round round round like a record baby

Welcome to the next round of footy tips. I know you were all waiting for my tips last week, sorry I missed them; I was too busy fighting off Matty Johns’ sexual advances. Oh wait, we’re over NRL sex jokes now? Right. In that case, I was too busy thieving bar mats from a Thai nightclub.

On that note, I will now not steal bar mats from King O’Malleys ever again, and especially not blame it on my friend when I/we get busted for it. I had no idea these things were so valuable. Sorry about that, Skip.

For all intensive purposes, let’s just assume that last week I tipped a full round and was proclaimed to be the best thing since bread came sliced. This week, tips are proudly brought to you by April O’Neil, who is actually a girl who lives in Perth and has never seen a game of rugby league. I reckon she’ll do ok.

Rock on, April…

Eels vs Rabbitohs
April says: So I’m pretty sure Big Russ dragged the Rabbitohs back from the abyss, and being a bit of a fan of his (because despite the fact that he’s a born kiwi lad we’ll actually claim him as our own because us Aussies are good like that) I’ll go with them this week.
Mister Evil Breakfast says: My brother will kill me if I tip the Bunnies because they get beaten whenever I do. Go Eels. My love for Parra is everlasting.

Wests Tigers vs Broncos
April: If I was asked to name one of the 16 footy teams, and for the benefit of the readers by footy I mean NRL (in case you are an AFL convert like me), it would be the Broncos. I don’t know why I happen to know they play in maroon and are from Brisbane, but I do. And after watching Sports Tonight last night, why the hell is Wests plural? It’s as bad as my brother’s hockey team Wasps. You think you’ve finished yelling for your team, and all of a sudden you have a whole heap of snakes hissing. Broncos, just so I don’t get tongue tied when I mention their name.
MEB: I like your style, April. Alas, the Broncos uniform is more white and yellow than it is maroon, but your heart is in the right place, i.e. your chest. I knew a guy who had his heart in his left leg; that was weird. I’m lying, I don’t know anyone like that at all. I need to meet more people.

Sharks vs Dragons
April: Whilst arse can get you a long way in footy tipping, there are some golden rules. Like not picking the bottom side, unless their coach has been sacked in which case they are sure to be playing your team and will beat them. So Dragons for me.
MEB: I love that Cronulla is in the comp, it means that the Raiders won’t come last. Awesome.

Panthers vs Roosters
April: Panthers have that slick, sexy, mysterious look about them. Roosters are annoying when they wake you up at stupid o'clock. Panthers.
MEB: And I hate Willie Mason.

Bulldogs vs Storm
April: We had our first rains in about 23 years today, so if that's not an omen I don't know what is. Storm.
MEB: I am SO hungry right now.

Raiders vs Warriors
April: I'm sorry, I can't do it. I'm sure most readers are massivo Raiders fans, but tipping with your heart won't win the big bucks (and if there are big bucks involved why don't I know about them???). Plus Kiwi's are hot (and given their World Cup win last year, can apparently play a bit too). Warriors
MEB: The Raiders were obviously robbed in last week’s game (lost 46-6 to the Storm) so they’ll use that as motivation to overrun the hapless kiwis. And I have it on good authority that Joel Monaghan is getting his hair cut today, so he’ll be looking slick and will be more aerodynamic than ever.

Titans vs Sea Eagles
April: It's the CLASH OF THE TITANS… and the Sea Eagles (thought I'd keep some continuity on the blog). I tried to find some photos of the teams/boys to make a typical female call based on colours and arses. All I could come up with was that Manly’s Matt Ballin was voted the sexiest man in the NRL. So I typed his name into the search engine and came up with this photo:

I thought ‘if that’s the best NRL had to offer it’s no wonder I watch AFL! But then I googled him, and found a photo with his shirt off. All was forgiven – Manly, whichever of the two teams that is.
MEB: I appreciate the continuity. For the record, I don't rate Matt Ballin at all, Manly are the Sea Eagles and the Titans are a bunch of girls.

Cowboys vs Knights
April: Cowboys are so not fashionable at the moment, but every single gal wants a Knight in shining armour to sweep her off her feet. Knights
MEB: Knights are shinier, too.

April: I take no responsibility for my actions… or these tips.
MEB: With great power comes great responsibility. And women.

This seems to be a well-rehearsed play. Forget about looking at the ball, just wave your hands around

Do they still play AFL? I hadn’t noticed. In the rare event that they players all stop tickling each other and kick the ball betwixt those sticks, here’s who will win:

Cats vs Dogs
The epic struggle of history’s greatest rivals continues. Most would say dogs will win, but dogs are stupid, and if you piss a cat off, the dog will always get a fair scratching. Cats can be vicious, man.

Kangaroos vs Dockers
When I was typing this, I accidentally wrote “Doggers” and then it took me about an hour to realise that there’s (a) no such word as Doggers, and (b) I wouldn’t go for them even if there was such a word. Go Roos. I’m so tired.

Crows vs Blues
I saw a crow on the way into work today. I’ll take that as an omen. It might have been a magpie, actually. I think it was dead. Hmmm. Sometimes these omens are hard to decipher. Like, my car is blue, but that’s not a good enough omen for me. I see that thing every day.

Eagles vs Magpies
I can fly higher than an eagle because you are the wind beneath my wings. Thank you for providing inspiration to the Eagles, Bette Middler. I’ll never forget your guest appearance on Seinfeld. I have no idea how you ever became famous or successful.

Tigers vs Bombers
The Tiges are in Struggletown, if what I’m hearing on Sports Tonight is correct. The Bombers are in Essendon. I think that speaks volumes.

Swans vs Power
On REM’s fourth CD (Lifes Rich Pageant, 1986) there’s a song called “Swan Swan H.” It’s a really good song, actually. The H was finally revealed in 2007 to stand for “Hummingbird” which I already knew, because it’s the next word in the chorus. Sometimes Michael Stipe isn’t as cryptic as he thinks he is. Go Swans.

