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Contributed by resident Movie Quote Game aficionado, Tilt’d Toledo


…Da din-din-din da-da-duh…
…Da din-din-din da-da-duh…

Just take those old records off the shelf
I’ll sit and listen to them by myself
Today’s music ain’t got the same soul
sssscreeeechhhh

From left: Tilt'd, Jibblescribbette and Jibbles on their way to the Winter ClassicUm, sorry. I’m now being told that I have the wrong movie….ummmm pardon me while I go put on some pants….

OK, I’m back. Now where was I? Oh yeah.

Bueller….Bueller….Bueller….oh I know, just a sec….OK there.

Danke Schöen, darling, danke schöen
Thank you for all the joy and pain


Um, sorry. Now I’m being told to stop singing, altogether. It’s just as well. I have so many other pop references to address from that warm er encouraging brief introduction. Let me start off by saying that Robin has always been misunderstood. All the poor kid wanted was a roof over his head and three squares a day. It’s not like he’s the one who designed his outfit or anything. If anyone’s a little light in the loafers, I’d look no further than Alfred. And as far as my vague recollections of Sega Genesis go, wasn’t playing as Tails what everyone wanted to do? I mean, I could always reach for my beer, smoke a cigarette, answer the phone, whatever. I still got to tag along anytime I fell off-camera. And on those bonus levels, with the giant waterless waterslides, I had fewer epileptic attacks when staring at the bottom of the split screen. The most flattering description, however, has to be the comparison to Wimpy. Who wouldn’t gladly eat burger after burger – and always on credit – than a can of raw spinach? I can’t even imagine what canned spinach would look like, let alone how it tastes. And frankly, I’ll take wearing a suit and tie, topped with a brown bowler hat, over the Robin costume anyday, so Wimpy it is.


So our friendly host is off for the weekend with the lovely Jibblewife (I’m sure she just luuuuvs being called that). Once I get all of these formalities out of the way, I should probably get down to talkin’ hockey. Therefore, only a brief word about myself. Some of you may remember me from such blogs as “Hockey: The Other White Sport” and “Troy McClure, We Hardly Knew Ye”. I have been writing about hockey since the days when COMSAT owned the franchise and have been writing exclusively about the Avs since the days when Milan Hejduk had only 300 career goals. My own playing career came to an abrupt halt the day I failed to get drafted into the The biggest, most badass-est Av of all timeQMJHL and decided, completely coincidentally by the way, that I didn’t want to “keep playing anyway ‘cause I got better things to do with my time than stupid, stupid hockey”. You might say that I retired due to a broken heart. Fortunately, I soon recovered in time to make a killing running my high school playoff pool. This was, however, bad news for Jimmy Tetreault, who didn’t feel like paying up until he got turned into mincemeat in front of everybody in the smoking area, with a little move I had learned from Peter Worrell.

Enough about all that, though. With old man Jibbles heading out the door any minute, it’s time to start celebrating Tilt’d Toledo’s Day Off. Be sure to check back in the next while for some actual hockey news. If I can limit the weekend bender to a day or two, I’ll surely have something up that’s worth reading before I have to roll back the odometer on this puppy and republish a cleaner version of my Lindros Scandal story that was yanked after Eric’s attorneys issued that injunction. Oops. I forgot the first clause of the injunction, which stipulated that “at no time shall either of the parties, expressly or otherwise, make reference to, either directly or indirectly, said injunction”.

My bad. I also once talked about Fight Club.