Or worse, make shitty comments about kids on gossip blogs.

Spare me the crocodile tears, and spare me the counter-narrative in which you would no doubt, NO DOUBT, handle in such a more tactful way.

Ken Starr’s world:

no, but he got the lame laid...

I know it is a different time, but I think what is said on the ice, should stay on the ice. Should he have chosen a different word? Sure, but honestly it doesn’t matter at all. Too many sensitivity meters are running at 99%. A hockey rink is not your cubicle.

2016 has already robbed me of so many artists who lived the lives I was not brave enough to try.