Sign me up for the “witless” protection program.

You may recall that I mentioned a few weeks back something about “football pools”  and such nonsense? 

I had never really been keen on participating,  mostly since it seemed too much to me like “homework”.  Plus, as some of the “teams” consisted of more than one person,  there was always a certain amount of consultation involved,  and this was all going on over the din of the pub on a Friday afternoon.  I just sat there.  Sipping a beer. 

That’s what you’re supposed to do, right?

Then there was “the great shutdown”,  when the Alcohol and Gaming Commission of Ontario (AGCO) put the squeeze on a few local watering holes, making the kinds of threats that they can,  if they sniffed out any more activity in the pool department. 

So, everyone had to get their money back. *OR*,  the pub would lose its licence.  That kind of thing. 

Much to the disappointment of certain readers out there,  I’ll not go off on a rant about those bastards at the Commission.   Just a bunch of bureaucrats “doing their job”. 

So fine.

There’s nothing stopping a group of interested parties in having their own little pool though, right?  I mean, there are “office pools”  all over the place.  When Suzy gets knocked up, there’s bound to be some speculation as to when she’ll pop out the kid.  All perfectly legal. 

Well, I think so anyway.

Now, if Suzy has to *sell* the kid to pay off her gambling debts well,  that’s a horse of a different colour.

 

Where was I?

 

Right. 

 

As it happened,  I decided to sign myself up for this little endeavour,  and now spend Sunday mornings with the “NFL dart board of picks”,  so as to get my choices in before the first kick off. 

Travelling Companion was quick to ask,  “But what the hell do you know about football?”

Well. 

Nothing.

Which is apparently the exact amount of knowledge that one needs to be leading in the contest.   Oh yes,  I’m not kidding.  I’m way out in front.  I still find it hard to believe.

Most every week since we started I’ve been going “three for five”.

This past week,  with some sort of smoke and mirrors,  I went “five for five.”

Alrighty then. 

The gentleman running this endeavour pointed out that I had thereby won twenty-five bucks.   *chortle*

I can dig it.

 

It had something to do with the “spread”. 

And you know,  we stopped using spread years ago and switched to butter.  Just read too many nasty things about spread.  Isn’t that what they’re talking about?

See,  I really have no f**king idea.

 

So sign me up!   Heck,  I’ll pick some more next week.

I do use a scientific method.  Really.

Like,  does “Quarterback X” have jock itch?

Is the team that normally plays outdoors suddenly playing inside this week?   It might get stuffy.

You know, things that makes sense.   Well, to me anyway.

Hey,  I never played football.  I was in the “Spirit Band”.  And let me tell ya,  it gets cold standing there on the sidelines.   But enough of that.

 

 

I decided I needed a new “do jiggy”.   The other one was kind of big and goofy looking,  although functional.  It’s already apart and in the “wood pile”.   Got that fireplace downstairs,  don't ya know.

Bonus points if you can name it. 

No prize,  just a mention.

 

The hook is only so I can hang it up.   Could have drilled a hole,  but thought I’d try something “new and different”.  Right.

 

Gratuitous photo of the front of the house.  It might be time to put away that hose reel.  Getting mighty close to the freezing mark at night these days.

 

Now,  here’s a slight annoyance.  Neighbour Dude two doors over doesn’t have a garage.  And I’m sure *he’s* annoyed by that but moreover,  this then means that he has to set up outdoors in order to do whatever the hell it is he’s doing. 

I think I hear the whine of a router mounted in a router table,  which is a wonderful way of amplifying what is already a pretty loud tool.

But hey,  I’m not opening any windows these days,  and my *shop* is pretty sound proof. 

Um wait.  Maybe I need to shut up?

Forget I said anything. 

 

By the way,  Mr. Six O’clock was very punctual.  I think it was something like two minutes after six when he showed up. 

The pick-up truck he was driving was suspiciously new, so maybe he goes around grabbing up free stuff from time to time?  Let’s not be making up too many stories here.

 

Enjoy the rest of your day.

 

Thanks for stopping in.

 

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