It's perfect. It's awesome. Every day is just filled with just wins. All we do is put wins in the record books. We win so radically in our underwear before our first cup of coffee, it's scary. People say it's lonely at the top, but I sure like the view.

For everyone who predicted the demise of the Stanley Cup Champions, it was good while it lasted. Right now the Hawks are playing like it's June 2010 all over again. Not only are they playing well individually, but they believe in each other. They believe can't is the cancer of happening.

The Calgary Flames were the latest team to get nothing but pain in their silly travels for winding up in the Chicago Blackhawks' octagon, as the Hawks showed the only thing they're adddicted to is winning, racking up their sixth in a row with a 6-4 win in the United Center.

Let's get to this:

THE GOOD:

Jonathan Toews. He does not have to follow a certain path because it was written for normal people. People who aren’t special. People who don’t have tiger blood and Adonis DNA. He's tired of pretending he's not a bitchin' rock star from Mars. Another two goals and an MVP chant from the faithful following the game.

Brent Seabrook. If you love with violence and you hate with violence there is nothing that can be questioned. He was protecting his goalie and pounding anything in a white sweater all night. What a beast. Imagine what he would have done with his fire breathing fists.

Michael Frolik. He's an F-18, bro. His first goal as a Blackhawk, and a nice setup on Toews' sick goal and a selfless helper to keep Marian Hossa's goal streak alive at 5 games.

Brian Campbell. He has one speed, he has one gear: Go. A goal and an assist. He drew iron on another shot, or he'd have his first two-goal night of the year. Nobody's calling him overpaid anymore. At least nobody who doesn't have a 10,000-year-old brain and the boogers of a 7-year-old.

We are on a drug, it’s called Marian Hossa. It’s not available because if you try it you will die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body.

THE BAD:

Corey Crawford. The run he was on made Sinatra, Flynn, Jagger, Richards, all of them look like droopy-eyed armless children. But he was clearly out of steam in the third. It's time for QStache to bring in Marty Turco for a game and let Craw get a breather. Of course, this won't happen, as we know Q never screws with winning streaks. Maybe we just need to take a step back and say, "Wow, wow, look what this guy’s doing for us, for all of us." So in lieu of a night in a baseball cap, hopefully he at least gets a night without an assload of third period scoring chances.

THE UGLY:

Ryan Johnson on faceoffs. I'm not sure he ever sees a puck drop where he doesn't both get it to a teammate and fall on his ass. And you know, we need him and we need his wisdom and his bitchin’-ness. But we also need him to not look like he needs double runners.

Next up is Friday, when the Carolina Hurricanes pick a fight with 20 warlocks.