Sod tipping

I'm about as likely to tip the lottery as tip the footy these days.

Miles off the pace, I forget about looking for the upsets that might help me catch the front-runners. I'm stick with my new found loyalty to the Bombers, otherwise it is a case of tipping faves to try for eight and a little small change.

To wit: cats, dons, saints, tiges, swans, port, north & doggies.

Lunacy & footy tipping

I better take a break from politics or I'll blow a gasket.

Back to footy, it is, where the Boarkinger is throwing out the rule book. There's no point in finishing the tipping in 20th place, therefore it's time to fly high or crash and burn in the process. We're going on gut feeling and half-hunches, we're tipping away teams and avoiding favourites.

We're tipping: pies, doggies (over cats at the cattery!), bombers, lions, hawks, carlton, port & freo.

We Trust that God is With Us.

Draft submission on the Wonthagghi Desal plant

You bastards!

We know, and we know you know, that we don't need your energy guzzling, sea life destroying, coastline despoiling, mega-priced industrial nightmare to secure our water supply. After two years of reasonable rainfall, it will be a white elephant, a carbunkle of cost on every household's water bill. It will be called "Brumby's folly" and will likely have you back on the opposition benches for a generation. Surely you cannot be so blind that you cannot see.

Just in case drought is the permanent new reality, here's what we should be doing:Water efficiency; water tanks; water recycling; grey water capture; storm water capture (you know, I presume, that more water drops on Melbourne than we use, even in drought years).

That will do it, problem sorted.

If, however, you really want water coming out of your ears:

Pipe it from Tassie; pipe it from the Kimberley; pipe it from Mars (where it's just been found); tow icebergs up from the Southern Ocean; drink Baldrick's urine; anything but the desal plant, you brainless, heartless, vandals.

So, here's me; grumbling leftie.

You never cared if I flirted with the minor parties because you knew I was rusted on to preference you above the Libs. Well no longer, this is the last straw. Next time Ted the Toff gets my nod on preferences, including in the Upper House where my vote actually counts. I doubt they'll be better, but can't see how they could be worse. Still, it's a sad day...

You bastards! Making me vote Liberal.

Turning into the home straight...

Still recovering from Sunday's horror. I've barely had a wink of sleep since.
Now as the Council tipping comp turns for home at round 15, I find myself a bit off the pace, cracking the whip with fury.
In this somewhat strained analogy, "cracking the whip" means tipping underdogs. The best u-dog to be tipping of late, is my Dons who are coming good. The Bombers have had a decent run of late at the 'Dome against Brisbane. 2001 was a long time ago.
Lots of close games this week according to the bookies. I'm going for the home teams apart from the Tigers. They've got form at Subiaco and can continue the Eagles losing streak, I hope.
My apologies to Blues fans: my tipping against the Saints will likely ensure they win.
STOP PRESS: Just heard on the radio that Richo is out. Maybe I should go all home teams?
Oooh, indecision creeping in.

Split round tipping nightmare

Is there anything worse in the whole wide world?

Imagine...

You tip Collingwood when they are underdog

You note it in your diary

You blog about the reasons why they'll win

Therefore you spend Saturday night barracking for the bloody Pies

And they win...

But come Monday you find that through some mis-click of the mouse ten days back, you had somehow got Sydney in the all important big money, high prestige work tipping comp.

You could have been back in the leadership group.

You find yourself languishing.

You are devastated.

This is how empires fall.

Serves you right for allowing yourself to get distracted (see previous post).

Can't feel both feet on the ground...

If you should find yourself on a winter's evening with a friend, lying on your rug in front of your gas fire, heads lightly touching and each sucking on a chupa chup:

"Whenever you're next to me, ba bah
Center of gravity, ba bah
Can't feel both feet on the ground..."

I highly recommend Yo La Tengo's Center of Gravity on the stereo, remove your lolly to join in on each ba bah.

It makes the perfect sublime.

Late tipping news

The hypothetical reader was shocked at the failure of this blog to get in the tips before last weekend. What could be distracting Ernst? Not romance, surely?

The weekend proved challenging for the tipper, the three out of six on the Boarking sheet, assisted by the Dons getting over the line in Subiaco, looks pretty reasonable. I missed out on Carlton and kicking myself on it; I’d never have tipped Richmond if I’d known about all the centenary hype surrounding their game, you just know they muck up games like that. Can’t work out the saints, my tips suffer accordingly. Like everyone, I missed Melbourne.

This weekend I’m fairly confident on Geelong and going for the Pies over Swans. The Swans are rightfully favourites, however:
Pies have excellent record in Sydney,
They’ve a few good Ins,
Their form is not as bad as recent results might suggest,
They need the win more.
It’s painful, but I must barrack for Collingwood this weekend… urgh!