Hello and welcome to my special report I entitled: “Hanging With Milan: A Suspension Sensation”. For those who are just crawling out from underneath their rock, Milan Lucic was suspended today for his shoulder to shoulder hit on one of this douchey Flyers. I think it was that Renaldo guy who should be playing soccer anyway. Due to his suspension, the NHL called Milan and told him not to worry about showing up to the game tonight, in fact for the Montreal Canadiens sake, they forbade it.
Now, most of you out there would probably think that Milan would sit home and watch the game on his 117″ 3D plasma screen TV that dispenses Diet Cherry Coke (since they don’t carry Cherry Coke in Canada) while his hot as balls girlfriend walks about the apartment in nothing but a 2011 Stanley Cup banner cape. That couldn’t be further from the truth. In my exclusive Days of Y’Orr exclusive, I called the 23 year old Vancouver-ite? Vancouverian? Anyways, I called him and knew I had to take his mind of off last night’s events. This is how it went down:
Milan said that he would come pick me up and asked if I had my drinking shoes on. I told him that I don’t wear shoes. I waited for Lucic to come get me and he sent me a text message when he pulled up. “OMG HEER BRO!” was all it said. I walked outside and waiting for me was Milan in a horse drawn carriage. I didn’t know whether to be excited I would ride around Boston smelling fake flowers and horse shit or to be nervous that I was going to get hit on later.
The first place we stopped at was called LA-Z-ER TAG. Milan and I walked up and he started staring down some little pumpkin shaped chap wearing a Ryan Miller jersey.
“I hate that kid. Every time me and Horty come here, he beats me. Every. Time.”
He also gave the kid the finger.
Milan and I walked up to the counter and spoke to the acne-laden lad. He looked familiar.
“Phil?” I asked without hesitation. He looked surprised.
“Uh, hey guys,” He said. “I need your names for laser tag.”
“Puss Prince.” I said. Milan looked him dead in the eyes.
“Champion.” He said as Phil fumbled with the keyboard. We walked over to the containment room and put on our laser tag gear. Milan was too busy staring down the 6 year old boy to hear what the conductor of the match was saying. We got into the large room and scattered while music played overhead. Our guns beeped down to one and we started. Milan was on his game. He started shooting people left and right, notching points for chest and shoulder shots. Suddenly, he came to a stop and looked in front of him.
“Purrgy, it’s him.”
The kid went to shoot me, but Lucic ran through him and screamed “NO FUCKS GIVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!”
We got kicked out. Milan and I needed something to do.
After the jump, let’s do some shit!...
We decided to get a North Shore staple to eat, some Kelly’s Roast Beef. Man, that’s some good beef. We could get one though because Milan said he was “suspended without pay”, I think he’s a lying cheap fuck.
Anyways, we he housed that and then headed out to do some clubbing. Before we headed back to his place to change, he stopped for coffee at a Starbucks.
“Hi, can I get a venti iced triple espresso shot white chocolate mocha, nonfat milk with whipped topping and a swirl of eggnog, cinnamon and sugar? Oh, and don’t screw it up.” He stated to the young lass at the drive-thru. She told him to pull up. We pulled up to the window and the lady leaned through.
“Hi, that’ll be $15.40.” She stated as Lucic looked at her.
“Don’t you know who I am? Put it on the Bruins tab!” He said.
“The Bruins?” She asked. “What’s the Bruins?!”
“What the fu…Lady, DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!” He yelled again as I reached over with my credit card. The woman swiped it as Milan tried to calm down. She brought him back his coffee and he looked at it.
“This is a grande!” He said as he started to turn red. “I ASKED FOR A MOTHER FUCKING VENTI!” He yelled as he threw the coffee through the drive-thru window. All of a sudden two police cars swarmed us and grabbed Milan and put handcuffs around him.
“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!” he kept screaming as they put him in the car.
Stranded, I walked home and shit on Dewey Square.
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