My Name Is Chris Pronger And I’m A Total Fucking Jagoff

Asshole

 Hi there. Chris Pronger here. I want to take the time that MYFO has afforded me and finally come clean: I’m a douchebag. A real bad seed. Men just don’t come much more despicable than me.

Whoo. Man, it feels great getting that off my chest. People think it’s so easy for me to go day in, day out and continue to behave the way I do; on the ice and otherwise. No one understands how hard it is dealing with the adulation that is undeservedly bestowed upon me. Sometimes it even makes me feel a little guilty. For some reason, everyone thinks I’m a nice, stand-up kind of guy. It tears me up inside just thinking about it.

Ha ha. Yeah, whatever. If you believe that’s how I actually feel, you are a goddamn chump. To be honest, I think everyone on God’s Green Earth besides me are a bunch of fucking saps. I’m the Golden Boy, suckers. Deal with it.

In case you haven’t heard, I had another “lapse in judgment”, as I like to call it, the other night. Check it out.

Granted, the video isn’t clear but I think everyone can figure out what I intended to do. Ryan Kesler is a little punk. He thinks he can try and get me tangled up on the boards? Me? I’m Chris fucking Pronger, kid.  

 And do you think the NHL is going to do anything about it? Hell no. I’m a Stanley Cup champion, people. I’m the toast of the town. The belle of the ball. Shit, I could drop trou at center ice and take a dump and Gary Bettman wouldn’t do anything.

Do you want to know why? I wasn’t going to bring this up, but what the hell. I’ll let you in on a little secret: Gary Bettman enjoys watching me fuck his wife. The guy’s a total cuckhold. He sits in the closet – he tells me to act like he’s not there, but you can hear him. It’s the audio equivalent of a potpourri consisting of sobbing, dementia and manic masturbation. That’s one sick puppy right there. And speaking of sick, you should see how his wife behaves when I slide the Pronger Donger in – she squeals like a damn pig headed for slaughter, that fat bitch.

Despite his hunger for the freaky shit, the Bettster may be a lot of things but one thing he ain’t is stupid – he’s one savvy son of a bitch. He knows that if it ever came out that I was roasting his wife on Chrissy’s Rotisserie, he would lose the last shred of credibility he is frantically clinging onto. So what do I do? I use it to my advantage, of course.

You see, people, hockey is a brutal sport – there is no room for crybabies and pansies. I regulate and I do what I feel is necessary, even if it involves:

  • trying to take off Pat Peake’s head with my stick
  • taking a swing at Jeremy Roenick’s head with my stick
  • leaving the bench to get payback on Kelly Buchberger
  • viciously cross-checking Brenden Morrow
  • kicking Ville Nieminen
  • violently elbowing Tomas Holstrom in last year’s Western Conference Finals
  • knocking out Dean McAmmond in last year’s Stanley Cup Finals

And those are just for the transgressions that I got suspended for – believe me, there are plenty more, but there is no need to get into that stuff.

Just so you know, it doesn’t stop when I hop off the ice, either. When some annoying kid is running loose at the mall, I have no problem throwing my hip into the little bastard and knocking him on his can. I piss on other guy’s shoes when I’m at the urinal. At four-way stops, I mess with people by never really stopping – roll, slow down, roll, slow down – I love doing that. And after my wife goes to sleep, I jerk off and deposit my spunk in my hand and wipe it in her hair. That ballbreaker is never the wiser.

Wait. Shh. Hold on a sec.

“What’s that, honey? Sure, I’d love to watch Extreme Makeover: Home Edition with you. I love that show – but not as much as I love you, sweet cheeks!”

Stupid bitch. If she only knew the contempt I feel for her. If I could figure out a way to off that slut, believe me, I would.

Now I know what you’re thinking. The inevitable Chris Simon comparison, right? Well, I tell you this: goons like Simon have no place in the National Hockey League – he’s an embarrassment, a scourge, a thug, a complete degenerate that doesn’t deserve to strap on a pair skates ever again..

Just so you know, I’m still ahead of that goon: his 8 suspensions to my 7.

Yeah, I said it. Now sit back, relax and adore me.

It’s what the NHL wants you to do and who knows better than NHL brass?

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6 Comments

  1. Pronger Donger, hilarious.

    I am awaiting madcap adventures of Avery and Pronger. It will be like the Dukes of Hazard.

  2. We need a 3-way cage match of douchebaggery between Pronger, Simon, and Avery.

    roasting his wife on Chrissy’s Rotisserie

    that is one HoF worthy phrase, Weed

  3. It is not widely known, but the NHL bylaws provide that a Hart Trophy bestows on its owner a qualified immunity for stomping on other players. Eddie Shore? Notorious stomper. And keep a sharp eye on Jose Theodore next time you watch an Avs game. He stomps the first couple of guys every night who come into the crease.

  4. Pronger donger–awesome! and we do need some sort of “league of extraordinary douchebags” or something”

  5. Not to mention his back-breaking, ill-timed Olympic retaliation penalties – he’s got to be on the all-time overrated squad.

  6. In grand scheme of things
    C.Pronger may be douche bag
    But you are nozzle


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