I Promised Mess I Wouldn't Do This...

It's always a sad day when the most talented hockey player to ever live leaves town. And now we've experienced it twice here in Edmonton.


Sail on, Robbie Schremp. Sail on by.

Billionaire Boys Club

As many of you know, the NFL season is in full swing. What does this mean for Oilers fans? Very little, except that Slow Fresh Oil was lucky enough to be the fly on the largest high definition screen in the world last night when a pair of billionaires mused over franchise ownership, new venues, and being rich as balls.


Arlington, Texas.
00:25 hours. September 21, 2009.

Jerry Jones and Daryl Katz lounge among the litter-strewn seats of Cowboys Stadium. They rest their feet on the seats in front of them and, at regular intervals, they pass what appears to be a cigar back and forth. The pungent smoke of Acapulco Gold wafts up towards the rafters as they talk quietly to one another. The following is a transcript of their conversation.

JJ: (inhales sharply as he passes the dutchy 'pon the left hand side)
DK: (accepts the blunt and looks admiringly at Jones) How did you do it, Jerry?
JJ: (while holding breath) I get Roy Williams to roll them for me. (exhales through nose and mouth, coughing violently)
DK: (also coughing violently)
JJ: (coughing)
DK: (coughing)
JJ: (coughing subsides, wipes tears from bloodshot eyes)
DK: (coughing subsides) No, no, I mean how did you manage to build this... This palace? (Katz motions to the enormous stadium)
JJ: 'This dump,' y'mean.
DK: (balks)
JJ: Ya seriously like this place? Hot damn, Katz, wanna buy it?
DK: (stops being fascinated by fingernails [as a concept]) Wait- what?
JJ: D'ya wanna buy Cowboys Stadium?
DK: But it's brand new!
JJ: Sure, for now. I've already started construction on an even bigger, more state-of-the-art stadium, with room for thousands more seats and innumerable amenities that you didn't even know existed.
DK: Like what?
JJ: Ever had a jet of air blown across the underside of yer coinpurse while you're drainin' the lizard?
DK: Can't say that I have.
JJ: Well, that feature's included in everyone of the in-seat toilets.
DK: In-seat toilets?
JJ: Damn straight, I know how sick people are of missing plays because of their mortal need to expel waste. My new stadium will make that frustration a thing of the past.
DK: Wow. Wow. Do you have any concept art?
JJ: Hell, I've got a Blackberry full of pictures. It's under construction out in orbit.
DK: Orbit?
JJ: Check it. (hands Katz his phone)


DK: That's no moon!
JJ: It's a space-station!
DK: Good Lord, Jerry. You're a madman...
JJ: Am I, Daryl? Am I? I'm funding the construction directly out of the maintenance budget for this hovel. Barring any unexpected wind storms, Cowboys Stadium will stand just long enough for me to finish the new one.
DK: It's like some grand, insane Ponzi scheme.
JJ: And how!
DK: Jeez... You're accomplishing all this... This... Majesty! And here I am, having a hard time replacing a 35-year old concrete eyesore. I'm an embarrassment to billionaires everywhere, Jerry.
JJ: Ya got that right. Those concourses are narrower than Tom Thumb's cornchute! My new stadium has an entire Costco in the concourse. On every level.
DK: Man... (begins to sulk)
JJ: (puffs on the blunt nonchalantly) Cheer up there, Katz. I'll let you in on my foolproof strategy for building enormous monuments to humanity's rampant materialism.
DK: Really?
JJ: (nods genially)
DK: Aw shucks, thanks Jerry! So what's the first step?
JJ: Well, I assume you've already leveraged the media into being your mouthpiece?
DK: Yep.
JJ: Good. Next step is to bide your time until the city elections, then contribute to the campaigns of each candidate. Whoever wins, you're set up to coerce them into publicly supporting your new arena plan.
DK: Easy enough.
JJ: I know, right? Then, all that's left is to bribe enough Councilors to pass public funding of the thing and you're on your way. Just make sure you lowball the initial estimates, so you don't have any immediate public outcries. By the time it's half-built, you've got 'em hogtied into finishing the work at any price.
DK: Whoa. That's it?
JJ: Simple as sweet potato pie, Daryl.
DK: I'm damn near halfway there!
JJ: Good on ya... As long as ya have the balls to finish it.
DK: No worries, Jerry. That city is my bitch!
JJ: Sure is a great feeling, ain't it? HAHAHAHA-
DK: -HAHAHAHAHAHAHA-
JJ: -HAHAHAHAHAHAHA-
DK: -HAHAHAHAHAHAHA-
JJ: -HAHAHAhahahaha-
DK: -hahahaaaa-
JJ: -aaaah. Ha. Ahem.
DK: Whew.
JJ: (hands Katz the blunt)
DK: (takes a long drag)
JJ: You wanna go up to my luxury box and play Halo on the giant HD screen?
DK: Do I ever!

The two billionaires proceeded to race up the stairs, shoving each other playfully as they went. Much p0wnag3 and Master Chief teabagging ensued.

There it is, folks: another startling look behind-the-scenes of Oilers, Inc. brought to you exclusively by Slow Fresh Oil.

Pre-Season Haikus

Devan Dubnyk and
Jeff Drouin-Deslauriers:
Thirteen feet. No hands?

Horcoff to Comrie:
"Remember when we turned pro?
You were paid more then."

Memo to players:
"DO NOT say anything nice
About Rexall Place."

Steve Tambellini
Jerked awake at night screaming
"Khabibulin's Groin!"

"For the last time, Zack,
Viacheslav and Slava
Are the same person."

Mike Comrie's contract:
No payments 'til Twenty-Twelve
And no money down.

"Ees mighty eagle
Painted on mask, holding masks.
Get it? Ees a joke."

"You can't go in there.
Coach Quinn is having a nap.
Renny says you're cut."