Beating a Dead Horse

Specifically, THAT horse.

Before bed, it must be said…

Oh yeah!

49-8… a good ‘ole whooping! I enjoyed every piece of that game… a thorough pleasure.

I bumped into my friend Justin (husband to Jen, father to Caden, and regularly featured HERE) outside the stadium before the game. He was raised in Calgary and indoctrinated by the Stampeder cult (poor bloke). He wasn’t decked in red (because he knows what’s good for him). I sent him on his way with wishes that he’d have a miserable game experience.

If anyone cares to donate towards his counseling, I think that would be a kind gesture.  A guy can’t just witness a slaughtering like that and ever be the same.  Let’s do our best to look after this poor, pitiful friend…

Because deep down, he IS a good guy.



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