Claude Lemieux Would Like To Be Punched In The Face One Last Time

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Other than a never ending obsession with finding the perfect poutine, my French Canadian upbringing also lent me the absolutely perfect turn of phrase to describe people so maddening, so infuriating, so...so...so goddamn loathsome...that without it, one is reduced to inarticulate grunting and wild arm gestures whenever that person's name is uttered in polite company: Il y a une face a bûcher dedans. Loosely translated, it means His very face just makes you want to cave it in with a Buick. By way of demonstration, compare and contrast, if you will, the following exchanges:

Exchange #1:

Dude #1: So, I hear Claude Lemieux wants to try a comeback.
Dude #2: What?? That bastard?? He's 43 years old!
Dude #1: I take it you're not a fan?
Dude #2: He's just such...he a fucking...God I...I mean...plbbttt!!! huhhhnnn! He just...hate him so...GAAAAAHH!! Accidentally punches passing smokin'-hot waitress in face with frustrated arm swing.

Exchange #2:

Dude #1: So, I hear Claude Lemieux wants to try a comeback.
Dude #2: What?? That bastard?? He's 43 years old!
Dude #1: I take it you're not a fan?
Dude #2: His very face makes me want to cave it in with a Buick. Passing smokin'-hot waitress, so impressed with your command of the hyperbolic metaphor, slips you her phone number. And that of her twin sister.

See? As the French also say...Le mot juste! And it perfectly encapsulates my feelings when I hear that Claude Lemieux is indeed, considering a comeback.

But hey. If it leads to more instances of this, then I'm all for it: