Conquering the Jersey Turnpike: The Hosers have arrived!

Spending nearly 30 hours in a car, driving through the abyss better known as the Southern US, moronic drivers from Virgina, traffic as far as the eye can see, and being trapped on the infamous Jersey Turnpike.....Yeah, been there, did that, Jersey Sucks.

That was what we noble Hosers had to deal with over the last day and a half in the name of hockey. Rest assured Ladies and Hosers, we are alive, well, and settled in at our beachside resort listening to the mighty Atlantic sing us a song through the waves about how the Mainers suck.

But we went through alot to take that 1st swim in the ocean, be warned though, this tale will make the Lord of the Rings trilogy look like a trip to the store to get some milk.

In a series of systematic congregations, we all gathered on the day after Christmas (Every Hoser got exactly what they asked for, and the Mainers are still digging themselves out of the mountain of coal Santa dumped on them), and saddled up for that would be the single most epic trek we have ever made in modern Hoser History (even longer than the time I climbed Everest with Yacobson and Kirk Manke to find the Lost Golden Molson of Gordie Howe).

It began in Conneticut with a questionably slow to update GPS system. We were presented a truly saddening site. Some poor soul made the unwise decision to align himself with not only the Cat-a-Frauds of UVM, but also with SLU(T). While we were really baffled at this retardation inducing site, we theorize he is in reality a double agent that secretely transports UVM Froshes to safety in NY so that they can be spared a fate almost as bad as being a Black Bear in Maine: Being a frosh in Burlington, VT. Plenty of husky lady sightings as well, except that these husky women have records that at least match .500

IN case you didnt get the hint in the first paragraph or so, New Jersey is a barren wasteland so tragic, that even the uber douche's of NY wont even take them in. Need I present any further proof of this than our time spent on the New Jersey Turnpike. What would have taken us 5 min to move at any other major roadway, took us nearly 3 hours! Throw in your typical drivers from the NY/NJ area showing typical NY/NJ courtesy, and a few generally stupid people from Virgina that made Mass drivers look like little old ladies on Scooters. After barrelling through the traffic at full speed and kicking the crap out of the entire New Jersey Devils team (especially Gionta and Clemmenson...cough cough BC Douche Bags!! ahem apologies) we entered a strange and mysterious land known as Delaware......What is the point of Delaware anyway?!? Did New Jersey knock it out of the dodgeball game early and they aren't allowed back in? It might as well have been called Sub-New Jersey since we encountered the same kinda traffic and same kinda dullards on the road.

In Baltimore we encountered far fewer people on the road, and we made a point to stop by Camden Yards to show the few Orioles fans left in that city that there is still some hope after all, the Sox will be sure to play there a couple of times this year. They can always watch Dice-K pick the Orioles apart one gyroball at a time and see what a real ballclub that doesnt have Cal Ripken Jr can truly succeed.

Virgina and North Carolina was pretty much a blur to most of since a majority of us were pretty much dead to the world....Mostly her majesty though.

South Carolina: Got to see that whole "South of the Border" thing and more signs advertising a 24 hours strip joint than I have ever seen. We also updated the world of USCHO live from out stop in this state. The Queen is still pretty much out cold, and spared her the traditional "shaving cream and feather" trick. But dont tell her about the black rings around her eyes artically placed on her while she slept.

Georgia....Ive been there before and it actually is a nice state, but you cant really appreciate it when its blanketed in darkness and while your in a sleep deprived delirium.

FINALLY! Florida!!!!! and I even managed to grab an hour or two of napping...We arrived to the traditional ticker tape parade complete with media coverage from 24 different countries. Our 1st stop of course was a dunk into the Atlantic Ocean. Consequently, as a result of that trip into the ocean, The entire Atlantic Ocean is now considered Holy Water (except the parts touching Maine)

Well its time to get back to our Hoser get-away, complete with a meal cooked by Momma Hoser herself (Remember, dont tell her about those black rims we drew around her eyes!........wait, she might read this......RUNAWAY, EH!!!) We get a day of enjoying all that Fort Meyers has to offer, then we take on the Corned Big Ded friday

Good Day. eh
Rouge

More Havoc than a messed up Election, the Hosers Invade the Sunshine State!

Yes, ladies and Hosers, we are at T-Minus 5 days until we set out on our single most epic journey in recent memory. We shall trek down the Eastern Seaboard and stake our claim on the State of Florida! And no, Mickey Mouse will have no hand in our misadventures.

Not since our now world famous journey to SLU(T) and UVM has such a grand venture been plotted by those in Hoser Nation. And since I have not updated ye olde scriptures in some time, I think it would be a good idea to highlight some of the regions that will be graced with our presence that normally do not warrant such an honor.

Conneticut: While we did grace YYAAALLLLEEE last season, it is still a rare occurrence that any Hoser has a reason to trek to the state that the rest of New England is willing to trade to NY for a few conditional draft picks and some bagels. The last time we traveled through Conneticut, it was said to be the best thing to happen to the state of Conneticut since the Hartford Whalers....So we've been pretty much the best thing to happen to Conneticut, ever.

New York: We wll trek through true New England enemy territory here. The vast majority of those found here are a species that rivals the BC Douche Bag in arrogance and deranged mentality: Yankees Fans. In a twist of irony, Yankees 3rd baseman, Alex Rodriguez has become something of a regular at the Chestnut Hill Campus. He is often found here in October to watch the Major League Playoffs so he can at least see what Playoffs beyond the AlCS is really like and so he can drown all those postseason sorrows in a sea of wine coolers while many of the male population in the BC faithful fight over who gets to be his cuddle buddy later that night.

The Carolinas: If they think they've been through the worst hurricanes nature has had to offer; they haven't seen nothing yet until they feel the wrath of Hurricane Hoser. While they may have recently had a taste of the ultimate glory Hockey can offer, keep in mind that they accomplished this with the Hartford Whalers leftovers. Hoser psychologists have also predicted that it is here that we shall finally lose our minds after being a car longer than what is probably considered healthy. They also predict that somewhere in the Charlotte area, one of us will wind up being strapped to the roof of one of our vehicles, and another will be dragged behind the other while on a unicycle. My money is on the combination of me being on the Unicycle, and our Queen being on the roof.

Georgia: If we end up anywhere near Atlanta I will be sorely tempted to find Ted Turner, and kick him in the nuts for coming up with the stupid idea of putting Hockey in Atlanta. I dont care how much of that city he owns, the Thrashers should just pack for Winnipeg if the Penguins ultimately dont.

Final Stop: Florida: I hope by the time we get here, Walt Disney will be rolling over in his grave at the thought of us being in this state. And I cannot guarantee that Grandpa Hoser wont try to trap and then barbeque Mickey Mouse if we happen to run out of food before we arrive in Estero. I do fully expected a ticker tape parade for us upon our arrival, cause lets face it, with the unsavory and otherwise hapless likes of Cornell, Western Michigan, and of course the Mainers, the Florida residents and tourists alike will be begging us to save them from these pitiful beings (especially the Mainers).

Well its time for me to return to packing and eluding those UVM puck bunnies and their mistletoe. Personally, I feel with a face like mine, the mistletoe is just a formality. Hope you all got your Christmas shopping, or plan to at least hip check anyone who looks like a Mainer during the course of your last minute shopping. See you Tuesday and as always

Good Day, eh!
Rouge

A Hoser Christmas Story

HO, HO, HO, eh! Welcome to the holiday edition on my incoherent ramblings Ladies and Hosers. The Good Guys in Blue have closed out the 1st half of the season better than any of us could have expected. They will enjoy some well earned rest until they fly down to Florida for the Everblades Tourney. Yours truly finds it to be a war crime for anyone to expect our team to have to share a plane with anybody that is remotely close to being a Mainer...But as one person has said, "there better be a buffer zone between us and them.".

I hope all of you have been out caroling to some of the classical tunes composed by Grandpa Hoser. The children of Hoser Nation have been clamoring all holiday season for their family to sing these beautiful hymns while gathered around the tree. I personally would like to share with you a story that has been told in my family for several generations and has never failed to put a smile on my face. Not to be confused with Grandpa Hoser's stunning rendition of "Twas the Night Before Break", I give you "Twas the night Before Hoser Christmas".

Twas the Night before Christmas, and all through the Hoser-Dome not a creature was stirring, cause Ankur was still passed out on the seats.

Santa was out and aboot making his rounds, when he made his next stop our own Hoser Hunting Grounds.

He stepped on our beloved Lake Whitt and we all rejoiced, though he quietly was still slightly afraid of putting Maggie Joyce on the "bad" list. Which of course he never would despite the highest body count ever put up by her

To all the Good Hosers, he gave them the best presents he could give, Santa surely could never be a stingy sieve.

To the Queen, he gave a whole new set of sign making markers, with an odious scent as glorious as ever. She also got a special Library Chair that wont try to devour her during those long afternoon hours in the Library.

To the Godfather, Santa gave him a brand new custom made Hoser bathrobe for that next pajama day, and a new Santa Hat as well since he already let Santa borrow his so he could finish his list of tour dates.

To Hoser of State, Gib, a brand new camera because his photos unlike BC, never tell a fib. But thats not all, no he got keys to a tall shiny Hoser Bulldozer for all sorts of fun, "Shauwn" just better run

To the Mighty Prime Minister, a brand new bottle of Rum, cause this Hoser wont go near Jose. A brand new Synergy he also got for those moments when he yearns for his days of yore or just for beating back the UVM Puck Bunnies that still want him under that mistletoe

To the Indian, a pillow and a few blankets for the next time he wants to nap in the Matthews. He also got 3 years worth of quotebook text, so that his bride wont be completely lost and confused when she joins our winning side.

To Erinn, a whole new set of Pink Hats so that she can dispense the famed Pink Hat Award at record rates, so that all the hopeless fools of the World have something to look forward to. A roll of duct tape was also hers, so she can prevent the next Hoser from overly expressing himself to the Zebras at the next Hoser-Dome event.

Grandpa Hoser got his recommended dose of Jose Cuervo and a new set of mittens that wont let Tom Fyrer see which finger Grandpa is using for telling him he's #1 for trying to hose the Good Guys

Mr. Cloud 9 got himself a roll of hockey tape and aluminum foil, so that the next time he encounters a dumber than usual slummer, he can "put on the foil" and make the sad fool soil himself.

But Santa wasnt done yet, no matter the sad, ugly, pompus, obese, deviant, braindead, and just plain pathetic fools they all are. All the other Hockey East schools would get a visit tonight

To the Douche Bags of BC, a 4 pack of Wine Coolers worked just fine, along with new pink shirts complete with popped collars so that they might be able to score a chance with Aiello tonight.

To the Poodles of BU, a 12 pack of soap bars to wash out their foul f&%^#ng mouths, I just hope they dont drop that Soap, the next time they go to Conte in the fog.

To the Mainers....coal, coal, coal, coal, coal, coal, horse lube, coal, coal and while Santa was in Orono, he urinated on their tainted title banners without remorse.

To Merry-mack, a new set of 75 watt lightbulbs since they always bark about how dark it's always been in the Cellar of Hockey East.

To the Cat-A-Fraud Froshes, brand new 100% Hemp Scarves they donned, so they wont get too cold while on their annual Team Bonding Holiday Elephant Walk for Stupidity.

The Slummers of Lowell got themselves new stabbing knives to replace the old, too bad Maggie Joyce knocked them out cold before they could try them.

Santa just had to get Um-ass a book on learning class and grace, too bad they got arrested for kicking 6 year-old cancer patient in the face just because he wasnt cheering for Um-ass just before Santa arrived. So instead of that book on class, Santa just gave them all, a boot in the ass

Proviced faithful got a gift card for the fine entertainment establishment better known as the "Foxy Lady". But they still frowned when Santa again said no to telling them where the children hide whenever the Friars come to town.

And to the NU-tered Huskies on Huntington Ave, they got the broom back that Grandpa Hoser stole from their storage room, but still no shot at the beanpot.

Now that Santa saw his work was done, he came back to Durham to have another cold one with us Hosers because we are his favorite breed of human beings. Seeing 1st light coming to over the Hoser Dome, the time was right for him to head home. He got in his sleigh and just before flying away, he said to us all "Merry Christmas to all! And to all a good day eh!".......Halfway home he had forgotten to get "Shawun" a present, but he had already gone too far so he kept going without another thought to it.

If thats not a feel good story, I dont know what is. That should tide all of you Good Hosers over until Christmas Day. I must be off to buy Christmas Presents for those on my lengthy list ( are you on it? You'll have to wait to find out, eh) and endure a hell week worth of school work. Get ready to pack your tuques and sunblock, the state of Florida will never be the same when Hoser Nation comes to plunder their rinks, beaches, and drive thru liquor stores! I sign off wishing you and yours a very merry Christmas and of course

Good Day, eh!

Rouge

ps: Yes, this was written while avoiding studying during finals week. Well, its not like every other entry wasnt composed while avoiding studying for something

Slummers, SLU(T), and Fyrer..A Collaboration of failures

Quote of the Week:

Slummer: "Yeah, you're talking tough, where are you from?"
Rob: "Kingston"
Slummer: "You're from Kingston and you're talking bad about Lowell? What does Kingston have? Nothing!"
Rob: "You're right, no gun violence, drug problem, or high level of crime"
Slummer: "Kingston has nothing man!"
Rob: "Thank you for making my arguement for me"

-Cloud 9 for the 1st ever quote of the week hat trick!


Welcome back Ladies and Hosers. I apologize for being tardy in updates, but between schoolwork, protecting the Hoser-Dome, saving a few damsels in distress, one too many silver bullets, and more schoolwork, I havent had much time. Its hard earning an education, of course no Mainer could possibly know what thats like. Of course UNH internet is being about as lame as said Mainers, so I am currently coming to you live from the office of the Hoser-Dome (yes, that means im driving the Zamboni today).

It was a busy week in the land where the Hosers run free, so lets get right at it. Wednesday evening, we felt the urge to put our lives on the line while watching the good guys in blue...So yeah, we wound up down in the hole better known as Lowell. Once again, the River Pigeon fan base showed up in full force (give or take 20 people or so) and had high hopes of pulling out a win so they could partake in the traditional UML victory dance better known as "The Tango of a thousand stab wounds". One of the UML faithful was kind enough to show us his latest attempt at earning those credits for Arts and Crafts 401. He then celebrated his D- effort in signmaking by eating every chicken finger and a few storm troopers in the Tsongas...We also think he ate "Shawun" while he was at it.

The Tsongas was once again filled to its usual 25% capacity for UML Hockey and Blaise had his soapbox and phonebook ready so he could see over the boards, the game was on. Not even a whole minute of the game went by when Matt "Dick Cheney fears me" Fornataro struck 1st. Despite the religious impact the goal had on the world, the Slummers were still committed to the idea that sharp and pointy objects and drug trafficing was the key to happiness in life. Mr. Radja tried to show them a better way to winning at life when he put one past their frosh goalie later in the 1st....Of course, its hard to teach someone anything when they have knives in their backs, drugs in their system, and Chicken McNuggets constantly adding to their own morbid obesity.

The 2nd period..not so good. It was discovered later on that UML had tainted the water bottles of the good guys in blue by using water directly from the Merrimack. So while UNH was trying to recover from the near lead poisoning they suffered because of that water, UML tied it up, and if only for a brief moment, the River Pigeon faithful felt it.....they felt hope, for the 1st time in their lives. Tainted water or not, I dont see how a pathetic fan base for an even more team could have faith in a sieve that got better work done while he had his hands down his pants during the game.

Hobey Fornataro then turned the River Water into pure spring waters originally used in the ice of old Snively and things returned to normal as the 3rd period meant the complete dashing of those hopes.

In one of the most life affirming plays in recent history, the line of the Mayor, Hobey, and Pollastrone (aka Robert DeNiro according to Yacobson) perfected the art of "Pass, shoot and score. The play was so pretty, the slummers still dont know what happened to them and they even dropped their stabbing knives in wonderment. The next goal and it's beauty amazed the dirty River Pigeons faithful straight into a coma. The final score Good guys 4, Dirty, drug riddled, and knifed River Pigeons 2. But the evening did not end with the final buzzer. A pair of slummers dared to challenge the validity of the anti Lowell factoids courtesy of the only Cornell Hoser! And as youve seen in this weeks installment of the Quote of the Week, his Lowell Education came back to stab him in the back as he proved our point...Obviously flabbergasted and bitter about being made an even bigger fool than all the other Lowell fools, they waited for the Red Hoser outside Tsongas! While he is generally a non-violent Hoser, Mr. Cloud 9 took a page out Maggie "Osama shits himself in fear of me" Joyce and laid out some serious devastation.....The sad slummer has yet to recover physically, and has suffered permanent mental trauma.

Now join me as we teleport ourselves to friday evening bboooooooooowweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooo(yes that is the sound of teleporting). The last game before Christmas, last home game till late January, and the final game for the 1st half of the season. So with such a meaningful game, why would we want to waste our time with an Easy-AC waste like SLU(T)?. It has been speculated that Coach invited them so they could see what a rink that is made of more than popsicle sticks and elmers glue really looks like. Later discovered that SLU(T) had become homeless after Appleton Arena went up in Flames when someone touched a door handle and created just the right spark needed to send that poorly made Boy Scout project of an arena fall apart.

Being in the Christmas spirit, we had donned our traditional holiday apparel. The Good Guys in Blue also seemed to be in the Christmas spirit as well..The #1 Offense in the Nation took a temporary break that seemed to last for the better part of 2 periods...But they weren't that giving. Frosh Netminder, Mr. Foster once again stood tall and showed that there are some freshmen in Durham that are useful. SLU(T) of course was on a power play the entire game, as they had a sixth player out there by the name of Tom (almost a bigger douche bag than the Common BC Douche Bag) Fyrer. The ignorant zebra did everything he could to keep our team down and out. But with a team like SLU(T) as the opponent, UNH was bound to make an epic failure out of them. He apparently escaped his exilement to Maine...Lord knows just how many hours he spent in the horse barn with the lummoxes of Orono to buy his way back to civilization.

In a matter of seconds, another UNH frosh, Mr. Butler finally ended the SLU(T) streak of ridiculously lame good luck. Just seconds later, Mr, Ciocco did the suave thing like always and put the game out of reach, even with the help of Fyrer. There was some tremendous moments of irony throughout the game, the SLU(T) known as Hack, found himself in the box often and the other known as "Generous" was generous in his defensive coverage.

The final of friday's tilt: Good Guys 2, SLU(T) 0. Another night, another shutout for Mr. Foster, and another pre-determined waste of hockey equipment is sent packing. And the 1st half of the season ends on a great note. Fyrer was once againn exiled to Maine, this time in a Horse Costume....He is most certainly...screwed.

Be sure to tune in next week for a special Christmas (procrastinating studying for finals) edition! Until then as always

Good Day, eh!
Rouge

ps: Grandpa Hoser has released his third best selling Christmas Album. Be sure to pick it up! It is so life Affirming, that it temporarily convinced a Merrimack player that Santa does exist and may possibly visit him this year!

Vermont: Cuba can have them!

Quote of the Week:
"Keith, you do sex, ill only f#ck it up."
-Rob (2nd week in a row, eh)


Freshmen beware! The Cat-a-Frauds are coming to town! Yes, ladies and Hosers, the school that can alienate froshes like Keith Johnson can alienate everyone at the local Kindergarten are visiting our mighty Hoser-Dome. Yours truly has always considered the state of Vermont to be like that friend or little brother that has to try and copy everything you do just so they can feel good about themselves. Unfortunately for them, its pretty darn tough to get such emulation right when you spend 22 hours of your day staring at your hand in awe, and the other 2 hours desperately looking for a bag of chips.

