...everything must go. Our team, our time, my ASS.
Alex Grant (to Shawinigan)
Christopher DiDomenico (to Drummondville)
Pascal Amyot (to Halifax)
Alexei Dostoinov (to Gatineau)
Is there anything else I need to know my dearest Sea Dogs?
Not only are the Sea Dogs ridding themselves of all their boys, they are getting rid of their jerseys too. They are having another jersey auction, with last year's team jerseys, and there is NO Fullerton jersey. WTF??? (* edit - HA, he is there now. Got ya sucka. )
What about ME? What about MY satisfaction? I choose to stand by these boys and it gets me nowhere. The 2007-2008 Mooseheads - Nothing, the 2008-2009 Sea Dogs - Nothing, my string of real life boyfriends - Nothing.
Where is my President's cup? Where is my satisfaction? You selfish bastards - all of you. It is like I get fucked over, and over, and over again, but to no avail.
She cheered for a goal, she must be happy. She keeps coming back for more, she must be happy. I want to throw things at you.
Why don't you just ask if I am happy? You know what you have to do but you fail to do it. Instead you just keep pounding away: useless trades, aquiring draft picks, bringing in thuggish free agents, reclamation projects. No wins. Can't someone just get the damn job done...
JB says he is being proactive with my secret lovers, the Sea Dogs; and as for the Mooseheads... I think I am settling. We have just grown so comfortable together and I am a sucker for dissatisfaction. I think I am drawn to things that are guaranteed to disappoint. It is my masochistic nature.
*Also of note
Where the fuck do people on message boards come up with their bullshit? Why do I waste my time reading their bullshit? I think it is because I just like getting angry. I refuse to participate in their bullshittery. I have bigger, better trouble to be getting myself into.
Me? I stick with quotes, facts, stuff I actually saw at games, newspaper references, links, things that are clearly bullshit (Claude Giroux is obviously not a hockey playing squirrel), my opinion - which I never tried to pass off as fact, and sexual innuendo. Lots and lots of sexual innuendo.