Saints vs Lions
I think these teams should merge and be St Lions. How awesome would that be? A big fuck-off lion cruising around spreading peace and doing God’s will by eating people. I can’t wait. I think the Saints are going well this year, yes? Let’s continue on that bandwagon then, friends.

Hawks vs Demons
Seriously, how many teams are in this comp? I feel like I’ve been writing this shit for hours. I’ve got things to do today. Honestly. I think I heard something the other day about how much the Demons suck; I admit, I may be making things up or hearing voices, but those voices haven’t let me down yet, so I’m going to stick with them. Go Hawkeye.


Good luck this week, and remember: Tipping isn't just for Christmas.

Ashes Ashes we all fall down

So as I was lying on my deathbed last week, I began counting my blessings (as you do). Hilarious, witty, charming, handsome... It was a long list. Anyway, my blessings apparently don't include "being awesomely good at cricket" which is something that I will always regret. I am guessing that Ricky Ponting will have the same issues when his time comes (hopefully next Friday).

And then I got better and my deathbed reverted to being my normal bed again, which was nice. Less brooding. I should change the sheets though.

"Not being awesomely good at cricket" has meant that I've been left out of the Aussie squad that is attempting to quash the old enemy and retain that tiny little urn that is all things dinky-di-true-blue-she'll-be-right-cobber-blokey-Dazzler-Davo-hooroo-matey-tinnie-barbie-Oz - the Ashes. The Ashes are steeped in tradition, and the popular version is that the trophy holds the actual ashes of the bails that were burnt in the first game in which Australia defeated England, signifying the 'death of English cricket.' I would prefer if the captain of the losing side was burnt and his ashes were put into an egg cup, but that's just me.

The recent fight to be the Ashes' holder has been a bit dicey - it was Australia for about a million years, then England won them back (possibly by cheating) in 2005, then Australia desmolished the pack of under 12 girls that the Poms sent out here to defend them in 2007. Will the see-saw of cricketing power continue to do what see-saws do, or will Australia regain their once-solid grip on the Ashes urn like a piece of blu-tac that cannot be removed from a wall? Will England surprise the Aussies as if they were the unsuspecting recipients of a surprise-party, or fall like baby giraffes with bad hips?

Time will tell. So will the scoreboard.

Australian cricket has been in a bit of a slump lately; we convincingly lost to India, couldn't even beat the Kiwis and drew with the Saffas. Zimbabwe and the Bangladeshis were pissing in their pants with excitement to have a hit against the Aussies and finally beat someone other than themselves, but they couldn't afford to tour after the clever dicks at Cricket Australia withdrew their "Save the Children" donations.

So who has been picked to head over to Londontown to defend the Australian honour? These guys:

Ricky Ponting (captain)
To be more correct, 'captain' should be prefixed by 'should not be' and suffixed with 'let alone be in the team' and have the parenthesis taken off so his name would be "Ricky Ponting should not be captain let alone be in the team". I may have over-explained that. I don't like Punter at all, and if he fails in this campaign, should kiss his career, sponsorships, wife and acorn collection goodbye.

Michael Clarke (vice-captain)
On his day, Pup is the goods. When it's not his day, he's an embarrassment to anyone who has ever said, "That Michael Clarke's a good player." While being highly revered for his prowess against spin bowling, he consistently gets out to them fairly cheaply and some (me) would say, rather stupidly. With some fitness concerns, way too many tattoos and shit hair, Clarkey is the next generation of Australian cricketers. And he has a wife who I can never make up my mind as to whether she's hot or not.

Stuart Clark
Despite being a dirty-firsty, Stuart Clark is possibly my favourite guy called Stuart that I know. Possibly. He's a no-nonsense kind of bowler, hits a good length and keeps the batsmen honest. Will probably get tonked for a million in England though, as he's just had surgery on his entire skeleton and looks like he would probably rather be sinking piss and eating pies than having to spend another tour with Ponting gnawing away in his ear.

Brad Haddin
Haddo is the first-choice wicket-keeper which is a definite worry as he struggles at the very basics of cricket, such as catching the ball. Considering that the only bowlers that Australia have are pacemen, the ball shouldn't be that hard to grab when you're standing about 60 metres away from the guy who's chucking it to you, but he finds a way. Haddin has spent some time in Struggletown with the bat, but has also scored a few decent knocks as well. So he's a loose cannon. I probably should have said that to start with instead of going on about his "sometimes there" skills. Personally, I think he looks like the kind of guy you'd love to hit in the balls with a pool cue and not feel bad about it.

Nathan Hauritz
Dear me. Dearie dearie me. The only spinner picked to tour is this guy - which says a lot about the Australian spin bowlers at the moment. Hauritz possesses a devastating 'straight ball' that he will use at least six times an over. Remember when the phrase "Australian spin bowler" used to make the English batsmen cry? Yeah, cherish those memories.

Ben Hilfenhaus
For fuck's sake, I AM AVAILABLE TO PLAY, AUSTRALIAN SELECTORS! I can't bat or bowl, my throwing arm is custard and I have a tendency to drop really easy catches. Why Hilfy over me? No idea. The universe is a puzzling place. At least my name reads like it's actually a completed word; if you had a shirt with "Hilfenhaus" written on the back, you'd probably think that a few letters fell off in the washing machine, and you'd go mental trying to find them.

Phillip Hughes
Sounds very regal, doesn't it? "Hello, my name is Phillip Hughes. Fetch me some rose water." However, I think the guy's actually a bit of a bogan, and I doubt anyone has ever called him Phillip (even his mum). Phil can bat like a little fucking champion, and even though he's only 20, should have been in the Aussie team about 7 years ago. That'd shut that Tendulkar bloke up, wouldn't it? "Meh meh meh, I was in the national side when I was 15 (or something). Meh meh meh." Tendulkar and Hughesy then could have had a contest to see whose balls dropped first. My money's on Tendulkar, though.