The Cat-a-Frauds have tried everything from playing in a prehistoric and cheap replica of beloved Snively, taking on a makeshift imitation nickname, to even making their borders an almost perfect upside down mirror image of NH. Between Howard Dean, the entire 1999 men's hockey season, and their refusal to stop living in the 60's, its completely understandable why their only redeemable qualities (Killington and David Ball) bolted for the Granite State. The UVM population is mostly comprised of bitter potsmokers and wishful thinking puck bunnies that are all suffering from a severe case of "White Mountain envy".

This tilt between our dazed and confused neighbors to the west was more than your average meeting. ESPNU finally decided that our classic wit and charm was the new "must see TV". But above all else, the great Hoser tradition continued as it was Pajama Day in the Hoser Dome! The sheer greatness of this day is rivaled only by St. Patrick's Day, Christmas, St. Fornataro's Day (every Thursday), Boxing Day, the 1st day of Black Bear season, and my personal favorite, International Kick A UNH Band Member day (March 6th). It should be noted that I had to change into my evening attire at the arena and thus became the 1st Hoser to save seats with his own pants....The UVM puckbunnies in attendance then proceeded to fight over my pants hoping they might jump a few numbers in line.

On to the game, Vermont of course entered the game sporting the 1st ever line of uniforms made entirely of Hemp!! With a national audience watching, once again, the Hosers saved the day once again with another life affirming national anthem performance that made the Beatles seem like a group of 1st round American Idol rejects. Unfortunately for UVM, it was not a good idea to stand so close to heaters with those all hemp jerseys. With Fallon feeling the effects and in complete awe over his catcher glove, Mr. Kapstad ripped one right past the Dazed and Confused sieve. The Cat-a-Frauds did manage to awaken from their stupor enough to tie the game before the period was out though.

2nd period...el yawwnnnnnnn Oh, wait! Is that an actual family of elephants I see on Lake Whittemore? Nevermind.....Just a group of freshmen who were dumb enough to go to UVM. More yawwwwwnnnnnn until the last minute of play where Mr. Radja WENT PAST ONE DEFENSEMAN, THEN HE WENT PAST ANOTHER DEFENSEMAN, THEN HE SENT ONE RIGHT PAST FALLON AND HE TOOK BACK THE LEAD!!!! HEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WTF?!? Howard Dean!? Take Off eh! This is my blog you goofy presidential failure!

Sorry about that eh. The 3rd period consisted of more classical Suave-ness from Mr. Ciocco and more of Mr. Regan denying the Cat-a-Frauds more often than Canada denies Vermont a chance of seceding from the US. Mr. Radja put one last tally in the empty net to send the Cat-a-Frauds back to Burlington to drown their sorrows in their bongs and Ben and Jerry's. Also of note, after seeing this loss, the town and resort of Killington sped up their efforts to jump to the winning team (Trevor Smith will serve as Mayor to them as well).

Well Ladies and Hosers, we go from dazed and confused to the hopeless and homicidal on Wednesday, The Hosers will be living la vida Lowell once again, until then as always,

Good Day, eh!
Rouge

ps: Paul McCartney called again, he still wants to open for us at our annual benefit concert for the victims of Maggie Joyce at the end of the month.

Roasting Darci Wilder: Hosers save the Queen

Still quote of the week:
THAT IS THE FACE OF ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION!!
-Rob

Hosers save the Queen!
Today, ladies and Hosers, I bring you a very special edition of my regular ramblings and rants.Some of you I assume are still reveling in our recent thrashing of Merrimack and are still enjoying our recent high rankings in the polls. But now we have a new reason to celebrate in Hoser Nation. We have recently celebrated the birthday of Grandpa Hoser. We estimate his age to be somewhere between 30 and 2,000 years of age as he has claimed to have beaten Jesus and Moses in Texas Hold'em and that both owe him money. But another noteworthy Hoser is celebrating a birthday.

UML fans fear her, BU fans thank her for her teachings, BC fans want to recruit her, and those in UNH know her power. She's been called the crazy girl in the front row, Mainer's kryptonite, Momma Hoser, and Queen of the Hosers. We just call her Darci.

From the very beginning, everybody knew there was something specialed about this young lady. Before most kids could walk, She could skate, belly dance, and sing to the rhythmical stylings of Clarence Carter...Walking is sometimes an issue though. Everyday we storm the rinks of College Hockey, she's there with her usual undeniable grace and coordination. Gravity be damned as she attempts to conquer the perilous stairs of the Arena's we grace with our presence. Several artists all over Europe have clammered to have her signs displayed in all the major museums across the world. Her now famous Awesom-o work has been offered the place in the Louvre where the Mona Lisa usually is on display. They often are willing to pay even more for the signs that are untainted by the ridiculous practice of "spell checking".

For those who are in search of truly deep inspiration, I suggest you look back on back issues of the quote book. There are some truly inspirational nuggets of unintentional wisdom that she has brought to our intention throughout the years. She has always endorsed the simple things in life such as leaving yourself wide open to alot of things and being double handed. Her seasonal contributions to the quote books are such literary masterpieces, they make the DaVinci Code look like another Terrel Owen's Childrens book. She reminds us in other simple ways to amuse ourselves when bored. Whether it's dragging a black bear on a noose behind the "Jeef", yelling at Non-Hosers who stare at our greatness while we camp out at the Hoser-Dome, teaching young children at BU about "sex" and "orgy", and of course getting lost anywhere possible even with the help of GPS.

Our Queen has also made siginificant contributions to science as well. Her most noteworthy experiment occurred back in 2005 when she and one of our most noteworthy Hoser Alcohol research specialists traveled to Columbus. This was the 1st recorded occurrence of the now well know "Darci-Effect". The groundbreaking research concluded that the further a Hoser travels across the country to the west, they tend to lose many of their traditional cognitive skills and most of their coordination. Further research on this phenomenon shall be conducted in December on the way to Florida as we will determine if the "Darci Effect" applies to traveling to the southern US. She also appears to have a certain magnetism as it has been noticed that small children tend to flock to her in drones. Some apparently are so drawn to her, they even attempt to digest her royal hair..possibly for nutritional supplements or maybe in hopes they might inherit some of the royalty. Even the Children unfortunate enough to be born and raised in Maine are drawn to her, obviously to give them a sense of hope. She also works partime as a dance instructor to inner city children, where the "Hey Ya!" is now the biggest dance craze since the macarena.

Now that I have run out of things to roast her about for the moment, we shall be serious for once in this piece of internet ramblings. There's a reason why all the other schools are jealous of us Hosers, its obviously because we got the best on our side. I've been around Hockey my entire life and I've never met a fan at any level of the game with the same level of dedication and passion she has for this team. And it takes alot just to sit through one game worth of Brian Yandle and Eddie Caron! Nobody puts more time, money, and heart into being a hockey fan than she does, and we are all lucky to have her in Hoser Nation, and we are even more so luckier to have her as a friend more importantly. Happy Birthday your majesty, you are the greatest of the great NH Hosers and we love ya! Now everybody return to practicing your Provi-dances and until next time,

Good day, eh!
Rouge

ps: feel free to post your favorite Darci moments here!

and Oh yeah, Erinn spellchecked this for me after I had the blogger spellcheck it already, so no players stats were erroneously written and no player's names were mispelled this time around, Darci ;-p

Merrimack....The Hockey East Charity Case

Quote of the Week:
THAT IS THE FACE OF ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION!!!!
-Rob

Here I am, rock you like a hurricane once again Ladies and Hosers. As of late, our beloved good guys in blue have faced some very tough competition...And we have made them look almost as foolish as a Mainer who believes he has a hope to make something of himself. This week however, we find ourselves facing down the complete opposite of those teams as of late. And few teams have taken failures to new heights quite like the Merrimack regional vocational school Warriors.

Not even an obvious sponsorship with Trojan Condoms can buy them a way out of the obscurity they have perpetually lived in since the dawn of time. Some teams have to go through a few seasons of being in the cellar before they can make it to the to. Merrimack fell down the stairs, lost the key, and have been locked in the cellar ever since.

But hey, as the whiteboard says, "At least your better than NU, right?.....right?"

After dealing with some incredibly inconsiderate people who obviously were raised in a barn to the point where they were awarded the obscure "doorstop of the year" trophy. We entered our beloved building to find out if Merrimack was truly better than NU...From the start, we had doubts. Upon entering the Hoser-Dome, we felt a familiar aura of greatness...Broken Ankle and all, the Legendary Black Bear Killer Steve Saviano made a long awaited return to Durham from his time abroad. Unfortunately, he was unable to pay us a visit..Probably because he was busy explaining to the many Swedish ladies he has accumulated why he had to return America over the phone, and maybe sign a few historic accords here and there.

Right off the bat, the good guys in blue were caught off guard by Merrimack's un-orthodox playing style...Using some sort of new age psychology, they must have figured UNH wouldn't know how to play against a team who plays more like a squirt team down at Jackson's Landing after playing so many good teams in a row. Strangely enough, it seemed to work for a short while...That is until, Matt "Jack Parker think I'm the reaper" Fornataro used his super telepathic mental abilities that make Steven Hawkings look like a Mainer in a special ed class to see through their cheap tactics.....From there it was just another night of reminding Merrimack that they are and always will be the lost cause of the east.

The latest erectile dysfunction spokesman, Andrew Brathwaite, was on the receiving of a savage offensive beatdown this time around. Obviously Merrimack, tried to emulate Vermont by sending a freshman in to take a cruel and unusual beating. When will they learn which schools are the right ones to imitate for success? Well...Actually they imitated how the Mainers, BC, and CC played against us pretty well this time around.

The Good guys in blue made some pretty accurate statements with each shot they put past this sad unfortunate frosh that was fed to the lions. And here are accurate summaries of each statement:

Goal #1 Mr. Pollastrone reminded Merrimack that Division III could be a suiting location for their type futility

Goal #2 Mr. Hemmingway told them that a working partnership with a major condom manufacturer does not always guarantee the best defense

Goal #3 His suaveness Mr. Ciocco told them that they have had this whole Hockey thing wrong all along, its not like golf at all! You have to have MORE goals than the other guys to win

Goal #4 Mr. Butler showed that anyone can overcome being shorthanded in resources and still score...Unless your from Maine...Then your life will be nothing but broken promises and bitter failures

Goal #5 Mr. Vinz mocked them at the fact that he only has 2 goals thus far this year and yet he is outscoring the leading scorer on Merrimack.

