Saturday, November 28, 2009

YEAHHHHH!!!!!!! uh, wait.

(For best results read while listening to Westside Connection's "Bow Down")

I received this email recently:

Howdy sir, love your site. I read about the WNY hockey expo coming to town this past weekend and clicked on a link to their site. There is a banner at the top with hilarity attached to it. I have attached that photo.

Stew

Now, I know the main focus of SJB is to knock on "customized" Sabres jerseys. However every once and a great while we run into such an inexplicable abomination it simply begs to to get pissed on. On that note, what the fuck is happening here? Is it one of the worst Photoshop jobs of all time or two of the dumbest assholes in the history of screaming and waving their arms in the air? (That's a long, boring list. I've seen it.) A few key factors point to the former. Firstly, there are obviously Ottawa Senators jerseys. If you hate the "SENS" as much as you should- you should notice that fairly quickly. One of the clues to those not in the loop is the dude on the right having a fucking SENATORS logo on his jersey. The dude on the left still has a semi visible logo however it's easy to be distracted by his super tight goatee and backwards hat combo that clearly says: "Yeah, I deliver pizzas. You got a fucking problem fag?". There's another clue pointing to a someone at Perry's having a basic knowledge of Photoshop and an advanced problem with drinking a hip flask of Old Crow in the shitter before work every day. It's the fact that there has never been a Senators jersey with blue in it. It's just not one of their God damn colors. Now, I've seen crooked up ass ghetto fuck up misprint jerseys at the dirt mall but no fan of not getting hit in the head with a half empty bottle of Steel Reserve would leave their mom's basement rockin' that bonk gear. Also, What is with the hastily thrown in Sabretooth cover up bullshit? Why not cover both logos? Why not cover the entire logo if you're gonna cover it at all? What a clusterfuck? The best question is why did this dogshit have to go down in the first place? Is there a shortage of drunk idiots in Buffalo wearing actual Sabres shit screaming and acting like total fuckfaces? Not last time I checked. I just don't get it. Someone over a Perry's needs to get fired. Actually, before that goes down I could really use a case of Nutty Buddies. Not to eat but to hand out to the homeless people that swarm me when I leave my house. You know, to change it up a little.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

AAAAAAAAND WE'RE BACK!

Good day all. I know many have been emailing me much as you usually do when I don't post for a while. My only response is chill the fuck out. I didn't feel like it. Now I do. Being that I am in the correct frame of mind to give this shit at least 72%, I can once again get sick. OH, and I'll do my best to throw at least one a week up from here on out so my in box isn't full of whiny emails from people who have less to do than I do. As an added feature this season I will add a note on the bottom of each post suggesting a musical selection that will delicately compliment the post much like a like a light pinot noir compliments roast duck.
*Deep breath* POOS MAN *barely audible whimpering sigh*. Wow. This sucks Sasquatch balls. My first reaction is that this poor bastard is probably a member of the faceless, emasculated zombie army you see everywhere. The old "balls in the purse" dude. This is one of the more rare sightings if it is. It's a special kind of sick jersey indeed. It's the kind your girlfriend gets you because she thinks it's so fucking cute and you can't possibly not wear for fear of all of your vagina privileges disappearing like Criss Angel's arm in a dude's ass. It's the kind of jersey she (in this case POO) gives you for Christmas and you have to grit your teeth, fight back the tears of anger/ disappointment, and give a half assed "No, no. I love it honey. It's fucking sweet. I love you. This is aaaawesome." Then, in order to keep said privileges in tact you have to actually wear the fucking thing in the goddamn arena while buying a hot pretzel and a small Bud Light. (see above photo). Now I can tell you no vagina on earth is worth this type of humiliation. But that call is totally up to you hoss. I mean fish in the sea and all that shit. I'm just bringing it to your attention. The other option is that this dude digs eating actual shit. Whether he's doing it figuratively or literally, he still doing it. Seriously. Sick bro.

For best reading please accompany with Pantera's "Slaughtered"

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Pomer, oi, oi, oi!