Michael Hussey
Michael Hussey? Michael? It's Mike, you stupid newsite that I copied this list from. Mike. The Huss is scratching around like a blind, demented rooster in a pile of syphyllis at the moment, and a lot of people have lost faith in him. Not me though. No way. Well, maybe a little. But I still love him. Just, you know... not as much as I used to.

Mitchell Johnson
Australia's latest revelation. Mitch stands out for his consistent ability to bowl fast, take wickets, field well and score runs against different types of bowling. But then, it's not hard to stand out for doing that with this pack of idiots surrounding you. It'd be like Raphael sitting in a tank of regular turtles and proclaiming himself to be better than them because he has ninja skills. Whether Johnson will be able to shoulder most of the responsibility of actually playing cricket for Australia while the other guys lick windows and wave to strangers on the bus is another thing entirely. Look for an injury in game three, I reckon.

Simon Katich
The Kat has oft been overlooked for Test representation because he's not flashy, isn't arrogant, doesn't snort lines of coke off the backs of Asian prostitutes and generally does what cricketers should do, i.e. play cricket. And apparently he put Michael Clarke in a headlock and threatened to kill him for trying to pussy out of the team song after a rare Australian win, so he's definitely on my list of "awesome blokes." I'd invite the Kat around to play Playstation with me, but would always let him win because (a) I'm shit at Playstation, and (b) I reckon he'd get violently angry if he lost.

Brett Lee
Brett Fucking Lee, welcome back, you show pony princess. This is Binga's official last roll of the dice for his cricket career, so he'd better perform. Personally, I hope he does; he seems like a good bloke. If I ever meet him, I think I'd try and get his autograph on a beer coaster or something, and then hang around him for way too long, talking about cricket and music and his brother (Shane) and his divorce and his sexuality and stuff. You know, just to make him a little uncomfortable because I'm a prick like that. Then I'd buy him a light beer and see if he takes it or not. Anyway, after having had some surgery to his hair, Bing has been thrown a lifeline to play for his country again, without having had any match practice in about seven years. Nice gamble, Aussies. My money's on black. Always bet on black.

Graham Manou
A tourist - he's been picked as the back-up wicket keeper so he won't be used unless Haddin dies and his body is ripped apart by rabid wolves or something. Good fucking luck getting the gloves, Gram. I quite like his name, too. Manou. Manou. Nice.

Andrew McDonald
Well, every team needs someone to pick on, right? Might as well be the ranga who can't bat, bowl or field. Macca thinks that's what Hilfy is in the team for, just quietly, so don't tell him. I am not impressed with anything this guy does on the field, but he's actually pretty funny and intelligent off it. Welcome to being a fish out of water with this lot, tiges. Enjoy your trip to England, don't forget to call your mum when you arrive safely (shut up, my mum made me do it as well).

Marcus North
Northy. Northo. Northwah. I've don't really have much to say about him, other than adding a different sound onto the end of his surname. Northington. The best thing about Northqueensland is that he's keeping Andrew Fucking Symonds out of the team, which is just fucking dandy by me. There's a movie called "Goal" about some idiot guy called Santiago who plays soccer and somehow goes from having a social kick-around in the slums of Guatamala (or something) to play in the Premier League (or something) in about two weeks. Every time there was a test of his skill, fitness or moral fibre, Santiago would fail it and then say, "Give me another chance!" and the coach would say, "Yeah ok," and Santi would prove himself until his next hurdle, and he'd just ask for another chance, which was then granted again. It was quite an annoying film, come to think of it, and everyone who was in the room with me while I was watching it knows just how angry I was with the poor scripting and soccer-goal-sized plot holes (sorry Todd). Anyway, Andrew Symonds was like Santiago. I'm so glad he's finally run out of chances, and Marcus Northumberland has been given a shot. This is a really long write-up on a guy that I know next to nothing about that somehow mentions a movie that I didn't like about a sport I don't know much about and a cricket player who wasn't picked for the Ashes tour. Gooooal!

Peter Siddle
I am going to give this guy the nickname 'Piddle.' Piddle looks like he's from the same block of granite that Andy Fucking Bichel was carved out of - not too flash, but with a heart so big his chest can barely cope with the load. Through sheer determination, Piddle will knock over a few Pommies, but won't get anywhere near Glenn McGrath status. He might go so far as to reach the lofty standards of Scott Muller though. If I was a fast bowler, I'd use this guy as inspiration to realise that skill has nothing to do with getting a baggy green and playing for Australia.

Shane Watson (subject to fitness)
The phrase "subject to fitness" is the clincher. He is not fit. The guy just isn't built for moving, which is a bad trait for someone who plays sport for a living to have. Snapped hamstrings, torn groin muscles, pectoral weakness, hairline fractures of his entire spine, shaving cuts, cuticles, this guy has it all. Why he's being picked for an Ashes tour is completely beyond me; I mean the guy can't even help out by carrying someone's kitbag or his arm would drop off. Maybe he's a good photographer and he can be the guy that everyone hands their cameras to while they pose with the guards at Buckingham Palace. Remember Watto - half press to focus, then full press to take the photo. And make sure everyone's in the shot (except for McDonald, the loser).

So what are our chances of retaining the Ashes? Pray for rain, lads. Pray for rain.

breaking up is hard to do. especially when it's food.

A little while ago, I bought a box of Le Snaks; you know the things that your mum used to pop into your lunch box when you were nine or something? Six packets of goodness, each one containing three crackers with a little pool of cheese spread in which to dip them. I saw the Le Snak pack on the supermarket shelf and thought, "Fuck yes. Those things were awesome! I haven't had one in about 20 years." I honestly thought they had been taken out of production or something. Maybe mum didn't buy them and I didn't ask for them. Touche, mother. Maybe the Uncle Toby's recipe was stolen and they couldn't produce the cheese anymore. Personally, I'd like to think that Uncle Toby's realised that the world wasn't quite ready for Le Snak in 1988 and have been waiting to unleash hell in 2009.

Or maybe, just maybe, they didn't actually ever sell, and the Le Snak that is sitting in my pantry is from the same batch that my mum bought when I was in grade three. When I peeled back the alfoil "freshness protector" thing on top of one of the packets, I immediately felt a harsh desert wind sweeping up from the biscuits. These fuckers were dry, man. Like, really dry. You know how sometimes you eat something that's dry and you turn to someone and say, "Man, this is really dry." And they'll say, "It doesn't look very dry." And you reply, "Well it is dry; try some." And then they eat it and say, "You're right, this is really dry." Well, whatever you ate has nothing on my Le Snak biscuits. Incidentally, Le Snak is the winner of the inaugral Mister Evil Breakfast Award For Being Really Dry (Food Category):

Le Snak have won the coveted MEB Award For Being Really Dry (Food Category)

Anyway, I picked up one of the biscuits and dipped it into the little pool of cheese - after all, that is what we all ate those things for, right? No one wants crackers, give us fake cheese that doesn't need to be refridgerated. It sunk about a millimetre into the cheese spread before it snapped. Being the bonza little Aussie that I am, I tried again. The biscuit broke once more. Snap. Snap snap fucking snap. Well... fuck. The years have been unkind to my "le french" snacky friend as the biscuits have become brittle and the cheese has become impenetrable. C'est la vie.

Le Snak - even though we have ended badly, I will always remember you for the good times.

Le Snak; it's French for "the snak" which is poor english for "the snack." I'd say it fits into the "edible" category, but wouldn't go too much further.

Wolverine, Wolverine, does whatever a Wolverine does

This is the Wolverine that I wanted to see...

For some reason, it's BLOCKBUSTER time at ol' Hoyts. The first big-budget action flick of the year is the X-Men spin-off bonanza that is 'Wolverine.' Well, it's actually 'X-Men Origins: Wolverine" but for the sake of keeping things simple, let's just call it 'Wolverine,' even though my mate Todd couldn't remember what movie we were meant to be seeing when it came time to buy the tickets and we almost ended up seeing 'Ghosts of Ex-Girlfriends' or whatever the fucking thing is called. You know it, it's got that guy without a shirt in it. But in this one, he wears a shirt. I know, Matthew McConaghey certainly has a wide acting range.

But enough about Matthew McConaghey - I think I misspelt his name - today I'm talking about the other guy who refuses to wear a shirt, Hugh Jackman. Hugh has regrown his sideburns and furrowed his brow to step back into the role of Logan McWolverine, or just Wolverine to his mates. Joining Hugh (we're on a first name basis) is Liev Schreiber, who has a very odd name. Liev (is that seriously a name?) plays Wolvie's brother Victor Von Sabretooth. These two guys are mutants whose bodies heal themselves; Wolvie has claws (cool) while Sabretooth can grow his fingernails (gay). Seriously, my mutant power of having a toenail that falls off is more impressive, and about as useful.

Righto. So the plot sees Wolvo and Sabres getting drafted by Stryker into a league of mutants that also features The Blob, Deadpool, Agent Zero, Kestral, and one of the hobbits from Lord of the Rings. The superteam goes around kicking the shit out of people and generally being badass. This is the good part of the movie. All of a sudden, Wolvie comes down with a bad case of lost testicles and sooks off into the jungle; he's had enough of all these shenanigans and quits the team. He pisses off back to Canada and hooks up with some little hottie (Silver Fox) and everything's going quite well for everyone. Love is in the air.

Sabretooth isn't as happy as he could be, and is sort of becoming a bit less than nice. He has come down with a bad case of 'being psycho' and starts killing the superteam. What a bastard, hey? I mean, imagine if the guys that you went to primary school with turned around and started trying to kill you a few years later! Talk about annoying! Sabes moves on from killing his team and goes after Mrs Wolverine. Wolverine vows revenge and goes back to Stryker who gives him even more superpowers by coating his skeleton in adamantium, the strongest metal in the history of strong metals. It's inde-fucking-structible. So Wolves goes out and tries to fuck Sabre's shit up, and this is where the movie falls apart in a bad, bad, bad way. Like, really bad.

If you haven't seen the movie, don't read those last paragraphs, or you'll ruin the flick for yourself.

...but this is the Wolverine that we get

'Wolverine' goes in a steady downward spiral as it tries to introduce as many other X-Men characters as it can into the final quarter of the movie. We get Cyclops, Emma Frost and Gambit, and they are basically just there to fill screen time. They add fuck all to the storyline, and the character of Gambit is especially wasted. Nice fight scene though.

I'm going to echo every other person who's reviewed 'Wolverine' and compare it to movies like 'The Dark Knight' or 'Iron Man' which deal in origin stories as well, but do it sooooooo much better than has been done here. I didn't see 'Wolverine' to watch Cyclops cutting his school in half with laser eyes. I don't even like Cyclops. Nor did I see 'Wolverine' to see every fucking X-Men character in the entire Marvel universe run around and save the world. Surely that's Wolverine's job? And I especially didn't go to see it to have Deadpool completely fucking destroyed. MY GOD. One of the coolest background X-Men characters is brought to life on screen and then ripped apart in the worst possible way. I'm not asking much here, Hollywood, but all you had to do was read a comic and not completely fuck up a movie. That's all.

