Sex On Ice

(Or - possibly - Better Than Sex)

I hit upon these couple of thoughts early into the first period of the Russia vs. Latvia game.

Because, see, watching those Russians skate and puck-handle with such finesse, every pass and every play was a mini orgasm unto itself ... sure made me moan and groan and oh plenty.

And the way those guys were skating - it was like a dream: an oh so beautiful dream.

The entire game was like the inside of my brain after two triple expressos and a couple of dozens of candy bars; I wouldn't really know, but I think it was almost like being on speed or something.

It was a 9-2 rout that was nowhere near boring to watch. Sure, the Russians were up by multiple goals for nearly the entire game, but I couldn't get enough of watching them on ice. I was so glad No-Name Doggie decided on a brisk trot-pace when I took her for her evening walk when the first period ended - I managed to catch almost half of the second period when we were done.

Yes, I love No-Name Doggie, would do just about anything short of murder for her; but hockey's hockey ...

And I'm an old junkie: nothing's more stimulating than watching ten men chase a frozen puck going at around 100mph; those eastern European players just made it goddamn sexy.

I'd just love to proclaim hockey to be way better than sex, but then people are just gonna say, "That poor chick's must've had some pretty lousy partners" and that'd be bloody unfair to those breathtaking players on the ice.

So I'm just gonna say, "Hockey's better than chocolate" - and, for the record, I've had me some pretty fucking awesome choccies.



Go Canada!