It has come to my attention people have simply not been paying attention. For example, this little beauty here breaks every single rule about jersey "customization" that you possibly can besides having like five fucking names on there or getting a bouquet of rubber dicks hot glued to the arms. The real fun here is you aren't 100% sure how it's fucked up- I'll explain. Now I know I've said it before and I know for a fact I'll have to mention it at least thirty more times (based on the unused shit I still have chilling in my in box) but you really shouldn't use a number that doesn't correspond to the player name on said jersey. That being said, and I know I'm demolishing a dead horse here, but the one known quantity we are working with here is the number 16. If you want to be a smart ass you could say that it belonged to Chris Taylor, Darrin Shannon, Mike Donnelly, Paul Brydges, Ric Seiling, Derek Smith, Peter McNab, Real Lemieux, Randy Wyrozub, Ron Anderson or Butch Deadmarsh. You would also be correct. A total fuckface, but correct. It is obviously retired for Patty LaFontaine. It is obviously NOT retired for Pomeroy, which in my approximation is either one of the standard sick jersey faux pas (the person's actual last name) or the even more insidious combo of two existing player's names on one jersey. I'll let you figure out who those two are. HINT it's not Vanek and Afinogenov. Sadly, we've already covered that one. If it's not her -and I hope it's a her- last name then it is just a little douchier because of the "Pommer" nicknamy part of it in the combo that was downright stupid to begin with. Pommer, your penance is to cram your head in one of the sewer grates near the front parking lot at the HSBC that smells like some hellish Sysyphean torment involving Roseanne era John Goodman's colon. You have to huff with your mouth open for as long as it takes one standard dude to get a large beer during the intermission. So, like about a half hour. Enjoy.

Friday, August 21, 2009

O.K., O.K., Shut up already.


So I've been getting a bunch of angry emails about how I haven't posted a jersey pretty much all summer. So, here you go you sons of bitches. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN I BRING YOU (drumroll) ......... Pogmothion! This little slice of heaven took a little bit of research. I would love to believe Pogmothion is just this fartbag's actual last name or a reference to his favorite Pokemon character. Alas, after burning the midnight oil deep in the bowels of the vast, Castlevania like Sick Jersey Bro archives I have discovered the stupid truth. This sick jersey is simply a typo. An annoying and unfunny typo, but a typo none the less. The correct Gaelic phrase is póg mo thóin. Pronounced in English as something along the lines of “pogue mahone”, it translates to kiss my ass. As classy and appropriate that is all by it self, it takes on an extra level of tact and refinement when you go ahead and strap it on the jersey of beloved doughnut tycoon/ horrifying car accident victim, Tim Horton. Way to piss in the collective double double of good coffee and hockey fans everywhere. It's like getting a Dan Snyder Thrashers jersey with "suck my dick" spelled incorrectly in Russian on the back -IF he owned a wildly successful restaurant chain AND had his jersey retired by his team out of respect. Very thoughtful. Very sick.Snyder, DaThrashers

Hey, you fuckers ever heard of Facebook?


Hello again. As we here at SJB prepare for the start of yet another NHL season, the decision was made to finally get down with the "Face books" that all the kids won't shut up about. By kids I obviously mean your aunt Tammy and your mom's Boyfriend Frank. Seeing as how Myspace is now just about as cool as sending someone a telegram about Friendster, we've made the move. I'm sure this will set your collective loins afire with social media anticipation. Hey, if it makes it easier for you guys to send in sick jerseys, then so be it. So, friend us or whatever the fuck they call it. To tell you the truth, I can't tell what the fuck is even going on on Facebook. I think I just took a quiz about famous poodles in 80's teen comedies while signing up for a Seth Rogan fan club and getting "poked" by a chick from my 10th grade study hall. It's like some bizarre Freudian nightmare that sends you email updates. Enjoy the rest of your summer! Just keep your fingers crossed that Pat Kane doesn't get all fucked up on the Chip strip and cave your skull in over 20 cents in loose change. Now go get em'.

GET YOUR FACEBOOK ON MOTHERFUCKER!

Friday, June 26, 2009

SICK NHL DRAFT BRO!


