Dear internet fuckwads,
Guess who’s back? Avery’s back. Tell a friend.
I guess you needed me after all, didn’t you, Torts? I know Tortorella hates it when I call him Torts, so I’mma keep doing it. You sent me down to the whale? IN HARTFORD? You guys know how I feel about whales. You know I have a strict “no fatties” rule.
But it’s good to be back with the Rangers again. I’m very thankful for this opportunity, because I love New York. I am very glad to get another chance with the organization, as opposed to getting stuck in some backwater place like the KHL or worse, Columbus.
I know Torts only called me back up because Mike Rupp’s knee is hurt. Word of advice to Rupper: use some kneepads when you’re blowing dudes in back of the Wendy’s. Glass and stones can hurt—that’s what Taffy and Kira tell me, anyway. I mean, you’re getting 1.5 million a year for 3 years. I don’t know what you had at the Devils, but that’s not a half bad paycheck. You’re no Brad Richards, but he’s a real doucheknocker.
I know I seem a bit more controlled and calmer than I used to be. That’s because I keep getting my ass served with suspensions and counseling and all that other bullshit. It’s not me being all nice nice, it’s me not wanting to have a target on my back all the time. That’s bullshit. From now on, I’ll only do that shit when there are no cameras or refs around. For example: you know Wayne Simmonds? Wayne Simmonds is a real…class act. See? I’m all reformed now. Even though in announcing, “class act” is just code for “black guy”, it sounds really nice. It makes me sound like a great guy even though I’m really thinking he’s a total turburgler.
In closing, bite my ass, everyone.