Auld Lang 'Ockey

Guess what, friends: I attended a sporting event this weekend. Despite my illustrious sporting history, it may shock you to learn that I don't actually attend all that many organised athletic occasions, just as you'll be disappointed to hear that I haven't been to Mass in a while. Anyway, the last time I went to a game or match or throw-down or whatever was when my father forced me to sit through a match between Liverpool and some people who weren't Liverpool. After that two hours of my life that I will never get back, I swore that I would live each minute to the fullest and thus never watch a bunch of fully-grown adults chase an arbitrary object in pursuit of points that have no effect ever again after that game is finished.
So what tempted me back? All the cool kids were doing it.
The cool kids in question happened to be these guys:

Colm the column is really the glue who holds us together.

That's (from left to right): Naomi, Nicole and John. I first encountered (and blogged about) them at the conference in Amiens but as far as I know this is the first time they've actually been documented on camera and so, naturally, the picture's pretty blurry and we can't be certain it's not just a grizzly standing on its hindlegs.
The above photo was taken in Amiens, where the Ice Hockey match was, at the ferris wheel of the Christmas Market, for which you pay four euros and boy, do you get your money's worth: by the third go-round, we were starting to get sick of each other; by the fifth, factions had formed; by the eigth, there was an actual murder scene. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

After that, we did some exploring of Amiens and its various Christmas wonders, which included but were not limited to, a christmas display with some questionable upside-down cookie on fairy action:

In this much clearer photo, you can clearly see that they're actually just a weather balloon.

Another with some horrible racial politics:

The brown bear is being hidden from view in the box, while the white bear is allowed to frolic free.

And some really freakish animatronic Christmas trees which, when photographed, were not there. I'm pretty sure one of them followed me home.

Then it was time for the hockey game. It was actually very fun: they fight more than in football and this is awesome they're always carrying potential weapons in the form of massive bladed clubs. Plus, they can practically teleport from one end of the rink to the other using the power of physics and ice, so it felt like they moved much faster. Honestly, the most difficult part was trying to decipher what the yobs-cum-cheerleaders to our left were chanting: at one point, it was 'I love you baby' with what I presume were midly-altered lyrics; at another they seemed to be singing 'Auld Lang Syne' and I have no idea what they think that song's about; then, they moved onto just chanting what sounded like 'hockeys!'. Plural. We eventually deciphered that the goalie's name was the incredibly French 'O'Keith', which is basically homonymous with 'hockeys' said in a French accent.

After this, we went for drinks with Alberto, with whom John and I had stayed last time we were in Amiens, and who was very graciously putting us all up, even if it meant he had to sleep on the floor (I promise, mother, I offered to take this bullet, but he insisted). While drinking, I discovered two new cocktails which I just adore: the first is a brass monkey, which is just a banana milkshake with kahlua and the second is a strawberry daiquiri which is like grenardine but alcoholic. The next morning, I wasn't so much hungover as I was having sugar withdrawal symptoms.
After this, we retired to bed and I was sharing with John and yet again I didn't sleep-punch him. I think we can now safely say I'm cured and can see my teddy bear again. Oh, Snowy, how I've missed you.