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I am Defecting

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  14. What would it take to abandon the tank next year?

    in The Aud Club

    Posted

    What would it take to abandon the tank? It would take a new owner of the Buffalo Sabres. Since we're all friends here, let me tell you that we'd have to persuade the Grand Pegula of the Buffalo Sabres, that he is a loser. We're going to have to install a winner at the head of the organization. We will have to shed a top-down trying-to-lose owner, that is pervading every action that we make, off-ice and on-ice. And we will begin to shed a top-down trying-to-lose mentality, that has pervaded every aspect of the organization, and has begun to corrupt the entire City of Buffalo.

     

    Plan B, if there's no convincing Grand P. he is a loser, we'll have to angrily set our sights on Boca Raton, where the man behind the curtain is setting the course and giving ultimate direction to the tank. We'll have to take every opportunity to embarrass and insult him, without overstepping the boundaries of good grace and humor. When Ruff was fired, it was because of national pressure, kindled by local fire, and it will be the same with us chasing off Terry "the shackler" Pegula. This isn't a tank, folks, it's a submarine, and the only way up, is by getting rid of the one man who is forcing us down. #WINNING

     

     

     

     

     

  16. Thank you Terry and Ted

    in The Aud Club

    Posted

    Sorry for the double-post. Just wanted to confirm the fact that I'm GoDD's Soviet propagandist:

     

    LaLa Land is the place where I’ve got unlimited bottles of Old Vienna, and have already got a good buzz on, but I never get too drunk. I’ve got nothing to do tomorrow in LaLa Land, except read the News and check out SabreSpace; so Patty LaFontaine, Ted Nolan and I can shoot the $#!+ until late in the night, and wake up feeling like we had some great conversations, got a lot off our chests, and see things in a new light. Patty sucks at pool, and Ted and I get a kick out of that, in LaLa Land.

     

    In LaLa Land, there aren’t any non-disclosure agreements, and I never feel guilty about telling them everything. Like last year, about this day, Lindy Ruff had been fired, but Darcy Regier was still in office. Let me preface this by saying, that I’ve never had anything against either of those dudes. Lindy ain’t a bad coach, and Darcy ain’t a bad GM, but their time had run out, which is to say, that the foundation that they were standing on was sand, and they slipped through the hourglass.

     

    So, about this time last year, I’d come to the conclusion that Pegula wasn’t actually a huge Sabre fan. I started looking into his past, all the way back to Carbondale, PA. In LaLa Land, it’s like a bar, so some pretty sketchy stuff comes to the surface. Turns out that Pegula’s dad was mining the anthracite that the Mafia controlled. The boss was Russell Bufalino. There were indistinguishable ties to Buffalo. “Your should google Bufalino,” I told Patty. Can you imagine that a mafia boss named Bufalino based in the anthracite mines of Northern PA, would seek to control a city in Western New York, that needs anthracite to smelt steel. “No way,” Patty said. “This is a book for someone else,” I told them, but the man that we know as the owner of the Buffalo Sabres was formed solid in that environment, got his start under Buffalino, and that man was set in the direction of natural gas and that direction headed back to Buffalo.

     

    So, about this non-disclosure agreement, I suppose that takes precedence over truth, and that’s all well and good. I realize that I just need a better contract that’ll supersede the current contracts. I’ve got to hire the better liar, to make enough money to hire the lawyers. I’m thinking of selling drugs in LaLa Land, but it may take a lot more than that. Possibly prostitutes. Possibly dual-purpose child sex-slaves, because I they’d be happier doing chores between sessions. I’ll have to rely heavily on the non-disclosure agreements till we can fashion a better contractual agreement. Something below the truth is what I’m aiming for in LaLa Land, and the further the better.

     

    They got a contract. #nowayout. Unless we pull a Ukraine on Yanukovich Terry, in which case, who will play Putin? My guess is that Warren Buffet’s been waiting for the right opportunity to own a hockey team. Why else would he have bought the Buffalo News? As you can imagine, things can get pretty far out there in LaLa Land. Thanks Patty, for buying the last round.

  17. Shake up in the office PAT LaFONTAINE RESIGNS

    in The Aud Club

    Posted · Edited by Yuri Olesha

    LaLa Land is the place where I’ve got unlimited bottles of Old Vienna, and have already got a good buzz on, but I never get too drunk. I’ve got nothing to do tomorrow in LaLa Land, except read the News and check out SabreSpace; so Patty LaFontaine, Ted Nolan and I can shoot the $#!+ until late in the night, and wake up feeling like we had some great conversations, got a lot off our chests, and see things in a new light. Patty sucks at pool, and Ted and I get a kick out of that, in LaLa Land.

