Hilarious the more I think about it, that the year the Canucks legitimately look like a Cup contender for the first time in a decade, with the entire roster, including their healthy scratches & popcorn vendors being at the All star game, and this place is a ghost town.
Cant wait till they lose in game 7 on home ice, with a 4-0 lead after two periods in the Stanley Cup finals, and reading about the riots here, through the 1 post made every 3 hours. It will be like the good old days, when you had to wait for the carrier pigeon to bring you the update, then head back to the news station to get another update, and head back to you. His name was Carl, but he didnt know his name, because he was a pigeon, but he did know the sound of french fries hitting the ground, and occasionally your news would be delayed because some poor kid dropped a fry as he was sneaking some from a bag that his mom just bought him at McDonalds, but he couldnt wait till he got in the car to start eating them, so he snuck some out, only to drop one, and Carl swooped in to get it, the kid, horrified by his mistake, tried to steal it from Carl, when his mother turned around, saw the ruckus, and yelled "Carl, just leave it", and both Carl, and the child, whose name was Frank but his mother preferred calling him Carl...which wasnt even his middle name, that was Zeus, looked up at her and left the fry there. Some hours later, after gnawing on some gum that had been run over several times between chunks of asphalt, Carl remembered he had to deliver the news to his customer, when he got there, he heard a familiar voice, it was the mother of Frank, and he realized all this time, she did not know the difference between him and her child, so she called both of them Carl. Carl sat there, now aware he was so unimportant to the person he delivered valuable news updates that she couldnt be bothered to give him his own name, a single pigeonman tear formed in the corner of his eye.... that was when Frank came up behind him with his has fry in hand, and went "you can have this Carl." Carl took his wing, wiped away the tear, gobbled up the now fairly cold fry. Moments later, he crapped on Franks head, because birds dont know etiquette like dont crap on the person who feeds you.