Archives For Pat Burrell Award for Awesomeness and Cavortory

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This post originally ran just over a year ago, when our favorite (NOW MARRIED!) puck bunny conquered roughly half a dozen soon-to-be professional hockey players. Sadly, there was no similar venture this year (that we know of…). So, while the sports world slows for a few days as we celebrate Bill Pullman’s famous Independence Day speech and I stock up on coffee, beer and Haribo Gummy Bears for our Flyers free agency running commentary on Friday, let’s relive the beauty and majesty of Princesss Sass, a tradition unlike any other.


Before we delve into the shadowy world of jersey chasing – puck bunnydom, to be specific – let’s rewind to an earlier time.

Back in April, during that series in which the Flyers embarrassed the half-assed hockey team from the western end of the state, we introduced you to (our favorite) partially cloaked Penguins fan: Princesss Sass, as she’s known on the Interrods.

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We first came across Ms. Sass when she posted pictures of some signs she brought to the CONSOL Energy Center to harass the Flyers. We then followed her solo travels to Philadelphia for Game 3 and, as recently as last week, featured her in our special puck slut PSA relating to the announcement of the NHL Draft coming to the City of Brotherly Love in 2014. Sass’ appearance in our PSA was to demonstrate the shooting-fish-in-a-barrel nature of the NHL entry draft, an event that sees scores of young, mostly Canadian, teen-something boys flock into a particular city for, up to that point, the biggest weekend of their lives. The weekend when they become men.

We have to give Sass credit. She’s taken our heavy ribbing in stride (even though I once called her a slore), almost reveling in her role as the stereotypical puck slut from Shittsburgh. But now she’s outdone herself. She has given us an exclusive, meticulously detailed account of her weekend at the NHL Draft – complete with pictures and screenshots – where she warmed up about a sixth of the top 60 picks.

Before last weekend’s event, which was held in Pittsburgh, Sass tweeted a preview of her outfit for the draft’s first night. For her and other puck bunnies (and I do wish to not be graphic here), the thought of bagging an up-and-comer who might one day drink from Lord Stanley’s Cup (or, less ambitiously, bookend Pierre McGuire along an NHL dasher) makes their underoos drippier than a protagonist during the rain scene in a mid-oughts romance flick.*

*Ryan Gosling vociferously objects! “I’m wetter and I look better! And I’m a poet.”

You see, hockey players, unlike athletes from the other three major sports, are fairly accessible. For example, if you were a jersey chaser and wanted to fuck LeBron James, you’d likely have to make it through long lines, VIP ropes, possibly a background check, a publicist, some posse and Mike Miller before you ever got near King. Then there’s a good chance you’d have to be taken for a test spin (perhaps simultaneously) by a few members of his inner-circle – sexual gatekeepers, if I may – to see if you were up to the task. With satisfactory performance, you might – might – have a chance to score with LeBron.

Conversely, if you wanted to bump baby makers with, say, Jeff Carter, all you’d have to do is wear a revealing tube top to La Costa this Friday night.

It’s just… easier to get with hockey players.

At the NHL Draft, it’s easiest: puck bunnies want in early and not-even-old-enough-to-shave athletes want their first (or second or third) groupie. It’s a perfect balance, this delicate ecosystem of fuck. And that’s where we begin our story.

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[Note: We’ve removed players' names from the story and texts. But among those included are five first-rounders, four second-rounders, two sons of former NHLers, and one (now) Flyer. All are 18, or younger.]

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Usually the Flyers wait until after their early exit from the playoffs to party in AC. But hey, that might be kind of difficult this season… so they hit up Caesars and its nightclub, Dusk, last night, according to several on the Twitters. 

View the Tweets and (incredibly strange) bathroom selfies… after the jump.

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image from

Wing Bowl, 2012

Bernie Parent is now writing a column for as part of the enigmatic website’s misguided effort to increase page views and save money by bringing on mostly non-writers to, well, write, an undertaking that likely won’t lead to a measurable increase in visits to the site. 

Well, maybe Bernie will lead to a measurable increase… in visits to the site.

In what has to be one of the strangest and most surreal (read: awesome) columns you will ever read, Bernie, citing his “balls to go out there at 66 years old” for the Winter Classic Alumni Game in 2011, encourages you, the reader, to find your hidden wolf this Valentine’s Day.

Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Parent: [the fun parts are highlighted]

For some, Valentine’s Day is a time to show your appreciation for loved ones. For others, it’s a day of impending doom, a pointless “holiday,” and a yearly reminder of the reasons you are single.

Being that I am a seasoned ladies man and “Philadelphia’s most interesting man,” I have the same message for both types of people: Find your wolf.

If you are single, allow yourself to do some inner-searching and find the person that you want to be, so you are ready and willing to share that with someone else when the time comes. Remember, happy feelings will attract happy circumstances.

For those of you that are in a relationship, let your partner be their own wolf. Don’t restrict your partner. Let them fulfill who they are as an individual; it does not mean they don’t love you. If you let them go, let them do, they will explore and be their own person. That is what makes the bond between the two of you stronger.

Don’t leash them, don’t cage them, just have fun. And do it together.

“I am a free spirit; either admire me from the ground or fly with me, but don’t ever try to cage me.” –Unknown.

I’ll open up the floor to the readers. Email me your questions.

Stay horny, my friends.

–The Most Interesting Man in Philadelphia
Bernie Parent


I am speechless. Horny, but speechless.

Never change, Bernie.

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Hartnell DTF! 

Not since that time NBC 10 sent Sheena Parveen on an awkward lunch date with goofball Hunter Pence have we had a story about, well, Sheena Parveen going on a date with a goofball local athlete.

Dan of Gross of was informed by a tipster, who says he works at the Irish Pub, that Hartnell and Parveen were having drinks at the bar late Wednesday night. Doing his usual due diligence, Gross found that it wasn’t the first time the pair had beverages together: [

Parveen was also seen hanging with Hartnell in the VIP area at Dusk at Caesars in November after the Operation Hat Trick charity game he organized at Boardwalk Hall to benefit Hurricane Sandy relief efforts.


This is huge, folks. Hartnell’s apparent courtship of Parveen puts him in rarified Philly-cock-swinging air once inhaled by the likes of Pat Burrell and, yes, John Bolaris (back in his Lauren Hart days). This story also answers the question: How does Scott Hartnell celebrate being named the fifth hottest hockey player by Cosmo


What’s more is that the decision to go to the IP is a move ripped from the pages of Burrell’s playbook. It’s like the sex manual that Kevin’s brother talked about in American Pie 2– this book that some guys brought back from Amsterdam in the early eighties. What to do with your tongue, things like that. And each year, it got passed on to one East student who was worthy of it.

Only one local athlete at a time is privy to the book's contents– things like, "cab companies quickest to Irish Pub, Public House and Drinker’s," "how much get home money to give in the morning" (it’s commensurate with her education), and “cunilingizing a TV anchor.” HARTNELL’S GOT THAT BOOK! Not saying he did those things with Parveen, but he has the book. Jeff Carter had it before him (Hartnell presumably skipped the chapter about how to start a rumor that you’re nailing your teammate’s wife). John Clark before that. Darren Daulton back in the day. But now it’s Scottie’s. His to do with what he will. Perhaps he’ll marry a Hooter’s girl, dye his hair blonde, or ride down Broad in celebration on a Clydesdale-pulled wagon. The possibilities are endless.

Screen Shot 2013-01-08 at 2.26.13 PMCosmo says he’s hot… and Hartnell’s down with that

OH MY GOD HE’S SO SEXY IN SO MANY WAYS, all the ladies say.

Well, at least that’s what readers of Cosmo say. The magazine's list, Hot Hockey Players, unveiled to thirsty lady loins everywhere today, ranks Hartnell fifth in the league. His position is justified thrustly… er, thusly:

You might recognize this left wing from his cameo in This Is Forty. Or from scoping out his sexy red curls on the ice. 


Claude Giroux didn’t crack the top 30 (which makes at least one girl very sad), nor did any other current Flyers. Jaromir Jagr finished 30th, presumably thanks to Cosmo’s more mature, perhaps bushy, Eastern European readers.  

A few other names of note: Jeff Carter, our former sword-swinging sex machine turned Stanley Cup champion– he finished second (Mike Green and his Gerber face finished first). And Sidney Crosby– 15th, somehow (his inclusion was mandated by the league). 

If a sudden influx of estrogen allows you to click, you’ll be able to see the full list… hither.