There's also the oddity of having characters whose main attacking weapons are to stab and scratch... yet not a drop of blood is spilt. Wolvie spends most of his day up to his elbow in people's chest as he digs around, but there's no gore to be seen. There's no chunks of flesh on the tip of his claws, there's no spatter when he slashes around. There's not even a fucking drop of it on his singlet. I dare say that the budget of this movie was blown out due to the dry-cleaning bill. Well it wasn't due to script-writing, was it?

'Wolverine' is not a complete waste of time - I wasn't expecting movie magic, but I was expecting at least the illusion of a decent flick. It has its moments; Hugh Jackman is good, Liev Schreiber does a decent job at being a bit crazy... the special effects are nice... the action is decent... the photography is pretty good... but there's probably more wrong with this puppy than there is right. The worst thing is that there is a very good movie hiding underneath this thing somewhere. Also, don't bother forcing your friends to wait until after the credits to see the 'extra scene.' It's a piece of shit and you'll just embarrass yourself.

I give 'Wolverine' $8.

Apparently this guy likes Wolverine a lot. Personally, I'd just stick to collecting comics and stuff.

Evil Tipping, Mister Breakfast Style... with cheese.

I think it would be difficult for Greg Inglis to be any more horizontal than he is right here.

Thank Christ for split rounds, huh (thank you). It means I can get away with an even more half-arsed blog entry than usual to keep the faithful readers happy (or angry, depending on whether you bother reading the footy tipping section; apparently most of you hate it. To you: Go fuck yourselves. But since you've probably already skipped this entry to update your Facebook profile to "I am drinking orange juice LOL!" you won't read that. But I hope you feel it).

So my tips last week sucked royal dog’s balls, apparently. I apologise to anyone who used my recommendations for their own footy tipping comp - at least you're not alone in being a complete numpty at tipping. Righto, onto week whatever-the-fuck-it-is...

Cowboys vs Dragons
Oh God, I don't know. Fuck. Why are these games all hard? Why can't just one team be consistent in either being good or being useless (other than the Raiders)? Honestly. The Cowboys can't decide whether they're shit-hot or just plain shit. I reckon they might be shit out-of-luck this week though, as I'm tipping the Dragons to have enough firepower to blow the Queenslander's defence away and win by about 8 points. Yeah. 8 points sounds good.

Knights vs Titans
It's the CLASH OF THE TITANS... and the Knights. The Titans are playing quite well by all reports (well, at least one report, and that came from Matt Rogers; can you trust that dirty rat?) and the Knights are trucking along nicely as well; they've won some close games so far this year, and have proven that they can knuck it out with the best of them. But I think this game will be decided by who cheats more, and in that case, the Titans will be easy victors.

Broncos vs Sea Eagles
I am so over Manly. So over them. I'm like Rachel when she got over Ross when he was about to buy a cat with Julie. That's how over them I am. They're missing the Beaver, who I watched play in Super League on Sunday night at a million o'clock. This will be Manly's best chance to get a win up, as the entire Brisbane side is playing in the Test on Friday night and may be drunk, hungover or in jail by the time this game gets under way. Still, my money is on Brissy to continue Manly's season of woe.

Roosters vs Storm
Welcome to Shitsville, population: Roosters and Storm. The Storm have no excuses; they have a team chock-full of superstars, yet can't win, thus confirming the old saying that "a star team will always beat a team of stars." It also backs up the phrase "Melbourne are shit." However, the Roosters also prove the saying "the Roosters a bunch of pretty boy tossers who couldn't play footy if their gayhomo haircuts depended on it" is true. Melbourne to win in a canter, not that anyone will care. Not even Melbourne.

This guy has a lovely beard.

AFL is still a fucking mystery to me, but I'm doing quite well in my tips, so I won't complain.

Bombers vs Hawks
In the last game I watched (which was in 1984), Essendon beat the Hawks by about 20 or something. I think Hawthorn are still hurting from that game, and seem hungrier than the Bombers to exact revenge. Hawks by a half dozen pies (is that an AFL expression? It is now).

Cats vs Swans
Um. I dunno. I think whenever I tip the Swans, they lose. So in the interest of making my friend happy (he goes for the Swans), I'll guarantee a win and back the Catties. Go you Cats. Sleep for 19 hours a day.

Tigers vs Lions
The battle of the big cats is on! Dare I say it, this could be a Thundercat kind of battle. But instead of a battle between the Thundercats and an evil alien mummy thing, it's just between two Thundercats. Apparently the Tigers are in a spot of bother this year, so I'll tip the Lions. Raaawrr.

Blues vs Dockers
I'm Blue da de da de da da da. I'm Blue something about Queen Amidala. I'm Blue if I was green I would die. These are the real lyrics to that song, people. At no stage does it mention the Dockers. Hence, the Blues will win. Pffft. Dockers. Who are they kidding?

Kangaroos vs Power
"I'm just waiting for some POWER!" These were the words of Billy Idol as he wandered aimlessly around a floating stage during the 2002 NRL Grand Final waiting for someone to plug in his guitar. That POWER never made it. And now we know why; it was too busy beating the shit out of some Kangaroos 7 years later in an AFL game. Thanks for coming, Billy.

Crows vs Bulldogs
Undeniably the game of the round. It's undeniable, don't try and deny it. You can't, by the very definition of the word. The Crows will obviously win, because that's what Crows do. They win. They're born winners. You'll see. Crows by seventy. Is that a lot? It seems like a lot. Maybe even eighty. Or eighty-four, I can't decide.

Eagles vs Demons
"If you're a complete fucking spastic, text your football team's name and their opposition to 1900-MY-HEAD'S-UP-MY-ARSE and receive the winner of that game direct to your mobile!" I did it, and it came back 'Eagles.' It's written in the stars, in txt.

Maggies vs Saints
Oh when the Saints... go marching in... oh when the Saints go marching in... I want them to beat the Magpies... oh when the Saints go marching in." Look, it's in a song that everybody knows that makes no sense, so they'll probably win. No one writes a song about Magpies, because they're vicious little fucks and I hate them. I hate them with a stick and a helmet with those plastic spikes in it.

