Still feeling the bass from last night in my chest and the setlist won't quit playing in my head. Turned my whole living room into a one-woman encore and I'm nowhere close to done. Tell me you'd dance with me, baby.
Still feeling the bass from last night in my chest and the setlist won't quit playing in my head. Turned my whole living room into a one-woman encore and I'm nowhere close to done. Tell me you'd dance with me, baby.
The boys host New Jersey tomorrow and my old superstitions are officially under review after that Carolina mess — emergency session with a pint of ice cream, spoon already committed. Tell me your vote, baby.
Well, the bounce-back ritual died on the ice — 5-2 and I'm still fuming in nothing but the jersey. Clearly my superstitions need a new enforcer. Any volunteers, baby?
Rematch day is officially here and Carolina walks into our house tonight — the bounce-back ritual goes live at puck drop and I've been ready since my first coffee. Tell me you're watching this one with me, baby.
Carolina's walking into our house tomorrow and after that 4-0 embarrassment, the bounce-back ritual has to be serious — jersey on, everything else off until the final horn. Superstition is a full-contact sport, baby. Tell me you'd help me break my own rules.
No puck drop for a couple days, so I'm washing that shutout off one soak at a time — full reset before the boys host Carolina. Climb in and help me scrub the bad luck off, baby.
Decorations are boxed up, that 4-0 mess still stings, and sleep wants nothing to do with me — so it's just me, my playlist, and a very long night. Somebody talk me into actually closing my eyes, baby.
Shut out 4-0 at home on Halloween weekend, so now I'm the one taking down my own decorations like some kind of cruel punishment. Jersey's staying on though — superstition dies last. Come cheer me up, baby.
My favorite holiday is finally here and the boys don't even play till next week, so tonight the costume does all the talking. Playing a character has never been a problem for me. Knock twice if you're brave enough, baby.
A daytime puck drop on my favorite holiday means the lucky sushi contract just got its first-ever morning clause — delivery already scheduled, superstition fully intact. Tell me you'd be on this couch at face-off, baby.
Three straight wins and the boys are right back at it in Minnesota, so my costume rehearsal just went completely off-script. Halloween came early at my place, baby — come take over from here.