Last night after my concert when I got into my car the score was 2-2. At the time I thought “Cool. I’ll get to watch the end of a feisty game at home before I go back out to meet my peeps for drinks.” In the time it took me to drive ONE (1) MILE, the Penguins scored three times. One mile. Three goals. The Sabres saved their meltdown so that I could fully experience it on my very short commute home from work.
Thank you ever so much, Sabres.
When I got out of my car at home, Blobby was waiting for me on the porch with a bottle of cheap red wine.
“Hey baby, long time no see! How was your summer?”
Is anyone else getting a sinking sort of deja vu feeling? The Sabres we’ve watched for the last ten games are awfully familiar, and not in a good way. The last time I remember feeling this way was right before Blobby stole my credit cards and used them to play online poker for three straight days. He finally stopped when I threatened to call his parole officer, but by then it was too late to make the playoffs get my money back.