I'm feeling confident about this week's tips. Oh yes. Oh yes. Yes. Sip em if you tip em!

everybody needs good ones

Yeah sorry - Kylie was never hot until she dipped herself in a vat of plastic and remodelled her entire body. And even then...

Ramsay Street has been in fucking liquorice lately, my friends. Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song, and I'll try not to sing out of key now. I haven't been watching it as regularly as I could have been, there's been some drinking and ninja assassinations getting in my way. You know how it is. But here's what I do know...

Rachel: Accepted a position at a flash uni in London and moved there the same day. I find it strange that she's already at uni despite the fact that all of her classmates are still getting through high school. But it was an emotional farewell, and everything she'll ever need was taken as on-board luggage in a backpack. Nicely done. I love a girl who travels light.

Ty: Moped around for a week or so because Rachel was gone, then booked tickets and flew to London... on the same day. I guess bartending at Charlie's pays more than I thought. All of the kids of Ramsay are disappointed and terrified that he's gone... who will teach them how to play the recorder now?

Zeke: Was found after his kayaking incident, had amnesia and was living with someone who pretended to be his dad. Karl and Susan rescued him (of course) and took him home. He became even more emo and had a fight with Ringo, with whom he was sharing a bedroom. I don't know what's going on with the two of them now; Zeke is too busy being the DJ on a pirate radio station and spilling the beans on everyone's lives in Erinsborough. I think the writers have been watching Pump Up The Volume a bit too closely. Zeke is definitely a poor man's Christian Slater. So very, very poor. I miss Christian Slater.

Karl: I haven't seen him for a while; I'm assuming he's still single-handedly curing cancer and fighting crime in his spare time. I think it's time Karl had a tragedy in his life. Shouldn't take long, I reckon.

Susan: ...is she even still around? I haven't seen her lately. But then again, I haven't really been looking. No doubt she's being the 'rock' to everyone in the street as they go from tale-of-woe to tale-of-woe. Good ol' Susan. I'd probably have a coffee with Susan, actually. As long as she pays, of course.

Donna: Still hot, but looks won't help anyone when you're having trouble with your mum. Mrs Donna has apparently ruined Donna's acting career by teaching her the 'wrong way' to act in her audition for the school play. Then Mrs Donna electrocuted Declan by letting a cat go outside. Donna is now trying to divorce her mum, which is a smart move for a 16-year old girl to make when she has no other family or income.

Declan: Was electrocuted (see "Donna") whilst chasing a cat that went underneath a house. In keeping with the laws of the Erinsborough universe, if you do anything slightly outside the norm (which is limited to going to school, going to Charlie's for coffee, going to Harold's for a sandwich, going next door to annoy people), you will get hurt. I expect he'll make a full recovery though, as he lies in hospital for a week, surrounded by machines that go 'ping.' A little while ago he lost his AFL contract by being late to training because he was looking after his preggers girlfriend (see "Bridget," below). He doesn't seem too upset at having his lifelong dream quashed, but since an AFL career has only been his lifelong dream since the beginning of the year, I think he's over it. What will our Declan turn his hand to next? I can't wait to find out. I can, actually.

Bridget: Still pregnant and is now yelling at people for "letting Declan get electrocuted." Hormones, man. They're making her crazy. Didge used to be cool. Now she's fairly annoying. I'm not entirely sure what her life consists of now that she was kicked out of school for being pregnant - what does she do all day? Sit on the couch with a pack of Tim Tams in her PJ's? That would be sweet. I can't wait to get preggers.

Ringo: I've missed an awful lot of episodes lately, but I think he had something to do with the Erinsborough AFL superstar (to encourage stereotypes, being a professional athlete automatically turns you into a criminal) and got into some trouble. Ringers had to take the fall for the superstar crashing his car into a lightpole or something. He may have grassed on him and they both had their contracts ripped up. I think they both learnt a valuable lesson about honesty that day, and I think Ringo may have put on his 'whiny little girl' face for a few seconds. Personally, I would have been really dakked off and punched someone, or kicked a pole or headbutted my car or something.

Libby: No idea, I think she was going to quit being a teacher or something so she can look after her ugly child. I can't remember, I'm usually drunk by 6:30. Not drunk enough to make Libby hot though.

Dan: Dan's application to become headmaster of Erinsborough High was accepted... on the proviso that the school's play kicks arse. Worst storyline ever, bar none. Bar NONE. Forget academic prowess, it's all about putting on a good production of Armadeus or whatever they're doing. Of course, the entire school curriculum has been thrown out the window so everyone and their goat (my goat is called Libby) can concentrate on making a toga and "acting." I can see a successful show being made, but with some hiccups along the way.

Toadie: His dog died, and that took about four episodes to cover. I barely even knew he had a dog, but the whole street turned out to say their goodbyes. Fuck, I don't remember any human characters having this much grief poured over them when they died. I think he also single-handedly took down Erinsborough's Underbelly character who was released from prison after serving 20 minutes for attempted murder, kidnapping, extortion and sexual assuault. Apparently he's also writing the script for the school play. For the only lawyer in the most troubled place in the world, he sure does have a lot of free time.

Elle: Has shacked up with Lucas and kicked her dad out of her house. As you do. Elle's life now revolves around picking up "hot scoops" for the Erinsborough News by hanging around the coffee shop and listening to gossip. She's pissing me off a lot lately. Not that she was ever really that cool anyway.

Lucas: Lucas, you used to be cool. Used to be cool. That's all I'm saying.

Steve: Isn't doing much, I don't think. At least, nothing that's really interested me.

Miranda: See "Steve."

