LONDON - It is perhaps the worst-kept secret on the Canadiens roster, but our man Sergei Kostitsyn is not a man at all, but rather, a boy. A boy in need of maturing. And who better to mature a young boy then yours truly?
That may have come out wrong.
As a carded member of the male sex, this journalist has frequently been granted access to female units. Being gifted in the art of song, dance, and swollen pantaloons, that ingress has always been easily lubricated. And it is with that admittance that this "playa" will help that poor boy.
Your humble libertine caught up with Sergei this morning and let him know that he was to have a date with an acquaintance of the opposite sex this evening after practice.
It was an excited Sergei that came back into the dressing room this afternoon. Too excited, thought your philandering reporter. Action needed to be taken.
- Sergei, you're a bit wired. You need to settle down, buddy.
- But I excited. I like gurls. They soft.
- Sergei, I'm worried this won't turn out very well for you. Let's work something out together to calm you down, okay?
- Will they be boobs?
- I may have not thought this out as well as I should have. Okay. Listen. Your date is at 7:00pm. What do you plan to do before then to get ready?
- I try to remember where I left lucky socks?
- That's good! Excellent! What else?
- I blog about being nervous and Tweet what I do?
- Well, I suppose if that helps, but I-
- I choose baby names! Yes?
- Okay, I don't think-
- I take off pants and sacrifice small puppy and eat organs with raw fish sticks and jelly bean while listening to Micheal Buble and chanting 'dontscrewthisup' over and over until Oprah comes on, yes?
- What? I-
- Yes! I have it! I go practice with "pro"!
- Sergei, I... Sergei? Hey! Where are you go... Well, this'll go well...
More updates as bail gets posted
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