The next time I see a feminist nut complaining about men objectifying female athletes – like the luscious Alex Morgan – I'm going to spam them links to the descriptions for every player on Cosmo's list. Just for sport.

H/T to Sarah Baicker

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Oh, Ed. Never change. Just keep pocketing Philadelphians’ hard-earned money and laying the propped-up pipe to significantly younger women.

Dan Gross of confirmed a report by Sports Input that Snider, 79, recently got engaged to Lin Spivak, 45. Snider didn’t confirm any details, but Sports Input’s original report, from Friday, November 9, said that Snider, while dining at a fancy Santa Barbara restaurant, excused himself to go to the bathroom (growing problem…) and then a group of actors and singers came out singing Bruno Mars’ Marry You to Spivak while Snider got down on one creaky knee. Sex.

Spivak will be his fourth wife.

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I’m kind of hesitant to post this because the last time (I think?) I wrote about Danny Briere’s love life – when Danny was allegedly texting pictures of his Briere to Gina Lynn, according to her ex-husband, Travis Knight, who later told me he was lying – I immediately received a phone call from a Flyers spokesman saying that Briere denied ever doing such a thing. But now, the league is locked out and Briere’s in Germany, so if he wants to deny this one he’s going to have to call me himself.

Reader Sean unearthed this one. He sent me what has to be one of the weirdest emails I’ve ever received, and that puts him in truly rarified air:

I figured I would pass this on, do with it what you will. I'm sure nobody else came across this, the only reason I found it is because I skateboard. To be fair the dude who it happened to isn't a pro yet, but it is his job and he does make money. I guess the best way to describe him is a farmhand, making his way to the show (skateboarding has different definitions of what makes you "pro") . Anyway both guys are from our area, the other guy is one of the best skateboarders in the world. 

Anyway, maybe you could save it for a rainy day with no hockey. 


Yeah, let’s save it for… now! 

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In the video after the jump, filmed in May, you can see skateboarders Chris Cole and Kyle Frederick discussing a bunch of complete nonsense, including but not limited to the size of their penises, bobcats… and the time Danny Briere was texting (and perhaps fucking) Frederick’s girlfriend.

Frederick: [left the “likes” in there, for effect]

No, like I was actually dating her. We dated for a couple months. We ended up going out to dinner and she’s like texting, like, a dude. I was kinda weirded out by that, I guess, and she’s like, “Oh yeah, my friend Danny.” I’m like, “Oh OK, that’s cool, I guess.” Like, I have friends. 

I guess I was hanging out with a bunch of friends and, like, mentioned her name, and someone was like, “Hey, is that that chick who banged the whole Flyers team?” And I’m like, “What do you mean?” He goes, “Apparently that’s the word on the street.” I was like, like, kinda thrown off. Then I’m, like, thinking, and, like, we hung out again. That Danny turned out to be, like, Danny Briere. And I’m like, “Holy shit, this is true! This is happening.” She’s like, “Oh yeah, like, we met, like, out somewhere, like, in Philly.” I was like, “Holy shit! This is real! This is real!” 


Nice job by Briere, who is divorced. Can't imagine why. Video after the jump.

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Peter Laviolette can’t be taking this lockout well. I imagine that he chews on glass to keep busy. Perhaps screams obscenities at neighborhood children who take their sweet ass time walking to the bus stop. What, the fuck, is the matter with you? Yesterday? Fine, you were tired. Not today. Unacceptable. I don’t give A FUCK that daddy hit mommy. Not gonna have it! Not here, not now. This is too important. Now let’s go– get on that bus with some fucking jam!

I’m just guessing.

Anyway, I’m assuming the Flyers are still paying him, and, well, it’s not to coach. So just what is Lavs doing to keep busy? Well, this:

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Kind of literally.

That’s Lavs' wife, Kristen, who was honored along with 18 other women for her “talent, style and contribution to the city of Philadelphia” at the XIX Most Fashionable Women in Philadelphia Awards on September 18.

Lavs wrote about it for the Flyers’ website. Let’s do that again: Peter Laviolette wrote an article about a ceremony honoring, ostensibly, hot women. His wife included.

What a fucking boss.

To the grammaticals, which are hilarious: [I included the entire article, because it’s awesome]

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