  Sorry my sister's love has no price.

I am a fucking idiot.  After that exchange I was sick to my stomach.  I am a fucking wreck.  I have dealt with death better than this.  I took several shots to calm myself about a decision I already knew was the wrong one.  When I told my sister about it, was impressed?  Not at all.  She called me an drunken ass and told me she could easily have replaced it with another one. Fucking shit it hurts to type this.

Since that day I have been waiting for Backes to appear out of thin air and end my life for the insult of turning down one of his jerseys.  I guess he is spending his time on the playoffs right now, but I have no doubt that I will feel his wrath whenever this run is done.

Oh well, feel free to berate me as I have been hearing it for a while now.  I am just happy I get to yell "How much time is left?"  at least 6 more times.

Go Blues!!

Here is a thank you to the writers of St Louis Game TIme for putting my friends and I in the scavenger hunt.  This was the second time this year somebody earnestly thanked me for booing the beejesus out an opposing team's fan.  Of course the first was a little better because some random old man bought us all beers for making 307 the least friendly Redwing location on the planet.  Feels good to be appreciated...