Its cold again. I'm cold. I'd like to feel warm. But I don't. Still, I now have a cup of tea and that is helping.

I think its time I bought a new winter coat. I haven't bought one for a long time and my old one is disintegrating. A new coat would be nice. It would make me warm. I wish I was warm right now.

Ok. Enough whining. On to today's blog.

Football. Some people drag themselves through the summer just to get to the start of football season. Others notice the insidious encroachment of football into their usual TV schedules. And some don't give a hoot either way.

Me, I quite like football, but I quickly get enough of it. I was lucky enough to be offered free tickets to a Geelong game on Sunday but I declined. "Why?", you may ask. Well I'll tell you. Basically over my lifetime I have been to maybe half a dozen AFL football games and I have failed to enjoy any of them. I don't like the noise. I don't like not being able to see properly (certainly not now that I have my 106cm fullHD LCD at home). I don't like the neanderthal-like regression displayed by some of the supporters. I assume its a temporary regression but its entirely possible those particular people were like that before they come, and continue to be like that when they leave.

And I don't like to watch Geelong lose. Every time I have gone to the footy, Geelong have lost. If I even watch Geelong on TV, even my beautiful new 106cm fullHD LCD TV, they usually lose. In fact, the only way for me to see Geelong win is if they manage an unassailable lead in the first half and then I can tune in. Even so, Geelong still hold the record for having established the greatest three-quarter time lead and still manage to lose. I saw that game.

As I was coming to work this morning I entertained myself, as I do, by thinking up strange changes to the world around me. This morning it was football. I wondered if Aussie Rules Football might not be more interesting if it was called in the spirit of Dungeons and Dragons.

I imagined Gary Ablett Jr attacking the enemy combatants with his +6 boot. Someone casts the dreaded "Chewey-on-your-boot" charm, but the young magician is not deflected. The Brisbane Lions defenders collapsing before his skill. The Geelong forward line unite in a frontal assault, hacking and slashing their way through. Dragons and Trolls doing bloody battle. The final score reveals The Mighty Cats take the day with 18 major strikes and 18 minor hits and take a paltry 5 strikes and 3 minor, barely denting their armor, leaving the Barely LionCubs with a deficit of 93 hit points. While The Cats celebrate their XP boosting win, the Brisbane Lions barely have the strength to kick their wounds.

I'd watch that.

But not soccer:
England swing at Italy and miss. Italy swing at England and miss. England swing at Italy and miss. Italy swing at England and miss. England swing at Italy and miss. Italy swing at England and miss. England swing at Italy and miss. Italy swing at England and miss.
The End

Grid Iron might be ok though, for a laugh:
The Chicago Bears are facing the Dallas Cowboys. Both teams are in full armor. They stare at each other while one of them tries to count. When they realise that isn't working, they all drop their weapons and punch each other in the face. In fact, rumor has it they are lined up facing each other to make sure they punch the right team in the face.

Maybe not, but I like to daydream.

Ciao!

Thought for the Day: Mr Whippy! Mr Whippy! Where for art thou, Mr Whippy?