Marty Turco, Queen of the Dallas Stars

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You fucking bigot, what the hell are you staring at? Ignorant troglodyte, I bet you haven’t fucked a live orca in a year! Me? I just boinked Shamu down in San Antonio. And that’s not counting the innumerable necrofucks with Free Willy. I like to rub ambergris on my penis and yell, “MOBY DICK!!!”

I’ve been playing Final Fantasy IX again for shits and giggs. Quina Quen is so fucking cool. What is it? Does it matter? It just pwns those stupid dragons with LV 5 Death. Oh hi, Mr. Dragon, you want to cast Fire 2? Here, have some Blue Magic. Boom. Done. As much as I love the gourmand, the other characters are sorely lacking in depth. Why can only the female characters summon eidolons? Poor Vivi gets stuck with only black magic. Unfucking fair. I wanna be a girl!

Why the hostility? Just let me be a defensman. Sure, I’ve got these leg pads, oversized shoulder pads, a gargoyle mask, and the Elephant Man’s stick, but I want to play the puck. The sixth defenseman, Niskanen, is just another shitty Minnesotan. Good Lutherans, ya der ehhh?  Can you block shots with the best in the league while occasionally making good passes? No, you’re too busy fucking girls while listening to Bill O’Reilly.  You’re ignoring the great whale anus out there.

I’m so unsatisfied, Dave Tippett. Don’t restrict me to the crease and trapezoid. I can score power play goals and fight Ray Emery. You know what else I can do? It’ll cost $500 an hour.

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