Mr. Regan just kinda stood between the pipes and seriously wondered why Merrimack hasn't called Bertagna to drop out of the conference yet and if he had left the coffee pot on back home....Not like anything was gonna come close to getting past him tonight.

Sooooo, Maybe Merrimack isn't better than NU...so sad, too bad.

Another night, another team bites the dust, another night of cringing at the bands cruel use of auditory abuse..But we got cake! So all is good, now everybody PROVI-DANCE!!! Get ready to hide the froshes Hosers, the Cat-a-frauds come to town Sunday. Until then as always

Good day, eh
Rouge

Desperately Looking for I-95 while Spaying the Huskies

New! Quote of the Week:
"Who needs GPS? We have my Indian friend!"
-Nick

Yes Ladies and Hosers, its that time once again to make that drive down Mass Ave to face our adversaries at the Huntington Avenue Learning Annex. But that was not all that we were gracing the streets of Boston with. In the immortal words of the great habitual line stepper, Rick James: "It's a celebration bitches." On this day, we would celebrate the anniversary of the birth of Grandpa Hoser himself. This occasion required a level of secrecy and deception that makes double secret probation look easier than a UVM puckbunny. Several covert agents lost their lives for attempting to infiltrate and otherwise disclose such classified information. The plan was of course successful, and it went off without a hitch.

After some daring and creative navigational maneuvers that involved cutting off a duck boat to find a parking spot, Our lovely Queen and yours truly made our way across town on the Royal Hoser Boston Carriage (better known as the Green Line). On a side note, it was our Queen's 1st time driving that far into Boston, and despite the city's best efforts to otherwise confuse her, she succeeded.

Upon arrival, billiard balls went flying, the liquor flowed like the river Charles (not nearly as dirty though),and Grandpa Hoser shared with us his classic stories of when he fought in the Hoser War of 1993 in the Yukon and of the time before the Great Hoser Revolution of 2003. He was presented with a Hoser lifetime achievement Award....And the mandatory handle of Jose Cuervo so he can proceed to forget more recent parts of that lifetime. But, he was not the only one with an upcoming birthday that required celebration. With Momma Hoser's birthday coming up, it would have been a crime punishable by being ordered to sit next to the UNH pep band for an entire game, if we did not acknowledge such an important event. We ate, we drank, we drank some more, we nearly got taken out by some billiard balls, we danced the dances, we had some more drinks, I had some tequila I probably shouldn't have had, and we were merry..But there was work to be done down the road.

We Hosers always enter old Matthew's expecting the traditional "Litterbox vs Dog House" war. Normally such a battle is a joy to participate in and we always win of course....This evening was barely worth the price of admission as it seemed like us Hosers outnumbered the Dog House 3 to 1! The few fans they had were about as useful as a turn signal is to a Mass-hole. It was a sight comparable to that of our last adventure to BC when their fans were too busy spooning with one another to care about the game.

On to the game, and what a game it was.....not really though..Mr. Kapstad started things off with a bullet of a slapshot that got him his 1st goal in NH blue and it also started the slow and eventual movement of the NU faithful towards the exits. Those same people then made their ways to the Tobin Bridge when the likes of Hemmingway and Fortney gave NU 2 more reasons to just give up and stick to....err ummmmm something else they might have skill in that no one else does...whatever that maybe. NU fans were waiting for a miracle, something that would keep them from walking right off that Tobin Bridge...Instead, Mr. Regan showed them the way down with a friendly nudge over the edge in the form of another solid night between the pipes. The final from the frozen barn in Boston: Good guys 3, Huntington Ave Learning Annex 1, and we leave the Huskies completely NU-tered for the season like usual....But that was not the end of the evening for us...not by a longshot.

Myself and Momma Hoser were unable to partake in postgame activities so we decided to make our way back to New Hampshire. Now, we were able to overcome a wrong turn or 2 on the way into Boston, but this time around it would be one wrong turn that would set us up for a very long drive home. For the record, for future reference, and for the love of David Hasselhoff! NEVER EVER TAKE A LEFT TURN WHEN LEAVING THE LECHMERE STATION PARKING LOT!!!!! THE RESULTS WILL BE DISASTEROUS!!!!. In a clear cut Anti-Hoser conspiracy (I blame BU on this one) involving misleading signs and generally poor signage, we were mislead into thinking the route we were currently on would lead us to 93...Which it didn't. And just as we thought we had recovered enough to take route 1, it became all too clear we had been setup...Route 1 disappeared, and we found ourselves in a place I once swore I would never return to....Dear sweet, mother of Fornataro, we were in Lynn!!! Most would just give up and surrender their wallets to the 1st slummer to walk by, but we had the answer to this predicament ready and at our disposal...and no, it did not involve a steel pipe and a few road flares. This plan required careful strategy and intricate genius...In other words, we called the Hoser of State, and he mapquested our arses out of there as fast as humanly possible. Driving at Hoser Warp Speed, we escaped the perilous back streets of Lynn with our wallets and all our organs still intact and found our way back on I-95.......55 Lynn slummers lost their lives during the course of our misadventure...all of them were justifiable homicide.

Well Hosers, that's the last time we may grace the arena's of Beantown till 2007 and the last road trip till our great journey to Florida. See you all back at the Hoser Dome Tuesday when the spokesmen for Trojan Condoms and the perennial guardians of the Hockey East cellar, Merry-Mack come to town. Until then as always,

Good day, eh
Rouge

ps: After careful deliberation and well planned thought, I, the Prime Minister of the Hosers in conjunction with the Queen of the Hosers herself, hitherforth decree that any and all transportation to Boston shall be the duty of one, Andrew "Rent-a-Hoser" Carrol. So it is written, so it is done...NOW GO FORTH AND MAKE ME A SANDWICH!!!!

Who needs Turkey, we got BC Eagle to roast!

Quote of the Week:
"I can read while sober!"
-yeah, that one was on me


They pop their collars...
They wear pink shirts...
They like their techno music a little too much..
They drink wine coolers...
They are BC!!
And they are THE COMMON DOUCHE BAG!!!
Yes, ladies and Hosers, just before the nation gives thanks for all that we are fortunate enough to have, we travel to the campus where the women are women, and the men are more limp-wristed than Alex Rodriguez in the playoffs, aka Boston College. For all those who are unfamiliar with what exactly is the make up of this strange creature that is the average BC fan, Hoser scientists have constructed this is easy to understand diagram so that there will be little to no confusion when you may come across this primitive and pompous creature.

There are other interesting facts about this breed that may be of use to you all when making a trek to Chestnut Hill. Everyone who has ever been to New England knows that BC's most famous alum is former Patriots QB, Doug Flutie. Of course we do, because the average BC fan never shuts up about it!! No one here will deny that Mr. Flutie did some truly remarkable things in his time there and continues to do so to this day, but we don't wanna hear about for the 1,000,000th time from a peon wearing one of those ugly gold "superfan" t-shirts. While we are on the topics of superfans, what kind've "superfan" arrives at a game late in the 1st or even 2nd period? Whether its because they are just trying to squeeze in one more wine cooler or they are having a hard time finding their man-purses, they always seem to show up late for games.

By the way, big thanks to the fool who decided to schedule such an important game on the day before Thanksgiving.....Idiot

Anyways, being it the day before such an important holiday, the Hosers decided that in a gesture of goodwill, that we would join a small group of BC faithful before the game. We of course, arrived right on time, the BC group however, were nowhere to be found. Now you'd think since we are their guests they would be hospitable and arrive on time, but of course we Hosers made one crucial mistake....They are BC fans....They truly believe time does not apply to them. They were of course very late, but her majesty was kind enough to bend her usually busy pregame routine to stay for a short while longer. Not once did they apologize for their lateness, but they did mutter a few excuses along the lines of forgetting their man-purses and something about Aiello wanting to cuddle.

We did leave the BC group to their own devices so we could make puck drop (most of them had not heard of such a thing taking place in the 1st period...Which they also have not ever heard of). Upon arrival, we were greeted by a truly laughable site. There were no BC students in either section. None, nadda, zilch, zero. Holiday or not, it was the most pathetic showing of a fanbase since any attempt by a Merrimack fan to be optimistic about their team. But on a lighter note, we treated by appearances by a pair that redefines UNH Rock star...No, not Savianno or Ayers. Doog "Mr. Thursday Night" Yacobson and the Bos Hoser himself made time in their busy schedules (they squeezed us in between their usual parties at the Playboy Mansion and their dinner with Alexander Ovechkin and the Governator himself).

Rather than give you the traditional summary, I feel it being a holiday, we must take time to consider what we are thankful for this holiday season. So here is an inaugural Hoser Nation Top 10 list. The Top Ten Things we were grateful for during the UNH vs BC game

10. We are grateful the Good Guys in Blue rendered local freak, Brian Boyle completely useless to the point where he decided to go back to his day job: The Barnum and Bailey Circus Freak..He also doubles as the bearded lady.
9. Cory Schneider being even more useless to the point where BC was trying to get Matty 5-hole to make a celebrity appearance
8. Jerry Pollastrone and how me made Schneider's uselessness obvious to all
7. Captain Morgan Rum....According to everyone it made me a lot sharper at the game eh
6. Mr. Radja and his continued mastery of driving opposing Sieves towards post traumatic depression
5. Mr. Regan teaching all of BC that no matter how much money their Mommy and Daddies have in the bank from embezzling companies, it will never buy them a goal, nor will it stop Jesus from hating on them.
4. The Mayor of Hoser Nation and his executive decision that all opposing sieves in Hockey East and other conferences should just give up and jump of a bridge...Especially Schneider
3. Matt "I discovered America before the Pilgrims" Fornataro for continuing his fast growing Hobey Baker campaign for his 377th overall award, he also managed to save a litter of puppies from a burning building during the 2nd intermission
2. Carl Sneep for being so grateful for Hoser Nation, he was nice enough to hand us the game winning goal in a classic "Ryan Whitney" type of moment. Schneider strangled him in his sleep later that night
1. We are of course thankful for UNH sending the metrosexuals of BC home to spoon with each other over the agony of a 6-3 loss to the Good Guys in Blue!

