A tearful goodbye


The Oilers took the time to hold a press conference on Friday to announce that they were officially giving up on Dany Heatley. The “GM” of the Oilers Steve Tambellini gave us all a good laugh proposing this team has what it takes to make the playoffs and gently suggested we all say goodbye to our dreams of Heatley lighting the lamp in Copper and Blue. This was easily the hardest goodbye of our long weekend, until Sunday when our car was broken into and our BlackBerry was stolen.

Yes, this was a lovely long weekend in the City of Champions. Nice weather, 2 days of debauchery followed by 2 days of doing sweet eff all of value to society. But in many ways it was also a somber time as we were forced to say good bye to these two important parts of our life.

Saying goodbye to Dany Heatley


If anything this final, final, FINAL press conference should provide some real closure to the OilersNation faithful.

Brownlee has said it: “The best thing for the Oilers is that this deal stays undone. Heatley isn’t the answer.”

Willis has said it: “There’s still tomorrow.”

Gregor has said it: “Enough is enough.”

hemmertime said it: “I feel dirty and used, I need a shower.”

Dany Heatley has said it: <insert silence borne of mental illness here>

And now finally Tambo himself has said it:  “We wanted to give it an allotted amount of time, but we can’t wait any longer.”

And so for one final time: Screw off Dany Heatley. We can’t decide if we hate you more or less than Chris Pronger, but we have decided that we are now cheering for your career to end in horrific injury.

Saying goodbye to our BlackBerry


Ah sweet BlackBerry. We hardly knew ye – having been together with your cutting edge goodness less than 3 months. Our old model stares at us from the shelf on which it sits, smug in the knowledge its outdated ass will soon be back in the game. Why someone took the time to pinch you out of our car we will never know. Laden with ringtones, twitterberry and enough pictures to lauch a rival to flickr – they must have been sadly dismayed to find you password protected. Let it be known BlackBerry thief – you have 3 kicks at the cat. If you can’t crack our password by the third attempt, the berry shall wipe itself clean and you Sir/Madam are screwed.

The worst part about having our blackberry stolen? Never mind that it also took all our contacts, messenger PINs and email addresses. Never mind that we haven’t had to remember a phone number in almost 8 years. Never mind the girls of dubious standards we can never contact again now that we have lost their numbers. It damn near makes us cry to think that when we are buckled at 3 AM this weekend we shan’t have a single girl to harass the world in the hopes they let down their defensive shields and beam aboard the NCC-WG4.

No, the worst part of it all is losing the kick ass game of World Series of Poker we had going. Like a really, really good game. You start against 5000 competitors and you get $1500. We had been playing for a couple of weeks and were down to only 300 competitors. Think we can rebuild this any time soon? Hell no.

But Wanye – why are you wasting our time telling us all of this?


Because you cold hearted sons of bitches – the Nation is the only medium of communication we have left at our disposal. We don’t carry around phone numbers or email addresses. We don’t have a home phone or a fax machine. What year is this? 1994?

No, we are going to have to live our entire life over OilersNation until we can put the pieces back together. The following (in no particular order) are the messages we need to get out this afternoon. Hopefully our pals take a look and are able to respond in a timely fashion:

A.H: Are we still on for that meeting later this afternoon? We can’t recall what time it was (it’s on the calendar on the berry) but odds are we won’t be able to attend anyway due to another meeting that arose this morning so you may have to go without us.

M.A: We have to pick up those ACDC tickets and we apologize for not meeting up with you yesterday. You have to forgive us for not calling, we lacked both your number and the means to contact you.

N.P: We are sorry that we didn’t send you our daily email at 3 AM to info@natalieportman.com. We know you must become accustomed to some of our 1,304,302 messages we have sent you in the past 7 years – and we don’t want to alarm you in the least about our safety. We are just fine and soon enough we will be back in the game and able to send volley after volley of drunken love sonnets in your direction.

And finally a quick message to the easily tricked Ladies of Edmonton and surrounding area.

That’s right Ladies. The little black book hath been wiped clean and the field is now wide open. Those seeking a spot on our 3 AM text message rotation can email photographs and descriptions to wanyegretz@gmail.com

We may have to respond to you on the comments section of this article, but we will review all applications in a timely manner and potential candidates will be contacted directly.

  • I'm a Scientist!

    That timeline has your Black Berry disappearing right around the time Bettman banished Balsilli from ever owning an NHL team. The perp was obviously a henchman from Balsilli's company sent to wrek havoc upon anyone associated with the NHL. After realizing that every other person remotely associated with the league was sunbathing at some kick-ass private lake, they went after you Wayne. Oh, the humanity!!

    * Adds Balsilli onto his "People to Get Even With" list.

  • I'm a Scientist!

    @ The Towel Boy:


    What am I – an electrical engineer? Of course not!

    @ sittingatmydesk:

    There was a drinking marathon and I didn't get wind of it?

    *curses the thief for the 1,403rd time today*

  • I'm a Scientist!

    *runs off to back up his blackberry and password protect it*

    Jeeze…you didn't back it up? That's rough man.

    My blackberry just poured some out for yours.