Appropriate: Congrats to the Wizard

You know what's pretty awesome?

• Team leaders coming to the coach, asking for their veteran 3-ring goaltender to get a shot at his 400th win in front of a home crowd.

You know whats even more awesome?

• Even after a disappointment in front of the aforementioned home crowd, the aforementioned veteran 3-ring future-hall-of-famer (yes he motherfucking is, damnit!!) getting that 400th win against the Colorado Avalanche.

Seriously. Other than the Joe, the Av's home ice is the best damn place for this little bit of Red Wings history to be cemented. Some of the best hockey the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz has ever been a part of occurred against that team, on that ice. Where better for Ozzie to again show the world that he's a gamer?

From what I understand, Ozzie stood on his head and earned that win for the team. I say it this way because I was in a position where I wasn't able to actually watch the game. Again, completely fitting. I got to listen to the glory on a scratchy radio, with the soothing sounds of Ken Kal shouting out the action occurring on the ice. Just like old days, where because of the late starts against the Quebec Nordique's II: The Reckoning, I was relegated to listening to the ends of games in my room while I was supposed to be asleep. Hearing Ozzie's 400th (hall of fame) cemented in the same way I took in many of those wins back in the days of The Rivalry seemed all too fitting.

Now, this is one heck of an accomplishment. Oz is only the 10th goaltender of all time to reach the 400 win mark (hall of fame). Though, we should be careful not to get too carried away here. It was kind of a struggle for the Wizard to finally reach the historic mark (hall of fame). We can't allow this accomplishment, as amazing as it is (hall of fame), to somehow make us go overboard and read more into it than what it is. In other words, we need to be reasonable.

Ha. Logic and reason. That's funny.

Presenting...

The Winged Wheel's List of Shit that 400 Means for The Wizard

• A guaranteed first-ballot spot in the Hockey Hall of Fame as well an entire wing dedicated to his legend;
• A new NHL rule that forces all incoming goaltenders to get full-scale tattoos of Ozzie's face on their inner thighs;
• A final agreement between all the world-religions about the meaning of life and what specific rituals please the omnipotent;
• Energized by the good vibes, Jiri "zap his dick" Hudler turns things around and finds a way to end up with 145 points by the end of game 82 (ha, comedy is fun);
• Rain clouds cease to precipitate dihydrogen oxide and start pouring Pepsi. All the world's crops die and the the four horsemen of the apocalypse appear on the horizon, but I'll be damned if Chris Osgood isn't seen dancing in the streets and drinking from gutters on a daily basis;
• Gary Bettman turns to a pillar of salt;
• How do you feel about "President Chris Osgood"? Doesn't matter. It's happening. Constitutional citizenship requirements be damned;
• Trolls and pens fans that use that super-original term "Wasgood"will be shot in the brain by federal marshalls;
• Did I mention the Hockey Hall of Fame yet?

Ozzie, good on ya. You deserve it. Good news for the Wings too, as so far this season, Ozzie's had more good starts than he's had lousy ones. Keep it up Oz, 4 more to make Grant Fuhr your eternal bitch.

And for the haters? 

Atta boy, Oz. Now lets add another ring to that finger. Next stop, #12.

With Apologies: This one's apparently not on Larry

We like to give Mr. Aurie a tough time around here for bending the roster over last year and having his way with it. To be fair, he's been a lot more generous to us this year as we've actually been able to ice a team that was not mostly made up of the Grand Rapids Griffins. Recently, though, it's seemed like he's made a bit of a resurgence.

Pavs, after a wonderful little Christmas present from our old friend Mikael "bag o' dicks" Samuelsson, ended up busting his hand something good - keeping him out of our lineup for a solid month. Then, last night...

...Cleary suffered a fractured left ankle in the third period when he was hit by teammate Brad Stuart's shot. He will be out at least four weeks.

Khan - via MLive

Son of a bitch.

But wait! I may have been a bit hasty here. Sure, like a stripper with daddy issues I may have every reason not to open my heart and trust. Larry's dicked us over time and time again. But this time... there may be a new culprit.

When asked to "air his grievances" in honor of Festivus, Todd had this to say:

"Dan Cleary for feeling fantastic every day he puts on his equipment," Bertuzzi said. "Pavel Datsyuk for having the sickest set of hands I've ever seen - he doesn't even have to stickhandle, he can still have a good game." 

St. James - via Freep

Sorry Larry.