That pretty much sums it all up for Hoser Nation last night, the good guys win, we dined on roast Eagle, BC fans drowned their sorrows in techno and wine coolers, and all is well in the world. Its time for me to prepare for my own thanksgiving festivities...As in turkey, ragging on my BC loving cousin, eating pie, watching football, and passing out. I am of course thankful for hockey, family, and obviously all of you in Hoser Nation. Have a great Thanksgiving and remember to bring the snips to Boston saturday, we got some stray Huskies to NUter!

Good day, eh!
Rouge

A whole new Low-ell

Quote of the Week:
Darci: "A cross between a potato and a taco: Potacco!"
Nick:"isn't that what you call a Mexican from Maine?"


Do you enjoy luxury ladies and Hosers? If so, then you are certainly not from Lowell, the left arm pit of the not-so great state of Massachusetts.

In Lowell, the odds of someone being stabbed in the streets are the exact rate as the odds of a sheep falling victim to Mainer Sexual Assault...99.5%!!! Unfortunately, the Hosers had to run the risk of those kinda odds this past weekend to see the Good guys in Blue dine on the inept River Pigeons. Fortunately, we had stocked up on the latest in knife attack prevention gear..In other words we carried around a cardboard cutout of Maggie Joyce around Lowell, and everyone knows she's bulletproof already so the slummers ducked for cover fearing a possible Maggie Joyce beatdown.

Game 1 had us visiting their cheap imitation of the Hoser Dome. But with the more than half empty arena, horrid order, death trap stairs, and Barry Bonds dressed up as a pigeon in a Superman outfit, I must say, it was a typical shoddy Lowell effort.

The Pigeons got the 1st goal but the goal was suspect in the eyes of Hoser Nation, as we feel Mr. Regan was distracted by the alarming number of knives he found in his back just before the goal. After removing the knives, spraying them with water, and snow, he would be fine. It was interesting to see the latest Lowell 1st goal tradition though. This year, it has become custom that upon the 1st Lowell goal of the game, the students throw a rubber chicken that has been strapped to the latest freshman stabbing victim found near the old mill buildings. After the police processed the body, the period ended.

In the 2nd period, It appeared the bag UNH had stored their knife proof jerseys had arrived and there was no longer a need for the Good guys in Blue to fear such savage attacks. Another interesting observation we made before the period started up again was that it appeared Lowell had taken their historic child labor practices to new levels as it appeared the River Pigeons had hired a 5 year-old coach! But upon further investigation, we discovered it was still Blaise MacDonald, and he had forgotten his phonebook, soapbox, and cinderblock that he uses at the same time so he can be tall enough to see over the boards. Back to the hockey, UNH struck back with 2 fast goals. Wwith the UML student section peering over their bench with "ole stabby" at the ready, the Pigeons knew they had to at least make it look like they at least had a shot at maybe losing by one. They did manage to tie it up, but their own idiocy would be their undoing. A pair of UML players were not only penalized, but were also arrested for possession of a concealed weapon (it is not wise to store your stabbing knife in your skate, nor actually make your knife the actual blade on your skate) and another was uncovered as the biggest Lowell drug cartel since Peter Vetri (who is now serving time in Qunnipiac Federal penitentiary). The resulting power plays allowed the likes of Radja and Pollastrone to score goals in such artistic manners, that they made the likes of Picasso, DaVinci, and Van Gogh all look like a backwoods retard from Maine.

Of course, come the 3rd period, Matt "Angelina is gonna dump Brad for me" Fornataro made both of those goals look like a fingerpainting project by the same backwoods retard from Maine. With that goal, Sir Fornataro (yes he was knighted by the Queen of England last weekend after he proved to all of England that cold beer is so much better than warm beer) put a knife in Lowell's hopes and dreams, even though knives are regularly found in those hopes and dreams. Game 1 to the Hosers and we did win the ultimate grand prize in all of Lowell.....WE GOT TO LEAVE LOWELL!!!! Unfortunately, we missed out on getting more haircut coupons courtesy of the arena blimp.....

Meanwhile back at Lake Whittemore, The Women of the Whitt were expecting to play some hockey games this weekend, but instead some Husky Ladies showed up. Being the benevolent ladies they are, the Women allowed these dogfaced girls scrimmage them for 4 points in the Hockey East standings. Unfortunately for the husky girls, the REAL Maggie Joyce was there and not the cardboard cutout..........It believed Maggie disposed of what was left of that team of Husky ladies somewhere at the bottom of the outdoor pool by Old Snively

Game 2 of the weekend tilt with the Pigeons gave them the honor of visiting the Hoser Dome. Of course we Hosers could not allow the Slummers into our beloved Hockey temple without checking them for knives. So naturally, we volunteered pep band to do the honors......What was left of them made their way back and still managed to create a dangerous level of noise pollution.

With the potential stabbing problem out of the way, the only thing left to do was to send this pitiful assembly of slummers back to their crack-houses...And that we did. Making his 1st ever start at the collegiate level, local frosh Brian Foster didn't even give the Pigeons a chance to succeed. Any shot he faced, he stopped with style. The only real mistake of the night can be attributed to "numerical heredity" as a few UNH goalies that wore 29 had a habit of wondering a little too much (I know Ty Conklin's crease chains are somewhere in the Whitt still, and Ill bring em out just in case). The offense continued to paint some masterpiece goals on this night, including Vinz and his patented pending "floater shot" that fooled the pitiful UML goalie. That sieve had every gold star on his helmet removed after that game, yes even the ones he got back in kindergarten for coloring inside the lines. When the final buzzer sounded, UML received their just punishment for failure...They were forced to return to Lowell, and remain there. The star of the night was of course Foster who got a shutout in his 1st start but another highlight of the night was that over $1,000 was raised in the annual "Blaise MacDonald Midget Toss" contest held in the Hoser Dome. Ricky Santos retained his title by tossing him from the Student section all the way to West Edge...Where David Ball obviously made the catch for the touchdown.

Of course the most impressive fact in all this is that we managed to spend a whole 2 days being around Lowell residents and not one of us were the victim of stabbings. Though, during the usual Women's Hockey beatdown on some poor pathetic team, I was the victim of gravitational assault. After recovering from the attack on me, I then teleported back in time, found Sir Isaac Newton (the guy who discovered gravity) and struck him down with a bulldozer. On a Bulldozer related note, "Shaun" as we all know him as, has recovered from his bulldozer related injuries, but we recently learned that his good health was shortlived as he apparently was mauled by a Hippotomaus on Main St Saturday afternoon...

That's all from me for now Hosers. Be sure to come to Boston hungry on Wednesday, cause the Hosers will be dining on BC Eagle just before Turkey day!

Good day, eh!
Rouge

ps: Brian Foster, you have an appointment with Godfather Hoser this week to discuss your unacceptable behavior during the "We're all behind you" portion of the 2nd period...Freshmen or not, such actions are not looked upon favorably.

Another Night in The Office: Guarding the Hoser-Dome

Ladies and Hosers, I fully expect that you are all still deservedly reveling in the recent thrashing of the Mainers at their own out-house of an arena. I personally am still getting a kick out of driving around Durham with the head of Banannas dragging behind the back of my car. The fools at USCHO however still have the Mainers sitting atop the polls despite the brutal beating they took at the hands of the good guys in blue. This is obviously the result of every other team in college hockey suffering a case of "suck-itis" (better known as Ben Bishop's Syndrome). So they were allowed to stay in the top spot.....For now. Sooner or later, they will fall of their pedastool and be exposed for the farce they are.

But on to other things, not too long ago, fellow Hoser, Erin presented an interesting idea to me. As all of you know, I am gainfully employed by our beloved home-away from home, the Hoser Dome. However, I have many more duties beyond the on-ice entertainment I provide for all of you. Most of these duties go un-noticed by all of Hoser Nation unfortunately. Today, I invite you all to join me for the 1st annual "Bring the Hosers to Work Day"! This is a never before heard of in-depth look into the day to day operations in our beloved Hoser-Dome.

5pm: This is when I normally arrive to begin my evening shift. After a full day of classes (You know, those large group meetings that Chris Bourque never went to in the short time he had at BU), my mind is fully prepared for a tall order of tasks to complete for the evening. After I get settled into my ultra comfortable lazyboy in the office (courtesy of the entire UNH freshmen class) I quickly glance at this list and then sit back down in the lazyboy and resume settling in.

6pm: At this time I prepare for one of the more unbearable and sad sites ever to be brought upon this Earth. No, I am not referring to the sad attempts of the common BC Douche Bag to not look like a Metrosexual Dimwit. I mean free skate at Lake Whitt. Many a millenia ago, free skate meant a wide open sheet of ice for the Hosers to ride the waters of Lake Whitt on our trusty canoes. That changed when the fools at campus rec decided to rent out skates to any dullard who thought they had the honor of treading those sacred waters. Since that dark day, the whitt has been too clogged with "rental skate" pollution for us noble Hosers to effectively cruise the frozen waters. I take enjoyment in watching their futile efforts in attempting to skate. Occassionally they will ask me to play some music for them over the sound system. I try and play an appropriate soundtrack that suits the miserable failures they are...... I also like to play some Hasselhoff for them..out of the goodness of my heart.

7:30: Slaying the Dragon!!!!!!!

7:35: Get the nets ready for broomball. I find some amusement in watching these games. It's partially because I know that if the Hosers were out there defending our 30 World Championships in the sport, no team would stand a chance. And of course its always worth a laugh watching people fall on their ass while trying to run on ice. Nothing topped tonight's rare treat though. A player attempted to take slapshot and completely missed the ball on the follow through. He then struck an oncmoing opposing player in his groin. I tell you, there is some sort of healing power in watching another person suffer a nutshot.

8pm: At this point, I might actually take a look at this large to do list that consists of:
-Clean up Storage Room
-Move Tables and Chairs from skyboxes back downstairs
-Rearrange Varsity Club
-Move Light Bulbs to electrical room
-Drain and clean zamboni snow pit
-Do a double Zamboni Drive at the end of the night.
Ill get to work on all of these except the last two right now....

