Kings Gameday: Food coma

Aside from having a gameday on New Year's Day to write about, this is probably my least favorite time to write a post. Obviously on New Year's Day I am hungover or am getting myself and fellow BoC bloggers berated on Twitter (it's a new holiday tradition) so writing seems miserable. With Thanksgiving however, I enter a period of time where I pass out for hours on end usually while watching sports all day.

And that's nothing compared to some other real patriots out there. You see, Thanksgiving is easily the most American holiday out there. We celebrate wiping out an indigenous people, gorge ourselves to the point of blacking out, then buy as much shit as humanly possible, feeding the corporate gods to no end even though they already own us. It's truly the best time of the year.

Except when the Kings decide to play hockey again. That fucks everything up for me. I don't actually leave my house to go shopping because I hate crowds, society, and people in generally. I do definitely prefer just eating and drinking all day though. I wind up acting King Robert from Game of Thrones minus the whoring around (at least not publicly. I don't want the Twitter militia on my ass for a second holiday). My svelte form bulges all the way up to a disgusting 155 pounds. I don't want to be writing while I have a food baby on the way.

So that's that. That's my post today. Keep eating and drinking you fat jerks.

Speaking of indigenous people getting wiped out, the Blackhawks are in town. They won't actually get wiped out, because they aren't an indigenous people, they just use their culture for sports. What will happen is a bunch of obese Midwesterners will wipe out the indigenous beautiful people of Los Angeles in the STAPLES Center crowd per usual (insert picture of bros flipping off Nashville at the end of the Kings game -here-).

The Whoa! Prediction: Crawford and Quick finally throw down. Quick whips off his blocker too violently however and dislocates his arm. Crawford trips over his weird oversized fish-lips. No fight occurs. Everyone boos.