Apparently, to no one's surprise, Todd Fucking Bertuzzi has black magic powers that can destroy even the heartiest of men. Bert mentioned that he's got a problem with Pavel Datsyuk for being really god damn good. Though, he made sure to get specific. The Todd didn't seem to like Datsyuk's hands. Hours after that quote was published? Broken hand.

• Well Merry Fucking Christmas right back atcha, Todd.

And really Bert? You have a problem with Dany Cleary because he's not injured all the time? Well fuck him in thirds! How dare he not have a broken foot!

• Oh. Problem solved I guess huh 'Tuz? That'll learn him.

Turns out, based on the soundest of science, this current spat of injuries doesn't rest on the angry wrath of Larry Aurie seeking justice and his number 6 hanging from the rafters (Hang it High, Mr. I!). This little hiccup comes gift-wrapped from our good friend Todd.

At least that's all he said.

Oh wait.

"...Drew Miller just for sitting next to me. Chris Osgood for just being Ozzie..."

Son of a bitch.

Drew, watch your ass. Bert had a problem with Pasha's hands and he broke one. He's got a problem with you sitting. I'd be mighty cautious about who or what gets near your badonkadonk (sorry for the overly-technical medical terminology).

As for Ozzie... we'll he's got a problem with you for just, uh, being. We can only hope you live long enough to get #400. To be honest... it's not looking good.

Watch what you say, Bert. Crazy shit tends to happen when you open that evil little mouth. If you've got to air grievances, why not complain about how much Thid Rosby's ACL annoys you, or how you're sick and tired of trains not crashing through claude lemieux's living room?

Ozzie's got another shot at 400 tonight against the nordiques. The rivalry may be dead, but it doesn't mean I hate those fuckers any less. Lets make it happen.

Blue Christmas: The Holidays in Hockeytown

Well, Santa is dead.

Either that, or he decided everything's been going so well for the people of Detroit lately that he needed to even things out. One thing's for sure, he's a motherfucker.

Dats is hurt for a month, the Wings are barely trotting along at a .500 pace this month, and our dominance over the conference is starting to slip a bit. Knowing this team, it's clearly just a hiccup - but that doesn't mean that hiccups aren't fucking annoying. In fact, if you've ever had hiccups, you know that they piss you and everyone around you off and you normally want them over as fast as fucking possible. I guess what I'm saying is:

• Fuck the hiccups.

Tonight was just the latest mishap in the relative shitshow that has been the month of December. Losing our last game before Christmas leaves quite the bitter taste in the mouth. As such, I decided to hammer out the following bit of holiday prose.

A Winged Wheel Very Fucky Christmas*

'Twas two nights before Christmas, when all through the rink

The whole Red Wings roster decided to stink.

Outhustled, outworked, outscored, and outshot,

Defensive lapses, open men in the slot.

During preceding weeks, this became quite a trend,

Making Hockeytown cry, "Oh when will this end?!"

You see, us Wings fans are a real spoiled troop,

Winning is something we're rather used to.

Losing, really, is just not our style

Leave that to the Oil, the Hawks, or the Isle

But lately our heros have looked rather bland

Going only .500 over a ten game span.

Not to mention how tough it has been

To finally snag Ozzie's 400th win.

But that night was supposed to be a real changer;

The Blues aren't a team that causes much danger.

Over the years, without any glitches,

The Wings have been able to make them their bitches.

But, apparently the guys had other shit on their mind;

Getting a win was just not worth their time.

Rafalski had basically been cashed out for a while

The last couple games he had played like a pile. (You know... of shit.)

Presumably he had other ideas in his brain;

Wrapped gifts, Christmas dinner, New Year's champagne.

Perhaps the same happened with his colleague, big Bert,

Who was dreaming of puppies and kittens to hurt.

And Homer didn't seem to play quite like himself

For sure, he must have been think of an elf.

That speedy young Helm, he just couldn't finish

Neither could Fil, who's first language is Finnish.

(Don't give me shit for rhyming the same word.

I'll do what I want, I have the last word.)

And don't get me started on the one they call Happy,

It would be a compliment to say he's been crappy.

That dumb little fucker has made us all sick.

I think we agree, we must zap his dick.

And Osgood lost out at 400, a feat,

By being way too fucking easy to beat.

It sure would be nice for him to not suck,

So he could stop making me look stupid as fuck.

And sure there were bright spots, some plusses and scores;

But in the end the stupid Bitch Blues just had more.

So now, after Christmas, it's time for a change

I'm ready to get back to our winning ways.

Coach Babcock must stare (warning: can cause death),

Team leaders must rally until out of breath.

Now Helmer, now Abby, now Kronner and Raffi,

On Lidstrom, on Mule, on ValFil and Z!

