TD Tiger - Hockey Player - Single
-'i love my bestfriend; kaara-lynnarmstronng.
-'i love my bestfriend; kaara-lynnarmstronng.
R.I.P Rambo
FRIENDS
- *ALYSSA;RAE*18, Female
- *Bryce.B18, Male
- chruner20, Male
- -.dinoRAWR?18, Female
- [kai]Lan*19, Female
- *larry14*18, Male
- -Raquel19, Female
- Rudyck1520, Male
- *samantha;fiss.19, Female
- *TayLor.*19, Female
- ;tenetuikk.19, Female
- xox.LexyMcleod18, Female
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BASICS
| Height: | 174 cm - 178 cm (5'9" - 5'10") |
| Weight: | 69 Kg - 73 Kg (151 lbs - 160 lbs) |
| Birthday: | March 24, 1993 |
| Sexual Orientation: | Heterosexual |
| Dating: | Single and looking |
| Living Situation: | Living with parents/relatives |
| Location: | Canada |
| Last Active: | 03:40pm | Apr 15, '11 |
INTERESTS
MYSELF
R.I.P Rambo
BEAUTY
Here's to. . .
the stars in the show and
the guys going to the show
the boys in the juniors
. . .living the dream
and the die hards
. . .lighting up the beer leagues.
Here's to. . .
the snipers, the playmakers
the grinders, the fighters
the power forwards, the blue chip d-men
the bottle fillers and the men in the pipes
the men on the bench
. . .and the boys in the box.
Here's to. . .
sniping ginos, chizzling apples
throwing sauce, undressing tendies
banging home rebounds
making big glove saves
. . . and burying OT winners.
dirty dangles, sick toe drags
backhand toe drags, spin-o-ramas
bar and ins, top cheese, One-Tees
snappers and clappers, big-time celly's,
poke-checks, pad-stacks, big hits
hip-checks, train tracks
and toe-to-toe tillies.
Here's to. . .
long bus trips, the early morning practices
the bag-skates, the battles in the corners,
the bad dental, the sweet flow
the playoff beards, the tears, the laughs
the team shakers. .
the beauties wheeling hot broads
. . .and the gongers wheeling swampers.
Here's to. . .
the wins, losses, and ties,
the end-to-end overtimes,
the gruelling training camps,
the pre-season exies,
the regular season battles
the playoff wars
. . . and raising the cup.
And. . .
Here's to anyone who knows what all this means. . .
hockey's unreal. It�s my life.
![]()
the stars in the show and
the guys going to the show
the boys in the juniors
. . .living the dream
and the die hards
. . .lighting up the beer leagues.
Here's to. . .
the snipers, the playmakers
the grinders, the fighters
the power forwards, the blue chip d-men
the bottle fillers and the men in the pipes
the men on the bench
. . .and the boys in the box.
Here's to. . .
sniping ginos, chizzling apples
throwing sauce, undressing tendies
banging home rebounds
making big glove saves
. . . and burying OT winners.
dirty dangles, sick toe drags
backhand toe drags, spin-o-ramas
bar and ins, top cheese, One-Tees
snappers and clappers, big-time celly's,
poke-checks, pad-stacks, big hits
hip-checks, train tracks
and toe-to-toe tillies.
Here's to. . .
long bus trips, the early morning practices
the bag-skates, the battles in the corners,
the bad dental, the sweet flow
the playoff beards, the tears, the laughs
the team shakers. .
the beauties wheeling hot broads
. . .and the gongers wheeling swampers.
Here's to. . .
the wins, losses, and ties,
the end-to-end overtimes,
the gruelling training camps,
the pre-season exies,
the regular season battles
the playoff wars
. . . and raising the cup.
And. . .
Here's to anyone who knows what all this means. . .
hockey's unreal. It�s my life.
The cockiest, dirtiest, most irresponsible group of athletes in
the world. Will do anything just to be able to tell his teammates
a great story in the dressing room. Live the dream until they are
35 then realize they never made it. Ladies love us, guys want to
be us, and we are the soul of the universe. You lace up the skates, put
on the gloves, strap on the helmet, and walk on to the ice and nothing
else matters. It doesn't matter that you failed a test, your girl is being a bitch, or that you got a ticket on the way there...you're world is
absolutely perfect for the next couple hours. Here's to face-offs, goals, assists, overtime, living on the road, cold rinks, early mornings, breakaways, going top cheese, countless hours of practice, bag skates, puking, thousands of dollars, dangling d-men, end to end rushes, big hits, broken sticks, new skates, packing bombs, dropping the mitts, wheelin' broads, coaches, adding the letter "y" to the end of everyone's last name, the word "fuck", let downs, miracles and most of all - the game of Hockey.
Why do we skate back and forth night after night? Skating so hard
we throw up. Skating so hard your heart beat rings in your head,
while your lungs are grasping for air. Late nights, Early mornings, Friday nights, Saturday evenings, broken bones, torn muscles and deep bruises. We skate through it all. Because we live off our
adrenaline, because the game frees your spirit, because the partyin the locker room is second to none, because you're invincible
once you step on the ice, because one shot can make you
smile all night, sniping the twine, top shelf where momma keeps the peanut butter, the rattling of the boards, the feel of the puck, and
skates carving into the ice is a rhythm to live by, because its
possible to skate fast enough to leave all your worries behind.
Sweat is the cologne of our accomplishment. Why?
Why would someone push themselves so hard the uneducated pussies
always ask? HOUSE LEAGUE, A, AA, AAA, JR.A, WHL, US COLLEGE, PRO
... It's never been for the fucking, the money, it's not for the
girls, and it's not for the fame.
'The Boys' play because we fucking love it...
the world. Will do anything just to be able to tell his teammates
a great story in the dressing room. Live the dream until they are
35 then realize they never made it. Ladies love us, guys want to
be us, and we are the soul of the universe. You lace up the skates, put
on the gloves, strap on the helmet, and walk on to the ice and nothing
else matters. It doesn't matter that you failed a test, your girl is being a bitch, or that you got a ticket on the way there...you're world is
absolutely perfect for the next couple hours. Here's to face-offs, goals, assists, overtime, living on the road, cold rinks, early mornings, breakaways, going top cheese, countless hours of practice, bag skates, puking, thousands of dollars, dangling d-men, end to end rushes, big hits, broken sticks, new skates, packing bombs, dropping the mitts, wheelin' broads, coaches, adding the letter "y" to the end of everyone's last name, the word "fuck", let downs, miracles and most of all - the game of Hockey.
Why do we skate back and forth night after night? Skating so hard
we throw up. Skating so hard your heart beat rings in your head,
while your lungs are grasping for air. Late nights, Early mornings, Friday nights, Saturday evenings, broken bones, torn muscles and deep bruises. We skate through it all. Because we live off our
adrenaline, because the game frees your spirit, because the partyin the locker room is second to none, because you're invincible
once you step on the ice, because one shot can make you
smile all night, sniping the twine, top shelf where momma keeps the peanut butter, the rattling of the boards, the feel of the puck, and
skates carving into the ice is a rhythm to live by, because its
possible to skate fast enough to leave all your worries behind.
Sweat is the cologne of our accomplishment. Why?
Why would someone push themselves so hard the uneducated pussies
always ask? HOUSE LEAGUE, A, AA, AAA, JR.A, WHL, US COLLEGE, PRO
... It's never been for the fucking, the money, it's not for the
girls, and it's not for the fame.
'The Boys' play because we fucking love it...