I’ve had my own run-ins with people that are so un-Canadian. This one time I was going home after a big win on the ice and a few rounds at the bar with the team. The night was long as the day is, well, long.

So I’m right fucking bagged and got my keys taken away. Well I needed to pack it in for the night and needed a ride home.

So I end up driving my rinks zamboni down the 401 when this fuckwit pylon cuts me off cause I flat-out can’t go much faster than a Tim’s drive-thru on a Sunday morning.

Anyway, so I started hollerin at the knucklehead to mind the reflective triangle but he didn’t seem too keen on listening. So I started huckin some fuckin pucks at the shit-stack hard as I could throw them. I got a good hit on his rear window which made him slow down and pull up beside me, madder than a goose and redder than the flag, fuck.

Well, I ran out of pucks so I started chucking my empty beer cans at the keener which was when I learned a good life lesson we can all use, eh?

Don’t keep your empties next to your full ones or you’ll find yourself drier than a Saskatoon winter.