So after an excellent little summer vacation SJB returns to briefly comment on the skull crushing excitement is the NHL draft. GET YOUR POUTINE READY! Let's be honest. The NHL draft has about as much meaning to casual hockey fans as a rerun of two an a half men. There are only a hand full of kids out there who will make any significant impact before 2012, and by then it won't matter as the surface of what we now call "Earth" will undoubtedly be violently transformed into a stark, lava raped hell scape devoid of all life- and I presume, NHL hockey. However, there are some real deal hardcore dudes out there who actually care about the draft. So here is what you need to know: John Tavares went to the Island. And yes to Bandits fans- he is related to that John Tavares. The only difference being that after today one of the two will be able to afford a 1992 Chevy Astrovan and the other is the greatest scorer in indoor lacrosse history. Word is the Sabres are aiming for either Zack Kassian, Brayden Schenn or Evander Kane. In other words a hard nosed no bullshit type grinder that can score. The bad news is that we won't see the payoff until sometime well into Jeb Bush's second term. My only hope is that our draft picks spawn many a sick jersey for our children and our children's children. Unless the Mayans were right.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Twit It or Quit it.


I know full well my lack of output is troubling to many in the sick jersey bro nation. The season has officially ended (the worst way possible) and I am kind of over the whole jersey thing for the time being. If you crave more awesomeness please feel free to follow the official Sick Jersey Bro Twitter feed. It may not be all that Sabres related but it will be funny and updated all the time.

http://twitter.com/sickjerseybro

Get some.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

I'm done.

I love the Sabres. I love them in a way I can't explain with words. What they did this season could be best described with one word- fart. What a waste of time. This is what Big Lou is all about. A huge waste of time. I can understand that his fat Italian mother loves him. Maybe his boss at the water authority loves him. But what he is not achieving is awesomeness. We all have to act like we love a hockey team that lives in it's mother's basement. Why do we care so very much? Why do you love your uncle Stan? Because you can't be unrelated to him. This team is the skating embodiment if the new peace bridge that was never built. Just like the gaping hole in the side of what used to be the War Memorial Auditorium, We have all accepted the fact that what should be beautiful is disgusting. This Sabres team is just as bullshit as every fat loser that wears a jersey to the premier of Paul Blart: Mall Cop. I'm sure this fartface did. Good job "Big Lou". You have made a poignant and lasting allegory. You turd.

P.S. I just got the 69 joke.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

What The Fuck Bro?

What we have here is some fart box who is trying to ride the lucrative customized jersey blog train. With his hilarious "Jersey Fouls" my main man "Puck Daddy" is slicing and dicing the world of "fouled" up jerseys with his insightful and cutting wit. Let it be known that I claim no exclusive rights on making fun of retards. That is a beautiful gift from God that no one can take from us or have possession of (like the magic in a unicorn's horn). With that being said and with the full knowledge that Sick Jersey Bro has been at this shit for over a year, I submit to you that my issue with "Puck Daddy" is not that he ripped off my idea but in it's (much like retarded criminals in Texas) sloppy execution.
Seriously. What is the deal with the name? Jersey Fouls? Come on. Jesus. I assume this dude gets paid to write and this is what he comes up with? Why not just totally mail it in and call it Bad Jerseys? Maybe Silly Sweaters? Let this be a lesson to all the Sick Jersey Bro faithful out there that sometimes having an extra cup of coffee, rolling up your sleeves, and giving it 100% never killed anyone. I get emails all the time about my lack of updates. Did anyone break Darwin's balls about quickly cranking out The Origin Of Species? With each and every post I slave to achieve the perfection I know my intelligent, erudite, and presumably Ivy League educated readership demands of me. Let me tell you giving 110% is mathematically impossible but at least 20% is mandatory to blog. Christ, you have to give like 18% just to roll out of the rack in the morning. In this case I'd like to see the "Daddy" bump it up to somewhere around 50%. Just for starters.
Am I also the only one that is troubled by the fact that "Fouls" occur in basketball, baseball, and a number of other sports besides hockey? If the intent was to have a sports reference in the title I submit that a hockey reference would have been way cooler. Speaking of cool, I will give "Puck Daddy" some kudos for his hip devil may care look and presumably, attitude. I mean- dig the shades and cigar. It's like an in your face double shot of cool. Deftly combining the look of Stevie Wonder and the smell of Rush Limbaugh was a stroke of genius. This guy is no interweb nerd just because he blogs. Be sure of that.
I firmly believe that with the dutiful tutelage of the Sick Jersey Bro nation, we can help this lost soul. So, be a trooper and do what "P.Diddy" (that's just a bit hipper) himself suggests: email him tips and stories that he should know about at puckdaddyblog@yahoo.com. Let him know what you think, especially if one of those thoughts is that his nick name is a rip off of a dude famous for ripping off other people. Just an idea. Good luck.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

I Know It's Dark........

