8:30 - hockey with the Gamecocks at Devonshire, which is the worst rink in the HRM, but hockey is hockey.
Then, foregoing the post-game beer, rush home for...
10:00 - Lost in HD, viewed while still reeking like hockey gear, which if you've never experienced smells something like a musty wet dog wrapped in a suede leather sling. From 1980. In your grandparents' mouldy cellar. My hockey gear has never been washed, nor will it ever be washed - only replaced when torn, busted beyond the repairing capabilities of hockey tape, or completely devoured by bacteria. Superstitious or lazy? Probably both.
Also, Thursday mornings suuuuuuck.
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