It's time to return to our early-year form,

Where scoring and winning was simply the norm.

Where teams would just quiver in fear of our might,

And we'd have the win at the end of the night.

Consider this notice, rest of the league;

Nothing will stop us, injuries nor fatigue.

We're gunning for whats ours, we're not letting up;

We're going to be raising our twelfth Stanley Cup.

So from Hockeytown, U.S.A., a Christmas message to you:

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all, fuck you too!"

*A quick disclaimer, I started writing this after the Wings had let up their fourth goal and clearly looked like they were very much ready to go the hell home for the holidays. I realize that the overall effort was much better than I've portrayed here and our team really turned it on to end the game - but considering that effort was coming while I was being so overly critical, I decided not to stop.

Merry Christmas, Hockeytown. Here's hoping Santa's being overly harsh to us now because we're getting our present in June.

Getting Happy: The Jiri Hudler Motivational Song

First... Captain Friggin' Norris just landed us some Curly Fries. That was a cherry on top of the fuck-yeah sundae that we used to cleanse our pallet after that shit-sandwich against LA. Also, Bacon. Mmmm... bacon.

But I digress.

Jiri Hudler's struggle this year has been well documented. Team worst -8, whopping 6 points in 25 games, playing like a floating piece of shit, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Well a couple of weeks ago, I gave some suggestions about how we could get Happy rolling. So far, it doesn't appear that the Wings front office has taken my advice, and not so coincidentally, Happy still isn't lighting the lamp. Sure, he's looked much better since CURLY FRIES WERE VICTORIOUS!! But still, if we want #12 we've got to rely on our depth scoring. Happy needs to be a big part of that equation. As such, we've got to do everything we can to get him back on his game.

Well... don't ever say I'm not doing my part.



Of course I wrote a song. Why the hell not? Everyone knows that the best way to cure a snake-bitten sniper is through the power of song. And poorly sung out of tune song, no less!

Here's the lyrics, if you're so interested:

Getting Happy: The Jiri Hudler Motivational Song

There are those that call him Happy

But he only makes us sad

Left all his talent in Russia

Now he's basically Brett Lebda bad

Babcock thought he'd score 70

But it's looking more like 6

Happy Hudler, oh what to do with you

We're getting desperate for a fix

The coaches have tried it all

Even scratching you name

What the hall are we going to do

To get the skill back in your game

Well..

We could zap him in the dick with a taser

Shoot him with a lazer

Not the kind used by Rahmani

Kick him in the balls

Slam his head against a wall

Mutilate his body

Tie him to a chair, feed him to a bear, leave him there without a prayer while everybody stares

Or promise him stores full of whores when he scores

Or just zap him in the dick

Now you may question these procedures

You may find them a little cruel

You might say why not try something else

Like pairing him with Dats or Mule

But maybe just what young Happy needs

To get back to being our favorite son

Is the constant threat of Paul MacLean

On the bench with a taser gun

So why no, lets give it a chance

You know it just might work

We'll zap some sense back into Jiri Hudler

So he'll stop being such a little fucking jerk

Chorus

You might think I'm being way too harsh

Might say I should tone it down

Well have just one thing to say to you

...

[insert absurd rant here]

Chorus

Update: Download the MP3 version here.

Here's hoping that this little ditty gets Happy back on that horse.

Oh, and I'll take my Grammy by mail, thank you. My life is clearly way too busy to be bothered to attend some ceremony.

Olde Fashioned Politics: Tried, true, two-faced

It's officially the last day of voting.

I know that you've all been tirelessly parading on down to the polls, casting your vote for Curly Fries. But now is not the time to let the proverbial foot off the pedal. In fact, the waning hours are often the most critical period of an election cycle. Time to up the game.

Now, Wings fans have been doing plenty to make this happen. A team of dedicated demi-gods have been working to sway the vote all over the globe. Votes have poured in from every region of Hockeytown, even the Norwegian and Brazilian sectors. In fact, there have even been some reports that votes have come from such far away and exotic lands as South Dakota. Personally, I don't buy it as I'm still not convinced anyone actually fucking lives there. But still, the point remains. Plenty has been done.

So what else can we do in these final hours of voting, before the announcement is made tomorrow at the Big House?

Well, residing here in Chicago, I've got a few ideas. Now, Detroit does just about everything better than Chicago. It's simple science that we're just better human beings. However, there's one area where we could stand to learn a few tricks from Bandwagon Central.

• Dirty, filthy, backdoor, swindling, politics.