Steph: Steph may have died, I haven't seen her for a while. Not that anyone in Ramsay Street would care; I mean, she's not a family pet or anything. If she is still alive, she's probably organising some sort of charity gig, running a bar and looking really old. Like, really old. Older than Susan. Gross. She also has to find a new housemate and bartender, since Ty has fucked off to England at the drop of a hat. Still, it shouldn't be too hard finding someone who can pour an orange juice. Seriously, does anyone in Erinsborough drink anything that isn't derived from citrus? It's not even fucking freshly squeezed. I wouldn't pay for bottled juice in a bar, I'm sorry. But then, I wouldn't pay for juice in a bar anyway. What a wasted drinking opportunity.

Declan's mum: I can't remember Dec's mum's name. I think it's fairly common though. Anyway, Mrs Dec Is having "those" kinds of thoughts about Paul. But then, haven't we all had them at some stage? The amount of coffee that Mrs Dec goes through is quite astounding; she is only ever seen at Charlie's with a cuppa, or at Harold's with a mug, and then at home sipping at something. She might develop heart problems soon, or at the very least have some sort of intervention when she realises that her coffee addiction is costing her over $4,000 a day.

Paul: After resucitating Declan, seems to have lost his personality and is now what's normally known as "a nice guy." I preferred it when Paul went out whoring and picked up sluts even though he's only got one leg. It gave me hope. You know, in case I ever lost my leg. Paul is currently in danger of developing "Neighbours fever" which attacks characters with a personality and sucks them of life until they are faceless, meaningless blobs on a screen that look and act like every other bastard on the show. Don't do it, Paulie. We love you because you're different.

Token asian girl: I have no idea when she popped into the Ramsay St universe, but apparently she's a Korean exchange student. Of course she is. No-one at Erinsborough High has ever thought about studying anything to do with Korea, so it's a bit of a mystery as to why she'd be sent there to start with. Who is she exchanging with? I think she's living at Karl and Susan's place; she was sitting at their house using their internet to listen to the radio instead of, you know, listening to a radio, and no-one seemed to mind this Asian stranger. Does that mean that one of the Kennedy-Kinski-Kennedy kids has been/will be exchanged? I don't know, and it's hurting my head. Tokie was also given the lead role in the high school play, even though I'm assuming she's in Australia, you know, to learn English, and not to become the major player in a Greek drama that will jeopardise someone's career. But she pulled out of the play and gave the role to Donna who now gets to snog Zeke and Tokie is all upset about is because she like totally like loves him. Like totally.


I haven't really missed that much at all, have I? Fuck I'm awesome. But not as awesome as Neighbours.

Mister Evil Dinner

The other night, I was out at dinner with Dr Phil, and a guy at the table next to ours had a massive heart attack. His wife started screaming, "Is anyone here a doctor?" Everyone at the restaurant looked at Dr Phil, but he kept on eating his carbonara. Eventually, I stood up and said, "Yes, my friend here is a doctor." And Dr Phil whispered to me, "Come on, man, you know I'm not a real doctor, I'm a television therapist." So I said, "Just fucking do something, you useless fat fuck." So Dr Phil got up and went over to the old bloke (who was kind of turning blue) and asked him, "What is the real problem here?" And the guy was all like, "Uuuh... my heart... uuuh." Then Dr Phil said, "How does this make you feel?" The guy kind of stopped his convulsions and didn't talk or move. So Dr Phil asked his wife, "Do you think his silence says more than words ever could?" Then he took a bread roll off the dead guy's table, took a bite and went back to his pasta. Dr Phil's a bastard, man. And also, that guy's wife was cheating on him.

Foooooooooooty tips from Frank

Due to popular demand, this photo of John Hopoate graces our computers once again.

To be frank (you can still be whoever you are), I can’t remember what happened last weekend. Something about some football matches going on. I’m pretty sure I was flawless (as always) in my evaluation of each team. Let’s roll on to Round whatever-we’re-up-to.

Eels vs Cowboys
My god the Eels are terrible. My god. Dear me. Holy shit. Terrible. Fuck. Seriously, fuck. Shit. Cowboys by at least 18.

Manly vs Storm
Last year’s grand final replay should prove about as interesting as last year’s grand final; the only difference will be that neither team has it in them to score a single point, let alone 40. I’ll tip Manly at home, but I think the real winner will be those who choose not to watch this train wreck.

Titans vs Rabbits
It's the CLASH OF THE TITANS... and the Rabbitohs. Let me see… my Magic 8-Ball says "ask again later." Fuck it, I don’t have time for this shit, I’ll just tip the Bunnies.

Sharks vs Roosters
This is hardly fair, pitting teams of spastics against each other just for our entertainment. I’m going to tip the Sharks to get up, but only because I feel more sorry for them than I do for the chooks. The dribble factor in this game will be higher than the scoreline.

Knights vs Broncos
Apparently the Broncles went alright last week. That’s good enough for me. Brissy by a dozen.

Raiders vs Panthers
Go you Raiders! Last week’s convincing 30-20 loss has me sold that they’ll be more than capable of mixing it with the Panther boys. Raiders by 7. Fuck I love field goals.

Dragons vs Warriors
The Warriors should have won last week. If only Stacey Jones could kick straight, huh? Idiot. They’ll go one better this week and wipe the St Georgians off the park. Bet your cow on it. Moo.

Bulldogs vs Tigers
This is a tricky one. I hate the Dogs more than I hate the Tigers, but the Dogs are better than the Tigers. Ah fuck it. Dogs.

This guy might not have completely thought out the consequences of taking a mark

Kangaroos vs Magpies
Because I really like pies, I am going to tip Collingwood. Like, the pies you get from a bakery, not magpies. No one like magpies; they suck. I'm still scared of them. I'm not scared of pies though. Mmmm pies.