8:05: All done with all but the last 2. Now I get to relax in the office lazyboy for a while. I should do some homework and there is plenty of it to....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

9:30pm: what? whoa! Im awake! Now I got out and check up on the broomballers. While making my rounds I encountered a young man that complained to me about how cold the building was and that I should do something about how cold it was in the hockey rink..The ICE hockey rink. I took his statement into consideration and made my way to the back locker room hallway and found my way into the kitchen. I opened the freezer where we keep some of the fish used in Women's games. I took the least frozen one of them all, walked back out to the bench where the guy that complained about how cold the ICE HOCKEY RINK was, and provided him with a cold dose of reality courtesy of a whap upside the head with the fish. I then returned to the office and continued my crossword puzzle.

10pm: Crosswords conquered, time to tackle that Zamboni Snow Pit. After pulling the plug on the drain, I was forced to watch it slowly drain. Just before it fully emptied out, the drain became clogged. I was forced to tackle this issue by jumping into the pit and forcing it open myself..After much prying, I found the source of the clog, the UNH Pep Band had some how marched their way into this pit. I unclogged the drain, but left the band in the pit...I did the job, and solved the noise pollution problem all at the same time...Kinda makes me feel like riverdancing.

11pm: What's that Hunter? (my own dog, who has kicked Lassie's ass 10x over and has been to the moon......twice) There's a flock of River Pigeons on the roof trying to break in? And their trying to cause the scoreboard to crash to the ice?! I'm on it! I make my way to the roof in the torrential Hurricane force weather with my trusty ice scrapper and strike the foul birds down one by one. Just as I take out the last Lowell fowl, the last scoreboard support wire snaps and begins to fall! I manage to grab the main wire and hold it up. Summoning my super-Hoser strength I pull the scoreboard up to its original location and one by one re-tie the wires to their original supports...Then its river pigeon parmesean subs for all!!

12pm: Broomballers finally leave for the night. Time to lockup and do the ice. Theres something of a relaxing feeling that can come over a Hoser when making a clean sheet of ice. Cruising the frozen tundra of Hoser-Dome on my steel vessel is similar to working on a zen garden, especially when I hook up the old Ipod to the sound system. Just as I'm about to ride off the ice and into the moonlight for the evening when THUMP!!!! What the heck?! I must have hit something...Oh crap....I JUST HIT "SHAUN" WITH THE ZAMBONI!! Lockup and Runaway!!!

Well, thats the jist of a typical evening of guarding the Hoser-Dome for me. As you can see, its not an easy job it all...Im just really good at making it easy. Till friday Hosers.

Good Day, eh!
Rouge

Uh Oh, You're from Maine!!

Quotes of the Week: (A tie because both have brought great humor and joy while enduring Orono)

"Yeah, Shaun got hit by a bulldozer."
-Gibber

"Someone come here and hold this so I can pee!"
-Ankur


When you say "Maine Black Bears"!
You said:
Assaulting a baseball team
Forfeit Inducing NCAA Violations
Tainted Titles
Inbred Hicks
Sexual Assault of Barnyard Animals
and of course, Online Sex Predators.

Yup, you really said it all when you speak of the scourge of Hoser Nation themselves, the Mainers. And we Hosers are sacrificing our Sunday to make the journey to the place that God just shakes his head at and wonders "what was I thinking when I made that hole in the ground?". We know this place as Orono. Ah Orono, where the family trees are a straight line and where barnyard animals have their own rape crisis center. Again, yes we went there, on a Sunday where we could have been watching the Patriots instead. The great NH philosopher Lanny Gare said it best when he was once quoted, "Id rather be stabbed in the streets of Lowell than be a Black Bear in Maine".



The average Mainer is a peculiar species. They are found in the most run down shanties, trashiest trailer parks, and in the pit better known as the Alfond Arena. Their lack of teeth and the terrible care given to what teeth they have is evidence of their reknowned inbreeding practices. That terrible smell that just wraps around your throat and chokes you? Yup, probably a Mainer that hasn't had his regular bathing routine of chasing around old Bessie in the rain. The average Mainer also has a knack for exploding into an indiscernible rampage of cursing in their native Mainer tongue when things do not go their way. So outside of the rink, they tend to always sound bitter and angry, especially when the meet an obvious being of higher intelligence and standards. But ladies need not fear these primitive creatures, they are no threat. For no matter how lovely you maybe (and its a known fact UNH ladies are goddess like beauties) if you aren't their cousins, sisters, Aunts, Grandmothers, or a species of barnyard livestock, they probably wont bother you much beyond saying "you got a purrty mouth".

Now for the tales of the great journey. The Hoser Express was fully stocked with a buffet of fine foods, multiple musical gadgets, and of course the Hoser Global Positioning System. We were primed and ready to endure the perilous journey when we encountered an unusual obstacle. A wannabe Hoser was waiting for us in the parking lot with the idea that he was worthy of a seat in the legendary Hoser Express, the envy of all limousines. The express was sold out of seats but being the benevolent group we are, we did not object to him following us in his automobile that bore the strange license plate of "Piaget". The name of this odd individual escaped us all and probably will continue to escape since it's likely that we wont try and know it any time soon, he will be hitherforth known as "Shaun" (it should be noted, that Shaun is to be said in a Mass accent that is similar to the Kennedy's). "Shaun" managed to keep up with the famed Hoser Express for the beginning of this perilous trek. The fool then made a very very unwise decision, and deviated from our predetermined path. We last saw this sad Hoser wannabe heading towards parts unknown of Maine. From the loud and painful sounds of steel striking steel, it can be assumed that "Shaun" became one of the hundreds that fall victim to runaway bulldozers on America's highways.

In recent years, the Alfond has not been a kind to Hoser Nation. Last season however, the good guys in blue broke that jinx in a fitting fashion. The UNH victory sent the desolation better known as Orono into a depression that lasted a month and caused a tremendous rampage of aggravated sexual assault towards barnyard livestock. Tonight's game will probably result in bananas, the UMaine Mascot hanging himself from the rafters of the Alfond.

1st Period. Mr, Radja started things off very well for for the good guys in blue (not pussy blue). Strangely enough though, this game's official Tim "cataracts" Benedetto was calling the game in an unusually lopsided manner. While we Hoser's are true champions of justice, we are not one to complain about Captain cataracts taking a goal off the board from the Mainer's tally. McFlicker then proceeded to make Ben "Genetic study with steroids and horse DNA gone horribly wrong" Bishop look even more foolish than he already looked. The Mr.Radja added more humiliation to Bishop and the rest of the inept Mainers by adding to the score with but only a single second left, while shorthanded. The score after 1..3-0...Optimism was brewing in Hoser Nation accompanied with an increasing risk of anxiety attacks....More bitter whining from Mainers as well.

2nd Period. Any whining the Mainers had been doing in the previous period was appeased by the barrage of penalties called against the good guys in blue. So UNH spent a vast majority of the second period shorthanded, Mr. Regan was apparently ready for the challenge. He managed to turn down more scoring chances for the Mainers than their gap teeth do in their social lives. The Mainers did manage to get two in and give their faithful that faint glimmer of hope that is completely absent from their lives out in the real world outside the Alfond. Mr Switzer however did a perfect impression of Russ Tyler of the Mighty Ducks movies and nailed a perfect knucklepuck past the freakishly tall Bishop. Mr. Butler then decided it was a good time to get his 1st Hockey East Goal for all the Mainers to whine and moan over as they left the 2nd period down 5-2. Easily, the longest 2nd period we Hosers have sat through in some time and the American Heart Association considered intervening as most of us Hosers appeared ready to die of sudden cardiac arrest.

The 3rd period then eased such cardiac pains. Any minute hope held by the Mainers was extinguished when the good guys in blue officially rendered Bishop about as useless as a Proviced education and left the game with his head hung low and in shame (as if being a Black Bear in Maine wasn't shameful enough). 6-2 good guys. Matt "I'm kind've a big deal" Fornataro did his best impression of Santos to Ball by putting up a big bright 7 in the UNH score column of the scoreboard. At this point, the Hosers were presented with the best sight and sound to be brought into the world: The sight of seeing the Alfond clear out and in total deafening silence admit defeat. The Mainers fled like rats from a sinking ship and were left mostly speechless except for the mindless rants about their banners that are as tainted as Barry Bond's Home Run Record. In a fitting ending to the game, The Mayor himself capped it all off and sent the remaining Mainers home crying in their own filth.

I think this really does say it all.

8-2...At the Alfond! An undefeated team, now defeated. A Number 1 team, knocked right off their pedastool by their biggest rival. And a fanbase of intellectually deprived and sexually deviant beastiality lovers left in total silence as if they just realized just how much of a failure they are. Maybe they did have such a religious moment after being taken behind the shed and beaten by Hobey Fornataro and his trusty dragon slaying club that was given to him by John Wayne. One can only hope that they change their ways, cause lords knows, those Mainers have never had a hope since birth.

Well, all is well in Hoser Nation again, we are back safe and sound, the head of bananas the black bear is on a stick in front of the Wildcat statue for all to appreciate, and we have now won 2 in a row at the Alfond. I sign off with this important message though, be sure to remember it is still Runaway Bulldozer Awareness Month in Hoser Nation, and its up to you to make sure that no more innocent NH residents do not meet the same agonizing fate as poor "Shaun"

Good day, eh!

Rouge

Sucks to %$#^ BU!!

Hoser's note: The quote of the week will be awarded upon conclusion of the weekend games, as will be the trend from now on. A lot of intellectual pieces of information can be said in one weekend by us Hosers you know!


Everyone watch your mother #%$&$^ language! The Boston $%#$ University D%$$# Poodles are in town! That's right Ladies and Hosers, the inaugural winners of The Hockey East Pottymouth School of the Year are bringing their foul mouth's to the Hoser-Dome!

