Ugh. You know that when people search things in google and end up on this page - I know what they searched and how they got here. Some people get here because they searched " dog fucking" ... which means that maybe I should never use the words fuck and Sea Dogs in the same sentence ever again.
Some people search things like "Stefan Dumaresque called up to Mooseheads" or "Chad Earle Victoriaville" and " Pier-Olivier Pelletier Waterloo" to which I respond "holy shit, what the fuck" and then I myself do a search in an attempt to find legitimate proof. If I don't find something right away, I tend to let it go.
Why do I quit so easily? - because these searches are always like a prophecy. Nostradamus has nothing on my sitemeter. Stefan Dumaresque WAS called up to the Mooseheads, Chad Earle WAS claimed off waivers by Victoriaville and Pier-Olivier Pelletier IS now with Waterloo (the team which was abandoned by Ryan Mior in October).
I searched the web, I went to the Warriors home page. - NOTHING. What is the point of my "google alerts" when I do not check my e-mail all day? What is the point of my "google alerts" if some news slips past it? Why did this not appear in my inbox 2 months ago?
Well fuck me with the butt end of a goalie stick - because there he is - U Waterloo Warriors hockey. Wuest beat me to it, probably because he is an actual reporter and I am at work, writing about insect olfactory systems... ahem totally.
According to The Record.com:
Which totally reminds me... have I said coooo lately? Yeah, coooo P-O, big-bad mutherfuckin' cooooooo *pigeon mating dance ensues*. I swear to God that if I got my hands on something, like an old sock of his perhaps, I would encase it like Snow White in a glass box, it would be that precious. I would collect cells from it, clone them (I can totally do that) and make myself some tall, beautiful, French goalie children. I would marry that sock and... OK wait... this is getting creepy.