In from Surrey

Last night, we had our practice game (more on that later), which prevented us from seeing the first two periods of the game, but we got home just in time to see the non-stop drama of the final frame. Thank goodness, cuz I would have been pretty pissed if I'd missed it, Mary!

And, in a nailbiter, the Canucks won it in a game much closer than the score would indicate. The final was 4-1, but the final two goals were empty netters and, until notching their third goal, the Canucks were hanging on by the skin of their teeth against the relentless Stars attack.

In the end -- and with the able assistance of series superstar Roberto Luongo -- our fellas played like the heroes they've been all year, and prevailed. Next stop: the Ducks!

But now for my pet peeve. What is it with all those people who have no lives insist on celebrating the victory by jumping in their car, hoisting all their team paraphernalia (jerseys, flags, etc.) outside their car windows, driving down Robson or Denman Streets, and honking their horns for freakin' ever?

I swear, it's like they all found their car horns for the first time ("Oh look, Darryl, that's what this here thing is for!") and started honkin' 'em for the next couple of hours. Clearly they're bridge-and-tunnel folks, in from Surrey to add some much needed spice to their otherwise-pathetic lives spent on the periphery of civility.