From the daily archives: "Friday, August 23, 2019"

Inflatable T-Rextions

By Wes

Inflatables and hockey — why not? While a normal hockey team might focus on discipline and (gasp) inflatable-free mobility, the Inflatable T-Rextions will charm you with their complete disregard for both, instead embracing the questionable decision that led a group of 30- and 40-something-year-olds to don blow-up children’s toys and abandon any sense of responsibility.  And while we’re at it: sobriety, hygiene, and public decency, too.

Some didn’t bring enough inflatables so they were kicked off.

Embracing their prehistoric namesake, this group of slack-jawed troglodytes will likely revel their descent into loud banter, witty rejoinders and clever heckling. You should watch out. Gone are the days where a team will win “on the scoreboard”; we’ve already won. We’re in your head.

Lee ate a magic bean and got huge. Beware.

So, come game-time you’ll be reduced to a whimpering mess as you endure our continual verbal onslaught while simultaneously facing the challenge of side-stepping un-coordinated drunken masses of human flesh and pools of vomit. There is no path to victory here, friend.

Feeling a little bad that Worky stole a 9 year old’s unicorn, but very happy Stoli is in our life now.

As noted by veteran burn-out, Lee, these air-filled dinosaur phaluses don’t care for scoring (goals…we’re plenty good at the other scoring) or dicks (both people who showcase the personality trait and, for most ladies on the team, the appendage), but we do care “for each other”. And isn’t that really what it’s all about?

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