Why George Gillette Hates Me

Okay, so here is the thing. A few months ago I was in Montreal and I was trying to get in to see Gillette and I called and called and I emailed and I even sent a couple of big-titted "interns" over there to try and get a hold of him, and nothing. The bastard wouldn't even return my calls - he thinks he is such a big wheel because he is an American and he owns all sorts of shit and he has way more money than I do. Arrogant fuck. I mean, all I wanted to do was stand beside a real NHL owner and maybe get some pointers, or a loan.

So I said fine, that's the way you want to do it, then you crossed the wrong guy, buddy. So I went back to Waterloo and I had the tech guys pull a dump of his Blackberry email and I saw that he was thinking about putting the team up for sale. Well, I did what anyone would do, I called one of my trained seals in the Canadian sports media and passed them the story. Big fucking deal! But then this asshole turns around and blackballs me at the NHL meeting in Chicago. I mean, what the fuck? Can't you take a little joke, George?

So yeah, this fuck throws me under the bus over a little email leak. Can you imagine? The prick - I am sure if it wasn't for him the other 28 owners would loved me. He spoiled the whole thing!

Jealous, that's what he is. Jealous.