Boston U has always had a soft spot in the heart of Hoser Nation, no it has nothing to do with them beating Maine in the 95 Frozen 4, nor does it have anything to do with their constant fixation on taunting BC even when they aren't playing them. One particular BU player will always have a home at the Hoser-Dome whether he wants to admit it or not. Mr. Ryan Whitney, the greatest BU defensemen in UNH history. Was it not for his tireless efforts to aid the good guy's in blue in the 2003 Hockey East Championship, who knows what ungodly apocalyptic world we would be in today. To this day, the Hosers continue to petition to have his number retired and raised to the rafters of the Hoser-Dome so that all can remember his greatness. But that is not all, oh no. After all, Boston University managed to grab the attention of the entire college hockey world for their foul mouths. So here in these scriptures. We officially recognize the Poodles of Boston University with the Official Pottymouth School of the Year Award. Congratulations on earning yourself an honor almost as low as Chris Bourque's GPA before he bolted for Canada!

On to the game. The game started out with an unusual site, one of the BU staff actually attempted to walk the treacherous water of Lake Whitt in high heels and a mini skirt. Many speculate she was the BU "massage specialist".She succeeded in crossing the waters somehow Most of Durham was terrified soon after that, as it appeared the end of the world was coming because the dead were walking among the living once again!!! Terror turned into confusion when the zombie in question began to whine profusely about insignificant things he had no control over. All the Hoser-Dome then groaned in agony as we realized that this was no zombie at all..... It was just Jack Parker.

This week, I took in the game from the West side of Lake Whitt (and got paid for it). Right from the start, everyone knew this would be a game that would look more like a prizefight. Unfortunately, I had to enjoy this prizefight while listening to the mindless yipping and profanity of BU Poodle fans. It was a sad sad thing, they continue to live in the delusion that they are always playing BC and cheered like it was so. Not that I don't appreciate some good mockery towards BC anytime.

The scoring went back and forth a few times late in the game with some pretty goals for the good guys in blue, and some hideous ones that make the average UML Puck Bunny look like Jessica Simpson. Some particularly nice goals from Mr. Fortney and of course his excellence, Matt " I eat success for breakfast with skim milk" Fornataro. That goal ultimately landed him on the list for those up being cannonized as Saints by the Vatican. Sadly, with a minute left and a penalty kill for UNH, the Poodles capitalized and tied the score late. With more idiocy from "faux fans" in the form of throwing garbage on the ice (that behavior is not a good thing, regardless of what some douche bag moron who dares to call himself a hockey fan but will not be named may think). With a penalty marred overtime, UNH's PK was tested strongly. Fortunately, they succeeded. Unfortunately, in the short time we spent at even strength were we unable to take the game, and we forced to settle for a tie. Against a strong BU club, It could have been a lot worse. Despite some gaffs here and there, the good guys in blue fought very hard and played a very gritty game against this physical Poodle team. Unfortunately, Hoser Nation's hopes of seeing the Ghost of Ryan Whitney possess an unfortunate BU player to further aid us Hoser's were dashed. But he will soon come back to haunt them, soon he will.

Sunday approaches Hosers, be sure to pack a sense of class, an ability to date within your own species and outside the family tree and brush your teeth, because none of the above are found where we are heading. The Societal Abyss that is Orono awaits us. Until then as always.

Good day, eh!
Rouge

The Greatest Story in the History of Mankind

Quote of the Week:
"I was definitely in a little slump. I don't know how to explain it. It felt like I lost my virginity."
-Brett Hemmingway

NOW WITH PHOTOGRAPHY!!!!

Ladies and Hosers, I come to you live tonight from my stately apartment that reeks of rich mahogany, and im currently in a very unusual predicament at the moment. Its tuesday night, and I have no gargantuan pile of homework, im not confined to the office of our beloved Hoser-Dome, and I have no funds at the moment to make a journey downtown to find out where all the rum has gone in this town, and then test it's quality. What to do, what to do?

Now, while the common UML folk would use this time like they always use their time, stab, avoid being stabbed, and then do drugs while stabbing. Residents of BC would enjoy some more techno music and drink more wine coolers. And of course, the Mainers would go out and do things that should get them arrested for Aggravated Sexual Assault of an Animal. I however, will take my time for the benefit of all of you. I will now tell you the greatest and best story of all time.

This is an entirely true story: Though some facts have been creatively exaggerated to dumbfound the Dutch. Why the Dutch, because Austin Powers 3 was simply not enough in terms of poking fun at them.

The story begins as so. We Hosers had made a great pilgrimage to Vermont for our traditional "Welcome to Hockey East, but your still not as cool as us" visit. I must say, I have never seen such a mass gathering of so many angry pot smokers in one tiny building. On a side note, UVM promotions dept swore never to do another "lucky poker chip" promotion after they realized mentioning the word chip in a building filled with kids who clearly have the munchies was a very bad idea. After the UVM set the pottymouthed potsmokers straight, and after we Hosers sent a pair of UMV wenches packing after they were heard making several puck-bunny type references and attempting to pry me away from the rest of the Hosers, we made our way to our next destination. While I can understand the girl's attraction to me (I am a truly devastatingly handsome Hoser), but they would have to take a number and wait in line.

The next stop was SLU(T) and the Northeast's coldest fire hazard better known as Appleton Arena. This building took rustic to whole new levels as the entire building looked like a hap-hazard project done by forestry technology major. Of course the good guys in blue were victorious over SLU(T) and we were happy to take this win and get out of the building before we got anymore splinters from just walking around the building.

The great Hoser convoy then made our way back towards our temporary headquarters in Burlington. Much of the journey took us directly alongside the Canadian Border. Those who have ever been near the border already know this..There is absolutely nothing up there. No decent homes, no eating establishments, no scenery, no clear signs of intelligent life, and no hope whatsoever...So yeah, its a lot like The Umaine campus.

After what seemed like 2 days worth of driving across Northern NY, we finally crossed over into Vermont and found a very small snow covered village in our path. After driving a short distance into the town we crossed over a small bridge and noticed we were short one car in our convoy, we stopped in a mini mall parking lot to wait for them. It was then we saw our missing group stopped on said bridge with what appeared to be a Police SUV right behind it with lights on and turning. Naturally, the rest were perplexed at just who would have the audacity to pull over a Hoser and to what half baked charges they would be possibly placing on said Hosers. After a few minutes, our fellow Hosers appeared to have been let go and joined us in the parking lot. We did not know why they looked so crestfallen, until we saw the group of Police Issue SUV's join us in the parking lot with the lights still going. It was then we realized we were pulled over by Border Patrol. Now, while we Hosers always have a certain level of respect for law enforcement, but the Border Patrol officers we encountered that evening were not worthy of such respect. They came up to our vehicle then questioned the Pandaman's ( Andy, aka Hoser of War) ability to pay attention while driving. Now, this Hoser is a regular driver of the legendary Hoser Express and can navigate anywhere with our without any directions present. This mass gathering of slow minded border patrol were clearly so bored, they felt it was necessary to pull us over with a SWAT team like effort for an alleged......stop sign violation. It was also clear to us that this slovenly officer was clearly envious and bitter at the fact that we are clearly a superiorly intelligent breed and that he had to settle for going to Proviced after UNH rejected him.Ironically, while we sat parked on the side of the road attempting to reason with these bafoons, a large bus happened to drive by. That same bus then began to slow down to get a better look at our situation. It was then we relized that the bus belonged to the UNH Hockey team, who were not too far behind us in our quest home. After nearly stopping to gawk at our current situation and to what we hoped was calling Batman to help us out (he owes me) they then made their way back to Durham. We proceeded to confound the Neanderthal officers with our superior rhetoric until a local officer made his way over to reclaim his jurisdiction. This officer, while he may not have had the same federal standing as those oafish border patrolmen, he clearly knew greatness when he saw it. Though he stood by the border patrolmen's claim that we all ran a stop sign, he chose to let us off with a written warning which is of course better than probably what the border patrol oafs had in mind. After the officer wished us well, we gave him an honorary Hoser scout badge for his efforts in standing up to the border patrol. Those border patrol officers who dared to slow our voyage have since been demoted to mere local park pooper scoopers. After being released we made our way back to the temporary headquarters, and then bolted our way out of that sad and poorly constructed imitation of NH that is Vermont.

A Hoser Crime Scene Unit has yet to locate this phantom stop sign. Scholars maintain that the border patrolmen were paid off by the Vermont Government so that they could keep us here in order to attempt to finally further imitate NH. Also of note, once we arrived back in Durham, we noticed several of the players asking us to autograph some 8x10's of us being pulled over at the side of the road in Vermont.

The End!!

If that isn't a feel good story, I don't know what is. Until Friday when the pottymouths come to the Hoser-Dome

Good Day, eh!
Rouge

NUtering Huskies and dodging death on Mass Ave

Quote of The Week:
"I was definitely in a little slump. I don't know how to explain it. It felt like I lost my virginity."
-Brett Hemmingway

Live from Hoser Tower, its the Hoser Home and Home report! The inaugural reports features the Boston school that everyone forgets, the Huntington Avenue Learning Annex Huskies were coming to town and then we would be paying them a visit the next night.


Game 1 of the weekend tilt had these regularly NUtered dogs trekking the perilous waters of Lake Whittemore within the hostile confines of the Hoser-Dome. The Huskies were coming off an unusually great weekend in the cess-pool of the West (that is of course Michigan to those from Mich St and Ohio St..Maine holds that title in the East) and of course the good guys in blue had themselves a tough weekend after the debocles against Yale and Um-ass (Tom Fyrer has since been brutalized by the Maine Hockey team after we disguised in baseball attire and exiled him in Maine). Despite the good weekend they had in Ann Arbor, NU continued their trend of being the cure for the uncommonly bad weekend for Hoser Nation. Before we get into the game. It must be noted that a pair of our more beloved (one of them is notably one of our most profanic) Hosers, overcame a tremendous obstacle during their treacherous journey towards glorious Lake Whittemore. Nick and Erin (aka Granpa Hoser and PinkHatHater) unfortunately had to drive through the riverside urban wasteland that is Lowell on their way here. In a clear and poorly constructed assassination attempt, a lowly Mainer attempted to take out these noble Hosers in a shotty hit and run. While their vehicle was destroyed in a fiery explosion, the Hosers survived, captured said Mainer, strapped him to a dog sled, and made the sad abomination of nature pull them the rest of the way. It should also be noted that they hunted and killed a river pigeon for food and even had enough leftovers to feed the entire student section. For their efforts, dedication, and resourcefulness, they earned the Hoser Silver Molson Medal of Honor. Such an honor has only been issued to the likes of Bruce Willis, Tom Brady, Curt Schilling, Abraham Lincoln, Fornataro (7x winner), MacGuyver, Maggie Joyce, and Chuck Norris.

