And you know who you are.....

Can someone explain to me what benefit there would possibly be from Drunk Tweeting? Just wondering. Seeing more and more of it, and it does remind me of a friend who would always drunk dial her exes. It was a stupid thing to do then, and I can't see that drunk tweeting is any less stupid. With a much much bigger audience.

I guess a drunk doesn't care, but as painful as it was to watch her drunk dial, the drunk tweeting I've had to witness is oh so much worse.

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A long weekend of hockey, in more ways than one. After the "special" game we had against Pinnacle on Saturday, with multiple injuries and penalties and incident reports and screaming coaches and more, one that the coach thankfully kept the daughter out of, we had another game Sunday against the all girls team, a special pet project of the league.

D R A M A. And you thought hockey wives were bad.

When we play this particular team, no checking is allowed. Even tho there are two girls on our team, my daughter and one of the defenseman (defense person?). This particular all girls team has developed quite a reputation for their "dirty" play, with plenty of elbows and tripping and slashing and multiple things that are rarely called. Also a lot of dramatic falls and dives, getting penalty calls on opposing teams.

Sunday's game was a whole new level of special. And by special, I mean that I saw the player on the "all girls" "we can't check them" team pull back her fist and throw a punch at one of our player clear across the ice. Yeah, that kind of special. And that wasn't all.... as our player is down on the ground *(because of course, she picked on our female defenseman, a good foot shorter than her humungous self) * their entire bench cheered and banged their sticks on the boards.

Really??

That wasn't even the end of it. Apparently, at the end of the game in the "handshake" line, this all girls team trashed talked the entire length of the line, calling my daughter and the other girl "cunt" and "slut" and "bitch", all because they played on a boys team.

Nice, huh.

And there was still more. After the game, my kid, certainly and absolutely her mother's daughter, marched to the all girls team's locker room, FURIOUS (a definite Sicilian moment), demanding an apology to her teammate. She was PISSED. She came storming upstairs, demanding to speak to the team manager. There was a discussion with the coaches. The all girls team player that'd thrown the punch, with the potty mouth, "apologized" in the most insincere manner. And after all THAT, one of the "managers" on the all girls team had the fucking BALLS to approach my daughter and want her to play on their team! Is he out of his mind? Has he been hit in the head with too many hockey related objects? Does he want to be speared in the crotch with my daughter's Easton?

Seriously, the entire day was fucking weird. Mother's Day indeed!

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Manic Monday, so quiet in contrast. Not manic because I was oh so busy, unless you count rounding up the $4000 cash to pick up the repaired MINI Cooper. Manic if you count the number of complaints I filed against the used car dealership, World Motors Scottsdale, may 1000 scorpions crawl in their boxer shorts. Manic if you count the multiple trips around the Valley of the Sun in the loaner MINI, a 2012 automatic with a sun roof.

I prefer my 2008 MINI S with the manual 6 speed, thanks. I greatly appreciate the loaner, it is really cute. But my Chili Red MINI is wayyyy cuter.

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It is approaching 2 am. I have a long meeting in Ahwautukee tomorrow, and a phone meeting with a guy in Chandler for some side work. And what am I doing? Washing my hair and reading old emails that are making me sad.

-- BratGirl --