This Is Just A Test...
Want to test out the functionality of the Facebook Blog Network RSS Feed.
Instead of boring you with solely a test, here's a story untold from the Bruins game the other night. It wasn't withheld on purpose, blame my memory, conscience .... and Samuel Adams.
As we were leaving the Garden, I noticed someone behind me speaking with a British accent. Now, anyone who's ever traveled/got really drunk/traveled whilst drunk with me, knows that alcohol triggers my strong desire to seek out all accents.
I won't bore you with the details of my linguistic prowess, but I'm good with accents and do very well in foreign countries. Its only while drinking that I try to show off my skills in a local setting. Exhibit A: On the cab ride home from Tommy Doyle's one time, I began to speak Creole with our Haitian cabbie (thanks Randolph Public Schools!) Additionally, I spoke (broken) English with a French accent for the entire ride home. I have no idea why.
I hear this British accent behind me leaving the Garden, and, obviously I have to say something.
I say, "Did you have a good time?" (the well-being of visitors in my fair city is very important to me... unless they're Yankee fans.)
And he said he had an excellent time... then i embarrassed myself.
I asked him if he was from Australia.... then South Africa... then finally England. Katelyn got excited because she's a bigger Anglophile than Perez Hilton and kinda saved the conversation, but not to be outdone, I let out this gem,
"Ah, England. Also the origin of Lord Stanley's Cup!"
What the fuck is wrong with me? I mean, it did originate there, but who the hell refers to it as "Lord Stanley's Cup" and brings it up in casual conversation with Britons aside from asshole writers?