Les yeux dans la graisse de bines
(An expression from the lands up here, basically translating to "eyes in beans fat", and referring to the state you're in when waking up from a very long slumber - or appearing slumbering to the people around you.)
I probably slept a good 10 hours, with the final dream portion where I'd be practicing field hockey drills in a gym (a mixture of all the school gyms I've used in my life) for a whole boring 5 to 10 minutes (taking shots, going around, taking more shots, looking at my opponents sitting over at the bench, looking towards the door - ouh, isn't that a certain girl?..., keep running from one end to the other believing I'm Kovalev, and finally realizing there's a way -technique- to keep the ball on one's stick, despite having short arms and a short stick - so freudian.
In any cases, after a few moments semi-waked up, my brother bursts into my room to tell me that the Habs' coach has been fired. And GM Bob Gainey brings back to Montreal formerly disgraced Habs teammate-come-ass'coach Guy Carbonneau from Dallas, where both of them won the Stanley Cup. That's the shit - when are we going to see Larry Robinson too?
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