........but believe me, it blows. It's another #11 and unless it's a total train wreck of a Curtis Brown joint, this jersey is sicker Patrick Swayze. Oh, and it's a slug. This guy really has it all. The correspondent who sent this in really nailed it. With the pic he also sent this beautifully concise note:

"How fucking generic can you get? What a DOMTAR. (Factory that smells like whale fart in Johnsonburg, pa)"

I think that pretty much sums it up.

-Thanks Ryne.

Penalty Box? Really? Penalty Box.


I assume this is some sort of astute commentary on Al Kotalik taking penalties. Well. It's not funny and its sucks dick big time. I'll never understand these dudes who feel it's their job to criticize the Sabres via some hilarious jersey or some shit. Why not get a totally sick tattoo of Kotalik shooting it wide? What about having your cousin Greg hook you up with a super awesome paintjob on the hood of your car featuring Max overskating the puck or giving it away in the neutral zone? Lucky for you Al is gone and you can move on to the next hilarious comment on the Sabres. I can't fucking wait. Break a leg Seinfeld.

Not Quite Sick, But.......

O.K. Dave Snuggerud really played for the Sabres. And believe you me, I got just a big of a kick out of his goofy ass name as the next asshole. Without being officially sick- this jersey violates one of the main tenets of jersey sickness. Mainly, a proper player on the improper jersey. Come on dude. You know Dave never played in a slug jersey. I'm glad he didn't. I'm pretty sure he's glad he didn't either. Either way, for all the fans of classic Sabres out there, get the jersey that corresponds to the player of your choosing. Or you will look like an asshat. I guess it's still not as bad as it could have been.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

NEW EMAIL ADDRESS DUDES!



Please, I have been inundated with so many sick jerseys as of late that I have decided to start a new email to help with the traffic. From here on out all sick jerseys shall be sent here. Make it so.

sickjerseybro@gmail.com

learn it.

love it.

use it.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

...And Lead Us Not Into Timtation, But Deliver Us From Sickness, Amen.






A temptation is an act that looks appealing to an individual. It is usually used to describe acts with negative connotations and as such, tends to lead a person to regret such actions, for various reasons: legal, social, psychological (including feeling guilt), health, economic, etc. Temptation also describes the coaxing or inducing a person into committing such an act, by manipulation or otherwise of curiosity or desire.
Sounds a lot like the process of creating a sick jersey. The doubt. The lonliness. The slightly sickening rush of adrenalin. It's the kind of feeling you got when you hammered out that super fat chick that stunk of fryer grease and shorted Salem ultra lights. The lies you tell yourself to justify the horror are as obvoious and disgusting as the grimy, drenched tube socks she left in your mom's Geo Tracker. But you HAD TO FUCKING DO IT. Life is gingerly decorated with the slimy, nearly imperceptable film of these moments. I never meant to dissect this shit on this level but c'mon-that is just one hell of a sick jersey. So sick in fact, that three different sick jersey bro field correspondents sent me pics of the same dude in one night. (a first)
For the life of me I just cannot figure out what the hell this fuck face is going for. Is his name Tim? Occam's razor would seem to suggest so. But if that is the case what is he "timted" by? Himself? Is he assuming that he is "timting" to others? Is it a Connelly thing? Is his name Justin and he's actually alluding to the gnawing "timtation" he has reguarding a certian hot piece of ass in accounts receivable? You know, the one with the super tight goatee? The one he accidently brushed up against at the company party at IV Stallions and then spent seven hours in the Dave's Christmas World bathroom crying his boner away? The likelihood is that no one will ever find out. Like releasing a trophy Marlin back into the Gulf of Mexico, or saying goodbye to a loved one- we here at sick jersey bro would like to hold tight the sweet memory of "TIMTATION", and in doing so, allow this beautiful creature to truly roam free, wherever Jesus may lead him. Godspeed you georgous dipshit.
P.S. I just got the 69 joke. Well played. I see what you were going for. *slow creepy wink*

Sunday, February 8, 2009

I got 73 problems and Dorociak is one.

