The promised case-moth prescience experiment hasn't come to pass yet, apologies. I've been a bit busy and Roy's been a little moody this week. Next week for sure.

But briefly, speaking of unnatural phenomenon, I witnessed two highly unusual and educative events during the week.

I went to the footy on Sunday to watch my Dees embarrass the Dons, and saw something I've never previously witnessed. A Melbourne team was not only NOT slaughtered by the formerly white maggots, you'd have to say they got the better of decisions. (Most where technically there, barring the jack Watts push, but that's usually irrelevant.)

The interesting thing is I was beginning to think that I was simply becoming an unbalanced persecutionist, and that no matter what happened on a footy field I'd think my side was being robbed and treated unfairly. Now I've actually seen the other side, I know how it feels, and I know it's a sensation I've never had before. So it's good news, It's not paranoia, I actually am being persecuted.

The second phenomena I witnessed was related to the same event.
This may be a Demon oddity as the Bombers have had the wood over us for far too long, but has anyone else noticed that Essendon fans had become the most arrogant, born-to-rule arseholes that slithered around the face of the earth? The kings and queens of the in-crowd niggle? The "Thanks for coming. Better beat the crowd home losers" specialists?
Well what a beautiful sight to see, from about the 5 minute mark of the last quarter, the vision of red and black clad scum heading for the car-park, eyes rigidly looking straight forward and slightly down. Desperately avoiding any possibility of any stray eye-contact.
Suffer in yer jocks, couldn't happen to nicer bastards.

Drunk on a ladder. Round 15.

Three more 8s this week, just enough to mean we have another jackpot. I'll have to checkout where that stands, it must be getting up there into heady heights now. Rich Dickwad Wade, Corey and Jim Richo all negotiated their way to perfection. In so doing Dickwad finds himself just behind, but kind of equal to Brenton at the head of the table along with Grant.


With the top 6 Drunks all separated by one solitary point and, what 7 rounds to go, we're in for a torrid end to the season. Although it must be said it's starting to look like a good year to be a Tiger supporter (tips-wise).

Chucked a bit of burley out last week and got a couple of bites.
A pretty damn obvious link between the main topic last week and the heads.

NICK: Paul the octopus, Paul the roos, Paul the salmon.
HARV: Paul the octopus, Paul Roos (his holiness.), Paul Salmon.
JOFFA: Paul Roos, Paul The Octopus, Paul... no I got nothin.
And Taffa walked right up to the door... and right past it:
TAFFA: Paul the octopus, Paul Roos, Ben Cousins.

In a nutcase: this week's games of note:

Jono Brown's Roosters v Dean Cox' Birds in the battle of the hen-house between the two best-credentialed ring-ins. I'm hoping the birds get that jumped-up feather duster outa my face.

Both Joffa's Jaffas and Grant's Pappags desperate to keep the finals dream alive have win-able games they can't afford to lose.

I'm living in hope that Jim's Cheesies are of the Swiss variety this week up against my Chimps, who, themselves, still have more than enough holes in the list this week. Battle of the top 2 True Drunks. Go Chimps.

Sean Cox's Catfish v Benny's Nightmares, both still a chance to finish top 4 for that vital double chance, up against each other, and praying that Sammy's JCEs hit a snag with Dirk's sausage-boys.