I know, Detroit is no stranger to shady dealings. We've had our fair share of garbage politicians who take office for no other reason to knucklefuck an already struggling region for their own personal gain. The difference, though?

Ours suck at it.

Chicago, though a horrendous offender when it comes to bandwagoning, produces some seriously good shady politicians. For some reason in Detroit, our politicians tend to seek bribes that basically amount to a new 32" television and lunch at Lafayette. And then they go to jail for it.

Here in Chicago? I'm pretty sure it's not even legally considered a bribe unless it nets more than what Brian Campbell gets paid each year to cough up spin-o-rama turnovers in the neutral zone. Even then, politicians just don't get convicted here. They know what they're doing when it comes to rigging elections, using the results to their own personal advantage, and walking away flush as Cristobal Huet. Ha, 'member him?

So what lesson can we take from our rivals down Michigan Ave? How about

The Winged Wheel's List of Backdoor Dealings and Shady-Fuck Politics*

• Shady-Fuck Idea #1: Stuffing The Box

No, we're not talking about Happy Hudler's Thursday night. We're talking about the classic tactic of inflating the votes to get your way. We've already employed one of the most common Chicago techniques of voting over and over again. However, how many of us have really taken it to the next level? For example, how many corpses have voted for Curly Fries so far?

Now to make this happen, we're going to need some dead people. So, I'd like to officially advocate that everyone out there reading this go grab a spade and march off to your nearest cemetery. Make sure you look for the plots that look like they're freshest. I know it's getting late in the season, so the ground is likely pretty frozen. So, if you have a bad back, I encourage you to just go to the nearest funeral home. This will require much less digging, but some serious cunning in creating a distraction. I'd suggest the tried and true "Hey everyone, look over there!" technique. 

After you get your freshly passed body, you'll want to employ a method that scientists call the "Weekend at Bernie's Technique." Make sure to throw some sunglasses on that bad lad and tie some strings to his extremities. You'll then want to build some kind of device to manipulate your new corpse like a puppet to continuously refresh the voting page, and cast a vote for curly fries.

I know what you're thinking... this is a a great idea! You're god damn right is. Now go desecrate a dead human body.

• Shady-Fuck Idea #2: Intimidation

Another method employed in the past by Chicago politicians is good ol fashioned voter intimidation. As many Chicago gangs have learned, nothing helps motivate voters like a gun in the face. Well, now that people can vote from the comfort of their own homes this job is even easier. You don't have to drag anyone to an inconvenient polling place. Rather, you can just go from home to home, kicking doors off their hinges and threatening the safety of people's children during dinner time.

Also, feel free to get creative. It may be enough to simply warn your neighbors that you'll sell your house to Todd Bertuzzi if Curly Fries doesn't win. The sheer fear of having their children grow up next to a man who engages in live-human sacrifice on his roof may terrorize them onto our side. 

• Shady-Fuck Idea #3: Extortion

So long as all this hard work pays off, we're going to find ourselves on the winning side here. And that's a nice place to be. But we shouldn't be content with simply winning and moving on. We should take a page out of Chicago's book and make sure we use our victory to our advantage.

You see, winning an election puts you in a serious position of power. You have influence and authority, and it's fucking golden, and, uh, uh, you aren't just giving it up for fuckin' nothing. Right?

How to Save on Helmet Costs

Once Curly Friest emerges victorious, use the victory to your advantage. First, stop paying for things. If you see something that you want, just take it. If, for some absurd reason, the storekeeper has a problem with this, just calmly explain about how you are a game-changer. I'm sure they'll understand and gladly give you whatever you'd like to get in your good favor. If you're having a difficult time at work, fire your boss. Just march right in and tell him how its just not working out and he'll need to pack his shit and get our of your new office. Don't just let your newfound position of influence fall to waste. Use it to your advantage.

We're in the last legs here folks. Viva Curly Fries! Viva las Alas Rojas! Viva la resistance!

Habs tonight. Go Wings!

*The Winged Wheel takes no responsibility for any negative side-effects of you being a fucking idiot and taking even one tiny bit of our advice.

Getting Strategic: Operation Curly Fries gets Anderson Coopered

Look, absurd rhetoric and manipulative imagery are all well and good. They're the true building blocks to any successful campaign. But if you're really serious about winning... you've gotta crunch the numbers.

Before us stands one of the more important showdowns in the history of man. As such, taking this lightly would be a mistake. A serious mistake. Like, paying-Brett-Lebda-$1.5 million serious.

