It's like these guys just want to taste my dick

Oh, hey media cameras. Surprised to see you here. I guess while I have a platform, I'd like to make some statements regarding the other players in this league that seem compelled to find out exactly what my jizz tastes like.

I'm a bit surprised by the repressed desires around the league to vicariously touch my dick through the various places that it's been. It's like the guys just want to rub their balls where my balls have been, presumably to live out a fantasy of actually rubbing their balls against mine. Just swimming in a sea of balls, these players...and this is certainly not a fresh water sea. A little salty. What I'm saying is they'd float. Actually, I'm getting carried away with that analogy. What I'm really saying is that the other players in the NHL want to taste my dick.

I mean, why else would they go around scooping up every scandalous little tramp that I've tossed by the wayside? These guys just want to fuck my sloppy seconds to live out a fantasy of fucking me. These guys just want to nuzzle up against my balls in the corner of my Vogue office, gently caressing them with their tongues like fresh popsicles. These guys want to then place my balls in their mouth and start stroking me softly, hoping that we eventually engage in full-fledged frotting. At the end of these fantasies that they obviously play out in their minds on a daily basis, we'll end the frot by mutually ejaculating upon each other, finally giving them their chance to taste my sperms at the thrilling climax to their wildest of wild dreams. I mean, I can't think of any other reason for the actions of these guys who snatch up every chick I drop like they were Christmas hams in Ethiopia. These guys just want to touch my cock.

I guess that's all I've got for now, but let me end by inviting Dion Phaneuf to just come out and suck me off if that's what he really wants to do. I mean, I'm a fucking fashion intern, for Christ's sake. I'd probably at least consider it.