     

    In LaLa Land, there aren’t any non-disclosure agreements, and I never feel guilty about telling them everything. Like last year, about this day, Lindy Ruff had been fired, but Darcy Regier was still in office. Let me preface this by saying, that I’ve never had anything against either of those dudes. Lindy ain’t a bad coach, and Darcy ain’t a bad GM, but their time had run out, which is to say, that the foundation that they were standing on was sand, and they slipped through the hourglass.

     

    So, about this time last year, I’d come to the conclusion that Pegula wasn’t actually a huge Sabre fan. I started looking into his past, all the way back to Carbondale, PA. In LaLa Land, it’s like a bar, so some pretty sketchy stuff comes to the surface. Turns out that Pegula’s dad was mining the anthracite that the Mafia controlled. The boss was Russell Bufalino. There were indistinguishable ties to Buffalo. “Your should google Bufalino,” I told Patty. Can you imagine that a mafia boss named Bufalino based in the anthracite mines of Northern PA, would seek to control a city in Western New York, that needs anthracite to smelt steel. “No way,” Patty said. “This is a book for someone else,” I told them, but the man that we know as the owner of the Buffalo Sabres was formed solid in that environment, got his start under Buffalino, and that man was set in the direction of natural gas and that direction headed back to Buffalo.

     

    So, about this non-disclosure agreement, I suppose that takes precedence over truth, and that’s all well and good. I realize that I just need a better contract that’ll supersede the current contracts. I’ve got to hire the better liar, to make enough money to hire the lawyers. I’m thinking of selling drugs in LaLa Land, but it may take a lot more than that. Possibly prostitutes. Possibly dual-purpose child sex-slaves, because I think they’d be happier doing chores. I’ll have to rely heavily on the non-disclosure agreements till we can fashion a better contractual agreement. Something below the truth is what I’m aiming for in LaLa Land, and the further the better.

     

    They got a contract. #nowayout. Unless we pull a Ukraine on Yanukovich Terry, in which case, who will play Putin? My guess is that Warren Buffet’s been waiting for the right opportunity to own a hockey team. Why else would he have bought the Buffalo News? As you can imagine, things can get pretty far out there in LaLa Land. Thanks Patty, for buying the last round.

  23. Bury the Pegula Hatchet

    in The Aud Club

    Posted · Edited by Yuri Olesha

    Shut up, you fools, and let me rest in peace! I died in 1960, for Christ's sake, and it wasn't from happiness!

     

    Yuri is but a simple agrarian worker.

     

    So was Tolstoy, you son of a bitch!

     

    Listen, we got Ruff fired, and Regier fired, and Rolston fired. The three R's. Now, what else is there to accomplish? I know, I know, deep in your hearts you might be hanging on to some shred of hope we might also be able to topple the Grand Pegula, but I'm here to tell you, that's a fairy tale, a children's book, some fanciful story you might read to your kids at night, with the utmost sincerity, without ever believing yourself.

     

    You'll point to Rigas, as proof that fairy tales do come true. Let me nip that in the bud, right now, by pointing out that "Pegula," starts with a "P," and we have no prior success in ousting people whose name begins with "P," nor ever will, at this rate. Think about it.

     

    In order to remain reincarnated as a disenfranchised Russian novelist, with a score to settle, I need some sort of basis in reality. We exposed Pegula as a fracker, and that didn't work. We brought him to trial as a meddler, and that didn't work. We even implicated him in the Sandusky scandal, as a kiddie fiddler, and he came out none the worse.

     

    I give up. We took out three of his consigliaries, and that's enough for me. In my first incarnation, I took on Stalin, made some headway in the 20's and 30's, but all the while, the big guy was consolidating power, and growing in influence, and knocking off rivals, and look at him now, embalmed forever and resting in peace in the Red Square with hundreds of daily visitors! I'm lucky if a passerby recognizes my name at my modest Novodevichy digs.

     

    Forget about it. I'm not drinking myself to death again, disillusioned and bitter. Like I told the guys who hijacked my radio signal ;) , put a statue of me up at the Buffalo News, facing the M'arena, and I'll go back to the grave a happy man. Till then, I'll be running an urban farm in Buffalo, eking out a modest living, selling heirloom vegetables to local restaurants.

     

    To hell with Pegula! Embalm the son of a bitch already, just let me enjoy my hockey. Go Sabres!

  24. Bury the Pegula Hatchet

    in The Aud Club

    Posted

    "What then is the Sun? There is nothing in my human life that could have been managed, without the participation of the Sun, be that participation overt or hidden, actual or metaphoric. Whatever I have done, wherever I have gone, whether asleep, awake, or in darkness. Whether as a young man, or an old one, I have always been on the tip of a sunbeam"

     

    Farewell, friends.

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