We've all seen the 24-hour news channels during election cycles. They've all got their fancy screens and their high-paid analysts, and their Wolf Blitzers. All of this has a reason beyond annoying the piss out of everyone. These devices are employed to predict the outcomes of these really not that important elections.

So why the hell wouldn't we do the same with something that actually matters?

Introducing:

The Operation Curly Fries Electoral Map

Click for Larger Image

Sure, this map is a bit more complicated than the standard Red and Blue maps that you might see out of CNN. Some would say those maps are much easier to read and are therefore drastically more useful. I say CNN is a bunch of pussies. We're Wings fans. We do this shit right.

But, I'm sure even the greatest fanbase of the greatest franchise in history probably needs a legend to go along with this scientific thunderfuck of a game-changing prediction machine. Here it is:

• Alaska, Oregon, Montana, Wyoming, North Dakota, South Dakota, Kansas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, West Virginia, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine

These states are all represented by question marks. You might think that this means that their allegiance to either Curly Fries of Jr. Roast Beef is undetermined. You would be wrong as Brian Burke when he signed Brett Lebda to a $1.5 million contract.

There's no way I'm gonna put together a map of this magnitude and not come to a determination within a precise degree of scientific certainty for every state on the map. These states are only marked with question marks because I'm pretty sure nobody actually lives there.

I mean really... New Hampshire? That doesn't even sound real. I haven't even heard of an Old Hampshire so where the hell does this state get off? And really, have you ever met anyone who said they were from South Dakota? Even if you have, I bet you had a sneaking feeling that they were fucking liars. I'm confident that these states are just highways and empty space. Therefore, no need deciding their allegiance to happiness and joy or Roast Beef.

• Idaho

Idaho, for obvious reasons, is indicated by potatoes. These people fucking love potatoes. Their economy runs on the stuff and most residents actually have altars made of hash browns in their homes. Now, I'm no Iron Chef, but I'm pretty sure one of the ingredients in curly fries is potatoes.

Determining the allegiance in this state is pretty easy. What are these tuber-worshiping potato maniacs more likely to choose? Roast Beef, a decidedly non-tuberous dish? I think not. Hell, if America's Roast Beef Yes Sir stops giving away these delicious treats, Idaho's potato-driven economy is in danger of complete collapse. Chalk this state up as a win for America.

• Nebraska

Like Idaho, Nebraska has a one-dimensional vegetable-based economy. Also, I'm pretty sure potatoes and corn are pretty much the same thing. Therefore, the above reasoning fits here, and we're calling this a win.

• Wisconsin

Again, this is food based. Wisconsinians... err, Wisconsinites... uh, Wisconese??  Fucking people from Wisconsin are all about cheese. This one is going in our favor. You see, this choice is between Curly Fries, and a Jr. Roast Beef sandwich. Not a Jr. Roast Beef n' Cheddar sandwich. These people should turn out in hordes to vote for curly fries after America's Roast Beef Yes Sir snubbed their holy cheese gods.

• Nevada

Don't worry about it, these people are WAY too high on cocaine to vote.

• Utah

Represented here by South Park's rendering of Joseph Smith, Utah is overwhelmingly dominated by the Mormon vote. This is where the family values aspect of our campaign will come in handy. Actually, who the hell are we kidding? There's no way our group of degenerates and come across as the wholesome choice in this election. I'm afraid that this one is going to be lost to the Mormons. Dum dum dum dum dum.

• New Mexico

I'm not convinced this is state actually has the right to vote. I'll provide an analysis when they decide to join the union.

• Kentucky, Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana

Oh right, like these inbreds are going to take time away from watching NASCAR and beating their wives to get on them newfangled interweb machines to vote.

• Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts

Still England.

• Ohio

Ohio... is terrible.

• Indiana

So is Indiana. Crossroads of America, eh? Even their state motto admits it's just the place people go to get somewhere else. Who gives a shit about how these two hellholes vote?

• Colorado, Missouri, Minnesota, Pennsylvania

These aren't going well for us... This is what political scientists refer to as the "spite vote." It refers to a phenomenon wherein an electorate has been so humiliated for so long that they're now completely empty inside - devoid of all value as human beings.

Each of these states are represented on this map by different images (Vagisil for Dive fans, a sobbing little bitch of a baby for the Bitter Bitch Blues fans, Pinky for Minnesota, and pink Tu-Tu's for Thid Rosby's state of Pennsylvania). However, they'll all probably vote Roast Beef for the same reason - they've been picked on by the vastly superior Red Wings for long enough that they're dead inside. No worries, you win some, you lose some.