I'm really tired today. That shootout really took it out of me. I don't feel like writing shit today. So, I was debating whether to not post anything. I finally decided to just throw this fucker up and like lazy parents across the nation, let you use your imagination to entertain yourself. So. Good luck. Post some sweet burns if you think you are up to it. I'll be waiting.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Big Willy Style

Here is an excellent example of a phenomena we've seen before. Thanks to my man Matt for the heads up. It's the somewhat rare nickname sick jersey. Of course your run of the mill jerkoff could simply ruin a perfectly good jersey with his God given name, but what fun is that? To all the Lefty's, Tiny's, and Big (fill in the blank)'s out there- I say thank you. Now the nickname your unemployed, alcoholic stepfather Daryll tortured you with on Christmas morning '91 can be the catalyst for untold (and undoubtedly) positive feedback from your unemployed, alcoholic bar league volleyball team. One side note to the nickname crowd out there clamoring to hit the Sabres store and get your "Grumpy" or "Shitneck" jersey or whatever, make sure you:
(A) Use a slug jersey. They suck the most.
(B) Use one of the most famous numbers in Sabres history if you want it extra sick.
Dominik Hasek works great as BIG WILL here was kind enough to demonstrate. Now really go out there make us all proud you glorious retards.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Calcadora the Explorer

As per the Yahoo online English- Spanish Dictionary:

Calc a dor (-do ra) - m. & f. (person) tracer, copier m. (instrument) tracer
Inflected Forms: calcadoras - femi
calcadores - masc

To be honest I'm not totally sure how that definition applies. Maybe it's that he's copying a shitty thing he saw done to a jersey. Either way, this beauty came to me hot off the presses from my man in the Honda Center in Anaheim. Word on the street from the 'heim is that Sabres sick jerseys are everywhere. Like for real. Apparently due to the lack of a primarily deep fried cheese, deep fried meat, beer, shots of Crown, and deep fried dough diet, Cali Sabres fans are far quicker (and thusly harder to photograph) than their Buffalo counterparts. Luckily the flight of the Calcador (after pounding a shot of wheat grass and some pan seared ahi with garlic asiago pea snaps) was preserved in all its So-Cal Sabres Glory. To be honest, I'm just super pumped that there are tons of Buffalo dudes representing in the 714. HOWEVER. That does not mean your sick jerseys still don't suck mucho burro schlong. They do. bad. So there.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

CAPTMAYHEM!!!!!!!!!!!

Woah! CAPTMAYHEM is carrying the torch in the tradition of great Cap'n's such as Crunch, Stubing, Obvious, America, and Ron. With his steady hand upon the wheel of clinically idiotic decisions, CAPTMAYHEM steers the good ship Schlongbreath on a true course to the safe harbor of the last row of the 300's (on the end where the Sabres shoot once). What most average civilians may not know is that prior his promotion to CAPT, he was better known as LIEUTENIANTCOMMANDERPANDEMONIUM and previous to that, ENSIGNDISORDER. As you can see he has really moved up. This has everything to do with his uncanny ability to combine the innate discipline, structure, and order of military service with the "mayhem" of rooting for the Sabres, making shitty custom jerseys, and drinking airline size bottles peppermint schnapps behind the half finished casino on the opposite side of the parking ramp before the game with some party animals he met online. WWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! FFFUCKKKHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Winter Storms Warning!

What with the oppressive and seemingly endless snow and cold we have experienced lately in the Buffalo, now seems like the right time for a cutesy theme post! What do the weather and this sick jersey have in common? Can you guess the tie in? If you said both are exactly as cool as sliding a small glass rod in your urethra and then smashing your penis with a cinder block, you would be correct! Congratulations!

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Yeah. That says Yashin.


What could possibly explain this? Was this whale fart huffing diesel fuel? I never thought I would say this, but (deep breath in) I really hope that's their last name on the back of that Vanek jersey. Because if it's not....... That's just fucking retarded. One of the biggest disappointments in NHL history. That's bad enough. It's like that tub of shit you see walking into Buffalo wild wings with a Ryan Leaf jersey. Except its on a Bills jersey. And it has barf with tiny chunks of Cheetos on it. What amount of baby shaking produces a brain capable of such tomfoolery? Yeah I said tomfoolery! I am freaking the fuck out. Listen. I'm gonna make a cocktail and sit down for a minute. Just continue to stare in awe. I have nothing else to say.