On to the game, Trevor "Mayor of Hoser Nation" Smith continued his campaign for greatness with a 2 goal and 1 assist effort. After spending a better part of the week wearing the proverbial dunce cap, Hemi and Mr. Regan broke out of their slumps and turned out excellent efforts. This evening's sieve continued to show that the Hosers are still the leading cause of depression and outright failure (not that anybody from Northeastern ever needed any help with failure) among sieves by giving up an early barrage of goals in the 3rd period. It should also be noted that the hex has once again regained its voodoo like prowess. It should also be noted that Matt "I make Arnold Schwarzenegger look like Macauly Culkin" Fornataro scored 2,000,000,000 goal in his 200 year career which secured his seventh AL Gold Glove, 10th Heisman trophy, and 17th Nobel Peace Prize. Friday Night's final: 6-3 good guys. All us Hosers left with almost no voices left as we put on a concert of sorts singing rock and roll part II with multiple encore requests (like the way it should be).

Game 2 and the Hoser Express rides again! The Hoser Express underwent some serious rennovations over the off season as it now comes complete w/fire fighter gear, heavy duty flash lights, fire lights, and most of all a glass bottom view in the back seat area! (It is recommended however to not put any objects near this glass bottom area if you want to keep them..and feet as well or other appendages) Upon crossing into the abysmal-ness that is Massachusetts we were greeted with a 30 mile traffic jam as a result a of a staged accident setup by the Mass State Police so that everyone from Peabody to Saugus could revel in our great presence. Now once we entered the Boston city limits, us 4 hosers decided to do some unplanned scouting around the Mass Ave/Commonwealth Avenue area of Boston. This intelligence mission ensured that we Hosers knew exactly where we were going come February for when we visit the miniature toy poodles of BU. After relizing our mission was cutting us close on time, we made a death defying high speed drive to NU while dodging enemy pedestrians, poorly parked cars, and Massachusetts drivers in general. The carnage was an unbelievable site and it would make the most hardcore demolition drivers crawl into the fetal position and cry like a BU Woman's goalie (we did stop by to offer our condolences to her and refer her to an excellent psychiatrist for her Hoser induced depression). After making many calls to numerous sources, we 4 decided to make various turns that inevitably did eventually bring us to old Matthews Arena. With our territory having already been marked in the parking from visits long ago, we made a long mad dash towards the rink. There were few survivors that dared to stand in the path of our raging stampede to the doors. After a minor issue at the door (personally, I think being the elite and brilliant Hoser I am, tickets should only be a mere formality) the whole Litterbox crew gathered under our glorious banner in the Old Matthews Arena balcony.

Our opposing fan base was of course the Dog house and like usual they attempted to compensate for their clear and debilitating inability to form coherent and intelligent taunts by using plastic horns and primitive hand gestures using the ever so classy middle finger. A small contingency also had an obvious oral fixation as they repeated the word "sucks" after everything we said. We were rather disappointed our friends from our last visit were not present (apparently they relized the whole "average white homeboy" gimmick was about as intelligent as the average Proviced student, not very at all).

Anyways, on to the game. While the Huntington Ave Learning Annex did technically score 1st, their scorekeeper however practiced the rarely seen act of courtesy and respect given to Hosers for their inspiring presence of giving us the 1st goal of the game rather than taking the goal they actually scored. After much debate and assisting the scorekeeper putting the circle block with the circle portion of his child's puzzle, the score was set right...But it did not last...The good guys in blue got on the board without any courtesy points from the opposition with the usual tally from Mayor Smith, and some more help from Murray and Fritch. An abnormally large assist should be given to the litterbox as it was our rendition of Oh, Canada that inspired the offense to start a scoring assault that would make the entire Great White North proud to be loosely affiliated with us NH Hosers. Mr.Regan also returned to doing what he does best: Stopping opposing shooters to the point they just give up being hockey players and become mold farmers deep in Siberia. Different night, different building, same pleasant result. We proved to be the best when it came to serenading others with our rendition of Rock and Roll part II. We left old Matthews the way we like to leave any visiting arena; victorious, with opposing fans crying in their own filth while flipping us off in the usual futile manner, and with them questioning their very purpose in the world. After a slight detour over the Charles River we had a rare celebrity sighting just before the Tobin Bridge. The Wicked Witch of the West and her gargantuan nose had apparently made a visit to Boston that evening. After giving her a few autographs and the name of a good plastic surgeon. We rode off into the moonlight after a successful 1st road trip of the year.


Definetly a good way to get back on track and an even better start to the road trip season. We Hosers still love that dirty water, but we love winning down by the banks of the River Charles even more. Another tough weekend ahead, the BU pottymouths will enter the Hoser-Dome friday and then we brave the horrors and obvious failures that are the Mainers of Orono. Get some rest hosers, another weekend of bringing greatness to the world (yes, even Orono) awaits.

Good day, eh!
Rouge

5 Games in 4 Days: A Hoser Epic, The Conclusion: Making Sieves Cry

Quote of the Week
Darci: I love it. I asked hm what his major was, and he told me, "Geography"
Matt: So...he can take pictures of rocks?

EDIT
Silver Medal Honor (too good to not post): "It is never wise to upset a grizzly bear, especially when he's been drinking"
-My American Studies Professor...Hopefully by this weekend I'll be able to explain what this means


Sunday! Sunday! Sunday! The final day of the marathon Hoser weekend was a windy one. The waters of the Atlantic Ocean (AKA A-lot) have receded. The Sun is shining again, and Tom Fyrer still sits in the Hoser Dungeon awaiting his date with the stockades and we are still pissed at him. And like usual, when things do not go well in the world of the Hosers; we look towards the Women of the Whitt to set things right in Hoser Nation.

Today, the Women's team played host to the 2006 Hockey East Pottymouth School of the year, none other than BU. Now, we in Hoser Nation already have composed a 200 page report on the infinite shortcomings of these unfortunate souls so we were not short on material in terms of mockery from the start. When your fanbase holds a strange obsession with BC to the point they include them in their cheers even they are not even playing BC, and the initials of your school can be used against you in so many manners, not to mention your fans are so needlessly foul mouthed, you have to make rules against profanity and then having the rest of the country making fun of you for it after they see it on the news, you really dont need much else more to work with. But like always, BU just continues to add on to that list on a regular basis. Today was no exception.

The BU women's hockey team is truly just a sad, sad tale. Not only are they a club team that continues to live the lie that they are an actual division 1 women's team (denial is such an ugly thing sometimes) and they do not even have the right to play their own school's brand new arena! This team is confined to the sewer catacombs better known as the Walter Brown Arena. Hoser Scholars maintain that the members of this team are rarely allowed to leave the basement of that arena and are kept on a steady regimen of raw fish (not sushi, but fish pulled right out of the Charles River). How this lifestyle actually breeds success is not completely known, but hey, let them try it out and see how they do against our girls......like nobody already knows what will happen.

Not surprisingly, we struck 1st. What happened next is one of every good Hoser's objectives while at a game, and its also one of the worst things an opposing player good possibly do. BU's goaltender allowed us Hosers in attendance to see her frustration over her obvious inability to stop the NH offense. Tsk Tsk, bad dog, not a good idea. From then on out, this unfortunate soul was our prime target.

Armed with our standard array of self esteem destroying cat-calls (no pun intended). We proceded to remind her of the sad fact that she is a sieve. She was born one, she still is one, and she will probably die a sieve. No amount of dirty looks she directed towards our group could deter our efforts as usual. The more she made her frustration obvious, the more we put our Hoser magic to work. Strangely enough, Hoser magic could not prevent one such Hoser from being fooled by her t-shirt in terms of exactly what side was the front and what was the back. After a lengthy and slightly difficult struggle with said t-shirt, Momma Hoser corrected this malfunction and got back to work with taunting this sieve. When the game was clearly in hand, the terrier sieve limped her way over to the bench and let the tear ducts spill out on the shoulder of her head coach. My ice crew comrades were forced to come out on to ice to mop up the gargantuan puddle that she had created while bauling her eyes out. After receiving a big hug and being told by the coach that was still special, in her own way still pretty, and that she did not look fat in those hockey pants she found her way back to the goal and endured the rest of the afternoon. The final buzzer went off, and surprise surprise, another women's win, another shutout win, and another vicious Maggie Joyce beatdown that could make Dracula wet his pants. No matter how much BU's coach complained, we arent going anywhere, we certainly wont stop reminding her and the rest of the world of the fact we are just too cool for our own good, and that nobody was going to let them out of that basement they live in anyday soon no matter how much it may smell.

The weekend score added up to a modest 3 wins out of 5 for our teams. Not bad, not exactly great though. The ideal weekend for the Hosers would be a complete sweep of UNH victories, Matt Fornataro stopping the terrorists (which he did with nothing more than a bow and arrow made of a rubber band, a pen, and a paper clip) BC finally giving up on clinging to the legacy of Doug Flutie like its their last breath (no disrespect to Mr. Flutie, any Hoser owes the man a molson for his time with the Pats), the return of the Quebec Nordiques, Winnipeg Jets, and Hartford Whalers to the NHL, and the United States of America finally kicking the state of Maine out of the union and Canada not even accepting them.

Well ladies and Hosers, thank you for staying tuned to this special weekend edition of the Hoser Nation blog. The Hoser Express rides again this weekend when we make our way down Huntington Ave to old Matthews Arena and reclaim our litter-box territory.

Good day and Happy Halloween, eh!
Rouge