• Washington, Texas, New York

Speaking of win some. These are going Curly Fry. Why? Well, remember when I said the guys at TPL get shit done?

Fucking listen next time.


Each of these states contains a member of the trifecta. You think they're going to let this shit go to the Roast Beef? I think not.

• Hawaii 

The Chief from over at A2Y is currently on a ship with a bunch of weapons in the Pacific. If for no other reason, these fuckers are voting Curly Fries out of fear. A well justified fear.

• California, Arizona

We've all seen the Wings play in Phoenix and the California markets. Hell, just last night they faced off against the Ducks and perennial World's Douchiest Bag winner Corey Perry. The chants for the Wings drowned out the California crowd. That's because if you're a hockey fan, and you live in these states... you're not from there. These markets are full of transplanted Wings fans, and they'll deliver the vote for Curly Fries.

• Florida  

Two words: The Captain.

• Illinois

They may be begrudging, but these fuckers are voting curly fries if I have to climb in their windows and snatch all their peoples up myself.

• Michigan

And this, this is where the science is. You see, it really doesn't matter how all these other states cast their ballots. When it comes down to it, theres only one state that counts. Motor City, Motown, the D. Hockeytown is going to come out in spades for Curly Fries because they're good people. The region is full of dedicated hockey fanatics who - unlike the little bitches in Denver, or the bandwagoners in Chicago - know the value of a storied tradition. Hearing Mickey shout "Curly Fries!" is an integral aspect of the Red Wing experience. Like Budd Lynch's calming voice over the intercom, hearing Stompin' Tom Connors after a Wings victory, pissing in a trough, shoulder-to-shoulder with grown ass drunk men - Curly Fries just come with the territory. There's no way the blue collar heroes from the Motor City are going to let us down.

Curly Fries will return. They'll be here to stay. And, you know, if they don't we get to riot and fill the streets with the blood of the plutocrats. So that's pretty cool too.

Now go vote and prove me right.

Oz fights for #399 tonight in L.A. Lets Go Wings!

Get the Vote Out: Seriously P. Diddy Puff Dogg will mess you UP

So, I'm not sure if you are aware of this or not, but the guys at The Production Line get shit done.

They're movers. Shakers. Emperors among minions. When they speak, people listen. When they shout, people cower. They're remarkably above average in both length and girth.

They're some swell fellas.

I'm not just saying this because they were so kind this week on TP:60. No, the guys over at TPL have launched a campaign recently to right a wrong. You see, many people with the power and influence that these true American Heros have would use it for their own benefit. Not TPL. They've unleashed a groundswell of support from Red Wings fans to correct an injustice. An unyielding sea of principled revolutionaries demanding that their voices be heard. Rising as one, with a clear message, unwavering and proud:

• Bring back the curly fries, bitch.

That's right. Recently, America's Roast Beef Yes Sir made the tragically un-American decision to no longer offer the storied Curly Fry after a Red Wings hat trick. Rather, the restaurant decided to offer the Jr. Roast Beef sandwich in its stead.

Now, I'm sure that America's Roast Beef Yes Sir had no ill intent in this haneous decision. In fact, I presume the good folks at America's Roast Beef Yes Sir acted in good faith, thinking a mouth full of delicious meat would please us greatly.

Well, America's Roast Beef Yes Sir, you were mistaken.

Luckily, we've got the guys at TPL to lead the charge to right this wrong. Recognizing that the free curly fry stands for all that is Red Wings Hockey, they've taken the flag and charged full speed ahead. Lo and behold, their efforts have been rewarded.

After getting some serious press, the movement has been successful in convincing America's Roast Beef Yes Sir to consider a return to justice. A poll has been posted at Fox Sports Detroit's website, wherein fans are encouraged to vote for their preference - freedom, truth and justice, or some soggy roast beef.

• Vote early. Vote often. Vote Curly Fries.

Now, apparently, there are some people out there who aren't as convinced. Well, let the politicking begin.

Elections are as much a part of the fabric of our history as apple pie and smut. In fact, we've just been through a relatively harrowing election season here in the States, where we were constantly bombarded by ad after ad, pimping various candidates for office. This election is no less important, so why shouldn't it get similar treatment?

Curly Fries, consider me your Karl Rove.

Bumper stickers. Tee Shirts. Lawn signs.

...are all things I would print this on if there were time between now and the 10th, when voting ends.

This is a classic election campaign sign. It appeals to all of the great motivating values in our society. Also, if you really look closely, it's subliminal. I bet you didn't notice that adorable little puppy back there, subliminally tugging on the cockles of your heart and manipulating your every thought and emotion. 

