After a night at a local watering hole spent with some boys of mine, I have come to the conclusion that beer does not make a hockey game more enjoyable. Actually, that should really be separated into two conclusions, from which I spliced as if the conclusions were DNA.

I miss school.

1. Beer does not make anything more enjoyable for me.

and

2. Nothing can make watching the Toronto Maple Leafs attempt to keep up with the other team less painful.

Both, gross over-generalizations, and both probably will not make any sense to me by tomorrow morning when I re-read this post (I, ButtugMcOysty re-read absolutely everything I write because that's what floats my hot-air-balloon), but as of right now, I would battle to the death defending either of the stances put forth.

I had to crane my neck the whole night just to be able to see most of the television because of a bad architectural decision by the restaurant. Although, watching a game in a semi-crowded public place with plenty of people groaning or exclaiming "OH!! OH!!!!" at every near-goal is amusing and makes for a good evening. (Atmosphere is everything. Save our ozone layer!)

That, and chicken wings. A big platter of chicken wings.

The cherry on top of all this? When living by oneself, if oneself decides go out on a certain evening, upon returning to oneself's home, the mess to cleanup is considerably less.

The following is a depiction of a wicked prank idea (click picture for more details):