P.S. I lied. This jersey should be set on fire and put out with a fifty gallon drum of hobo piss. Now I'm done.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Best dad #1!


As all real sick jersey fans know, we have seen the #1 dad. This shit isn't like that. This is the #1 BEST dad. WAYYYYYYYYY different. This is the single greatest father to ever walk the earth. Now, I understand that if I were a father and my children bought me this jersey, I would be moved and cherish the thought behind the jersey. But who the fuck are kids to rate the excellence of anything? They are innately inexcellent. They think mac and cheese with hot dog chunks is the best meal humans can muster. Kids can barely keep themselves from eating crayons. The truth is, you only have one father. If he's cool, he's John F. Kennedy meets Zeus times Voltron awesome. How can we really trust them? But what if "best dad" bought the jersey for himself? Is there a real chance of that? Could you, in good conscience, wear a jersey that said ACCOUNTANT #1? To be sure, it's just shitty to brag. Even if you believe it is true. But BEST ACCOUNTANT #1? Wow. That is a leap. BEST DAD #1. So, out of every dude on the planet, this dude is the best dude who has had children................ever. Congrats best dad. You are sick as shit.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Ritz bitz.



Can you believe this either? It is totally sick. Maybe the sickest ever. It's a triple on one dude. I can't tell if this or the recent trip Dubke is superior. I'm leaning towards this fartbox. I mean, even by conservative estimates he's spent around $500.00 putting "Ritz" on three different eras of Sabres jerseys. Not to mention he committed the cardinal sin using Perrault's number. They don't let other players use that number. Now doing Hecht like that is one thing. But Gilbert. Come on Ritzy. you are sooooooooooooooooooooo sick. (On a side note, do you know how hard it is for me not to make golden, buttery, flaky cracker jokes?) Henceforth, let all other other pretenders know that your personal sick jerseyness pales in comparison to the "Ritz". Maybe the sickest of all time.

NEWS FLASH! Time Travel Achieved!

Is that.....It..........OMG! It IS! Its the Great One! #99 HEWRYLCZAK! Not to mention his boy M.Harvey! Holy fucking shit! Did these dipshits fly through some 1999 time warp to the glittering and metropolitan Buffalo of ten years later? Listen guys, We have a black mayor, a black president, and our colors are blue and gold again. I'm fully aware that's a lot to take in especially because I can't drive to Cleveland without bitching and moaning like a three year old, so I can only imagine what the rigors of time travel can do to you. In the case of HEWRYLCZAK, well, what can you say? Putting that name on anything seems like a bad decision. It looks like a phonetic translation of the noise Saddam Hussein made when they hung him. and M. Harvey? Is there a S. Harvey or D. Harvey we should be on the lookout for? I actually would prefer a Paul Harvey jersey but no one younger that my Grandma would get the reference. Either way, thanks for the clarification and the history lesson about sick jerseys of yesteryear.

What is it?

At first glance you might think what we have here is the return of "Lovas" from a few months ago. You would be tragically wrong. This is a great example of how the simple "hooded sweat shirt" or "hoodie" as the kids call it, is the enemy of properly enjoying a good sick jersey. Is it Lovat? What about Luvat? Who the fuck knows? I personally believe the word of Sickjerseybro.com has spread and they are begining to retreat in shame. Either that or it was cold or some shit. Grant Ledyard is still very, very dissapointed in you. *wagging finger*

Saturday, January 3, 2009

A Win(chell) Win(chell) situation!

Assholes are hitting doubles and triples like Ricky Henderson up in this motherfucker lately. I'm convinced that It's only a matter of time before we see a five banger. Like a whole team. In the case of the Winchells here we see that they both dig the slug, went for a "home and away" motif, and both have apparently never heard of Pat LaFontaine. Is this like a new right of passage for newly married couples in the Western New York area? I think it goes like this: Meet at Macaroon's, Get Married, buy a house in Cheektowaga, get matching sick jerseys, shit out the next generation of sick jerseys. They are seriously everywhere. The best part is that they can't see how preposterous it looks. Here is my equation for sickness: (Pat LaFontaine's number) + (jersey he never played in) + (Your own name x2). But like Gandhi said, “Anyone who sees and paints a sky green and fields blue ought to be sterilized." Uh, oops, actually that was Hitler. My Bad.