But this is 'Merica. Everyone knows you can't win on a stong positive message alone. If you want to win an election in 21st century 'Merica, you gotsta go negative.

Let's start light.

Turns out that for the most part, people really dislike things that they think would make Jesus sad. Generally included in that group of things are the dark arts. This ad simply points out the OBVIOUS correlation between roast beef and a Satanic devotion to Witchcraft. I'm sure I don't need to point it out to you how obviously related the two are. Only someone who hates 'Merica would have a hard time seeing it.

But you know, this type of campaign is new to the political scene. While it's had some success, it's not usually a great idea to put all your eggs in one basket.

Which brings me to a really solid question that should blow your minds. Where is roast beef even from?

I've done extensive research on this issue. That is, I've taken a few moments to peruse the Wikipedia page on roast beef. And you know what I found there?

• Not once, on the whole page does it explicitly say that the roast beef sandwich did not originate in Kenya.

Until Arby's Jr. Roast Beef sandwich can definitively come forth and prove, once and for all, that it was not first conceived of in Kenya, I think it's pretty safe to assume - nay, conclude - that Kenya is it's birthplace. Can you really cast a vote for a Kenyan sandwich over curly fries that taste like freedom?

This is a matter of utter importance. As a result, we cannot take this election lightly. We must pull out all the stops and leave it all on the campaign trail. We cannot look back and think "if only." So, in that spirit, it's time to go nuclear.

That right there, my friends, is the right bauer of political ads.

Now get your ass out there and vote.

TP:60 Ep#7: Wherein hockey is discussed and shenanigans are had

I had the honor and privilege to hop on TP:60 with the fellas from TPL and Kris from Snipe Snipe, Dangle Dangle the other evening. It was quite the experience, involving a little bit of hockey talk, and a whole lot of immaturity and general tomfoolery. As I'm sure nobody who reads this blog is a little bitch, you're all aware of the genius that comes out of TP:60 each week, so I need not remind you. However, in the event you need such an absurd reminder, go listen to that shit. They do a helluva job.

• You can find this week's episode here, or you can download it through the iTunes.

Now go have an eargasm.

Not So Happy: How to turn that frown upside-down

Pace? Full speed.
Direction? Ahead.
Cylinders? Firing. All of 'em.

Well... mostly all. The Wings are currently best in the West. In the last 22 games, our team is rocking only 6 losses, 2 of which carry the charity point as they occurred in extra time. That's fewest losses league-wide. As a Wings fan, there ain't much to bitch about right now.

Oh, like that's gonna stop us.

There's a few points that we'd like to see improve from our beloved team. It'd be nice to know that we can maintain this pace while giving Super Jimmah some rest now and again so that he's not all tuckered out by the time the playoffs roll around. At times our defense seems a bit too confident in Jimmah's ability to stop pucks and lets too many shots from the slot. Brett Lebda keeps fucking up, totally underperforming and coughing up ridiculous turnovers in the neutral zone.

Oh, shit. Sorry... reflex.

All these things aren't really that concerning in the end. They'll be worked on and we can have utter faith in the best coach in the business to make them happen. There is one issue that's causing some consternation, however. I'll give you a hint:

• It rhymes with "Bliri Hulder is being a fucking douchebag."

So far Happy Hudler has 6 whole points this season. That's right, he's on an absolutely scorching 22 point pace. Hey, that means we're only paying the little bastard $130,681 for every point he manages to notch on the scoresheet. What a deal!

Happy's the type of player that tends to go on streaks as it is. So, hey, maybe there's some hope here that he's not going to Leino us in the assholes for the rest of the year. There's still a shot the little bastard can turn it around and stop being a giant piece of shit. So far, Babs has tried a lot to get that to happen. He's played with the lines, trying to spark something inside his bruised Czech psyche. He's given the guy power play time. He's put him in the press box. So far, nothing has really sparked his game.

Time to get creative.

And thus was born:

The Winged Wheel's List of Shit to Make Jiri Hudler Stop Being a Douchebag

• Awesome Fucking Idea #1: Hire San Jose Statisticians

About 10 minutes into the first period yesterday in the beatdown of the Sharks, the San Jose announcers gave us an interesting stat. At that point, the Red Wings were up 2-1, but were being outshot 15-4.

In related news, streets in San Jose are paved with gumdrops and everyone rides unicorns to get to the free-hooker store.

The point being, the stat guys at HP Pavilion Arena are - to put it lightly - fucking high as a kite. There's just no way at that point that the Sharks had put that many shots on goal. But hey, why not use this to our advantage?

