Q & A with Mr. Cup, Stanley Cup

Now that's some crunk shit y'all. Lil Jon Online

Three posts on a Friday? What is wrong with me. Anyway, I wanted to pull out the 'way back' machine and go all the way back to... July 3rd. That day I posted an article about how unbelievably ridiculous it is for the NHL to feign the Stanley Cup's ability to talk and thus, give it it's own blog.

Well today, I'm going to go all Larry Brooks on your asses and pose some questions to Mr. Cup. I'm too afraid to ask these to Mr. Cup's face, both out of respect for the oldest trophy in sports and an underlying fear that a karate chop to the head from a metal object hurts a heck of a lot more than one from an actual human being. So, I'm going to imagine what an interview with Mr. Cup would be like instead. It's a fun exercise in internal conversations.

Let's get to it.

BMR: Thanks for taking the time to talk with me today, Mr. Cup.

Stanley Cup: Ain't nothin' playa. Ain't nothin'. Please, call me CG.

BMR: What's CG? Is that a nickname?

CG: It's mah street name, yo. Stands for Crunk Goblet Masta Flex! CG for short... West side Sheffield representin' y'all! Holla.

BMR: Sounds, um, sweet... Yo.

CG: Damn right, son. Damn. Right. Lemmie hear all the bitches 'n hos out there in cybaspaaaaaaaace! Holla atcha boy.

Bitches n hos: HOLLA!!

BMR: What the --

CG: Mmm, mmm. Those are some tasty lookin' mamas, boy. Know what I'm sayin'?

BMR: I think I follow. Ladies is pimps too. That's what the kids say, at least. Well, I've got a lot of questions for you, CG... There are so many places to start. How about this one: why is it that it seems as if you get lost at an airport on the way to an appearance every other week?

CG: That ain't none of yo' business. Look, I'm a very important person. I've got a lot of things to do. It's no fun to disappoint mah fans, but you have to understand that I'm a human being too, and things do, um, pop up unannounced. Know what I'm sayin'?

BMR: Oh I do, CG. I do.

CG: Now if I may interject for a moment...

BMR: Certainly.

CG: I wanted to say that Sebastien Caron has one fiiiine little lady. Oh my lord. Know what I'm sayin'? We did some things that you should --

BMG (interrupts): Ok, ok. We can't get too graphic on here, CG. But yes, I do know exactly what you're saying. That's one tight ass.

CG: Mmm! Mmm!

BMR: Now if you don't mind, let's play a game. This or That. I'll list two people or things, and you say which one you prefer.

CG: Sounds good playa. I'm all ears.

BMR: Ok, first one. Tupac or Biggie?

CG: Biggie, son. He's real as they come. He got shot. He's dead. End of story. Tupac? I don't know what that cat is doin, man. He's dead. Now, he's alive and he's putting out new albums every week. That cat is crazy. And I'm telling you he is alive. That is some weak sauce if I've ever seen it. You gotta be straight up with CG, man. Straight. Up.

BMR: Old school or new school?

CG: Oh, that's a good one. New school is fly, like they got all that ghost ridin' shit, man. It's awesome. Gotta show love to your elders, though. They paved the way for all of us, know what I'm sayin? And I miss some of those old dynasties, too. Wayne Gretzky, Billy Smith, Rocket Richard. Those Cats knew how to par-tay!

BMR: Off Wing Opinion or James Mirtle?

CG: God, you had to do that to me. Now you know I don't want to mess with no Dog the Bounty Hunter kinda shit. Next question.

BMR: Alien or Predator?

CG: Alien hands down. That is one scary motha fucka.

BMR: East coast or West coast?

CG: No coast. North side North America; I'm talkin bout Canada, son! Not the United States. Not the west coast. Canada! We talkin bout Canada!

BMR: And of course, the Godfather Trilogy or Goodfellas?

CG: Godfather. It ain't a trilogy for nothing.

BMR: That's it. Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule for BMR, CG.

CG: Ain't nothin' playa. Ain't nothin'. You stay fly.