Well I had this idea....but it's all over now.

I was ready to do up a nice big April Fool's joke and turn the Virtual 'Cue Shack into a Red Wings slobberblog for a day, complete with lots of fangirling about how much I adore the team, the town, and (most of all) the hundreds of fans that grace the RBC Center with their wonderfully friendly presence every time the Wings come to R'lyeh.

And then my sigmoid colon leaped up to viciously throttle the shit out of my cerebellum in a desperate attempt to save mankind, and that (thankfully) ended that idea.

You have no idea how painful it was for me to even think of writing the last part of that first paragraph, by the way. My hands attempted to fly to my throat of their own accord and choke the life out of me for merely considering changing my blog to that load of complete and total horse-dookies over the other idea I had, which was to turn my site into an NC-17 festival of clever semi-pr0nographic photochops featuring me in compromising positions with a certain tattooed and chin-pubed birthday boy who beats down all and sundry in the name of the Calgary Flames. Complete with background and cutesy netspeak and all the other assorted fangirlish trappings.

Which would have been a very nice (if delusional) April Fool's joke (and birthday wish to my favorite April Fool*)--but this lottery stuff that I had to deal with at work the last two days has got me so beat down that I couldn't do more than a picture-post the other night when the 'Canes clinched the division while I was down at Stop-n-Rob showing my twitchy Nepali co-worker how to validate winning tickets and give people their money so they could buy more cheap beer and even cheaper blunts (and, of course, more lottery tickets).

Which is sad, when you think about it--but in a way, it's kind of its own April Fool's joke (and far more clever than Golbez's cheese-ass attempt to fool his readers into thinking that he'd turned to the Dark Swedish side.

*:I'm 100% positive that Darren McCarty doesn't read STB&B--but what the hell. It's the thought that counts.