Babs has worked hard to try and motivate Happy and he appears to be pretty seriously snake-bitten. Well, why not inflate his litte ego a bit, alleviating some of that mental stress? Hire the San Jose statisticians to watch Jiri's game. At the very least, it will make us fans feel a bit better about the turdburger he leaves on the ice every game. Sure... Jiri didn't score... or get an assist... and had 4 turnovers... but hey, he had 98 shots on goal and 146 hits! That's a helluva start.

• Awesome Fucking Idea #2: Duct Tape

I'm a firm believer that just about any problem in the world can be solved with either a) Booze, or b) Duct Tape. Considering we've witnessed what the former does to Mr. Hudler...

...it's probably better that we work with the latter.

Now, look. I'm not a scientist. I don't have an advanced degree in engineering and I'm not intimately aware of the complex physics involved in the various aspects of the sport. So I'm not here to say how duct tape is going to fix Happy's game. I'm just saying that it definitely will. I'll leave the implementation to the big-wigs and experts. Maybe they'll duct tape a rabid wolverine to Happy's ass causing him to skate with a bit more hustle and urgency. Maybe they'll duct tape Happy to Datsyuk, or Zetterberg, or Cleary so that he'll have to follow them around all day, learning what it's like to not be a fuckwad. Or perhaps they'll just use it to seal up his sphincter so he'll stop shitting all over the ice. I don't know how it'll work - I just know that it absolutely will.

• Awesome Fucking Idea #3: Temporarily Trade Him to the Philadelphia Flyers

I'm not sure if Philly would be willing to throw us a bone here on this one, but why not? They hate the Penguins... we hate the Penguins! We hate the Blackhawks... they hate the Blackhawks! It's like the old adage says: the enemy of my enemy and my other enemy should do me favors.

Lets recall the case of Ville Leino. I know... it hurts. It brings up a lot of bottled up rage from watching that floating pile of wet dong take up a roster space all year. However, as soon as we dealt him away for table scraps, he decided to remember that he was an NHL player and he started scoring at a pretty decent pace. After he was traded and hit the playoffs with the Flyers, Ville racked up 21 points in 19 playoff games. This year, he's got 19 points in 25 games for the Flyers. Considering he had just 11 points in 55 games last year - that's a pretty dramatic improvement.

So lets set something up with our pals in Philly. We'll trade Jiri to the city of brotherly love until he decides to start scoring at some absurd pace, and then they'll trade him right back. What's in it for Philly, you ask? Well they get to help out the best franchise in sports! I'm sure they'll agree with that fact and be plenty happy just lending us a helping hand. Then, when all is said and done, we can go back to fucking hating Daniel Carcillo and the rest of his band of goony fuckwads.

• Awesome Fucking Idea #4: Simulate Russia

Jiri wasn't always a stack of smegma. In fact, just last year he put up 54 points in as many games with Dynamo Moscow of the KHL. I'm not mathematician, but I'm pretty sure that's a point-per-game pace. If only we could get Happy back to that place.

Now there are many variables that go into a player's successes and failures. So lets make sure we cover every base we can. First, we have to let Happy know that the Wings full staff of trainers and highly qualified medical professionals will no longer be available to him. Instead, if he ends up injured we'll just have some guy named Ivan come rub dirt on it. If that doesn't work, he'll be dragged off the rink and shot. Also, we'll be sure to hire a group of pale, depressed, alcoholics to surround him at all times. He'll only be allowed to hang out in a frozen uninhabitable hellscape. We'll take 1/3 of the parts out of his car, and make him eat nothing but borscht. That's what those people eat, right? Also, I think there's dragons there or something. So lets get some of those.

• Awesome Fucking Idea #5: Dick Punches

This one's simple. As a last ditch resort, every time Jiri finishes a shift without scoring, we have Paul MacLean punch him in the dick. I pick MacLean solely because of his moustache. A moustache like that says some things about a person. It says they have a strong affinity for bacon and other smoked meats. It says they can fell mighty trees with no more than two swings of a dull axe. It says they have dogs, but they aren't allowed on the couch. It also indicates that the wearer of such a 'stache is probably an outstanding dick-puncher.

We all know how much Happy likes to use his dick. His track record of consorting with nefarious women and filthy Czech whores is well documented. Perhaps if his equipment were in constant danger he'd do more than just stand around with it in his hand.

We can only hope.

Turn it around Happy... or you're going to have a new nickname. "Bruised and Swollen Love-Pump Hudler" just doesn't have the same ring to it.