Hawks vs Blues
Are these guys seriously playing each other? Seriously? Seriously? You’re serious? I don’t know anything about either of them, and after three weeks of doing tips, I’ve kind of run out of things to say. Hawks to win.

Eagles vs Dockers
You can’t go past the weagles. There’s a funny story involving me and a wedge-tailed eagle from the Adelaide zoo when I was about 4 years old and it almost ate me. Seriously. Ask my mum. And even though I am fully aware than the W in weagles doesn’t stand for Wedge-tailed, I'm still tipping them.

Lions vs Bombers
Hmmm. This one could be a cracker of a game. But then, since it’s AFL, it’ll probably be a total snoozefest. Don’t mind me if I stab at my tipping sheet with a bloody finger (it’s not my blood… or my finger) and land on the Lions.

Power vs Crows
You can’t beat the Crows. Well, you can, and many have this year already. But the Powers won’t be adding to that list this weekend. No siree. The lads from Ladelaide to kick further and catch better than the dorks from Port (yes, I do know that they’re both in Adelaide, I just didn't think this one through very well).

Swans vs Tigers
Did the Swans win last week? Anyone? Marv? You don’t know either? Why do I keep you around? Marv – will they win this week? Yes? Ok buddy, but if you’re wrong, we can no longer be friends. Swannies by about ninety eight goals.

Demons vs Cats
Wait wait wait wait wait. Someone told me that the Cats were good. I think. Or was it some other team? Oh fuck, I don’t know. I’m so confused. I’ll tip the Cats, but only because I like cats, and demons haven't been taken seriously since the middle ages. Cats are always serious. Meow. Why did Geelong pick a cat to be their mascot? There are a lot more fear-inducing animals around. Like, a bear could rip your face off or something. A cat can breathe on you in the morning with fish breath. Not that scary.

Bulldogs vs Saints
Thank fuck I’m at the end of this week’s tipping schedule. I’m pretty sure I’ve got all of my St Kilda tips right thus far (I’m not going to look it up; some facts are better left unproven), so I’ll carry on God’s work and tip the angels. Go you good things. Kick the ol’ Sherrin around like you own it, boys. Woot.

Welcome to my bedroom

Every so often, I find myself going through bouts of insomnia. Normally I just let it ride and wander through life in a half-daze (not too many people notice the difference) until whatever chemicals are in my body (alcohol) work their magic and life resumes as normal. I am in such a bout at the moment, and it's been going on for about 5 months now. That's almost half a year, in case your maths isn't quite up to scratch. If I make it to the full 6 months, I am totally baking a cake and buying some flowers. If I get to a year (without killing myself or someone else), I will take myself out for a fancy meal and (maybe) slip an engagement ring into my own champagne. But I'm getting ahead of myself; I don't want to jinx it!!!!11

Seriously though, I sought out some advice recently as to why I might be lying awake all fucking night. My friend (ok, so it was some random person posting on an online forum) said that I should analyse my sleeping problems more closely. Foolishly, I decided to do this at 3am rather than in the afternoon. I concluded that I am awake at 3am because I am analysing the reasons why I am awake at 3am. I decided to quit analysing for the night, assuming that if I just slept on it, things would make more sense in the morning. Of course, I couldn't get to sleep and my problems went unsolved.

One night I tried watching a documentary about insomnia because it is supposed to be good for helping people sleep; unfortunately the volume was too loud and it kept me up.

It makes sense to say that if you do something for long enough, you'll become good at it (Ricky Ponting is the exception rather than the rule). However, after 29 years of trying to sleep, I'm still struggling. Normally I just give up on things if I'm no good at them, but sleep is one of those things that I'm going to knuckle out and do properly. I mean, there are still some issues that haunt me; for example, I still don't know whether I prefer to have two pillows or one. Sometimes I don't have any. I am also still not sure about where I should put my arms while I'm asleep. Do I lie on them? Do I place them out in front of me? I have no idea. Lying on your arms can be fun when you realise you've cut off the circulation and you can't move them, and all day long you feel really weird and mushy.

There's also a theory that goes along the lines of "the best way to fall asleep is to actually try and keep yourself awake." I'm up for anything, so the other night I decided to try it. I did whatever it took to stay awake - I put on some music, ordered a pizza and invited some friends over. I didn't sleep.

Apparently there is no better way of falling asleep than in the arms of a beautiful woman. So I tried it, and it worked, briefly, until the beautiful woman asked me what I was doing in her bed. Her husband wasn't particularly happy, either. And for the record, she had three pillows. I have no idea how that works.

I went to the doctor last week as a last resort (fuck you, internet, for your useless suggestions and bullshit theories). I pleaded with him to give me some advice, or some pills, or a new mattress; but he refused and said I should just exercise more. Of course, I followed his advice but found it even harder to sleep whilst running on a treadmill. I do have a nice arse now though.

Blah blah blah footy whatever tips breakfast

Don't blame me, this is the first picture that came up when I typed "AFL Rugby League" into Google Images

We're getting into that part of the season where the contenders start to separate from the pretenders - although I'm obviously struggling to pick which ones are just pretending to contend, or contending the pretenders championship. It's a tough life.

Broncos vs Eels
There's a massive eel at the Star City Casino; it's in one of those giant round tanks between the slots and the tables. It's pretty awesome - you can see its body winding through the rocks and caves for pretty much the length and height of the tank. It has grown to such a size that it really can't move too much anymore, and you can tell it really wants to hit the blackjack tables. This kind of sums up the Parramatta side this year - big, fat, stuck and desperate to escape. Broncos by a squillion.

Rabbitohs vs Sharks
Let me see... form guide... form guide. Ah here we go. Let's see... "Sharks suck, don't pick them, ever." Sold. Bunnies by a dozen.

Roosters vs Dragons
Here is a poem entitled "Two Clubs That I Hate"
I hate the Roosters
and I hate St George

I hope they are both eaten by large spiders
and those spiders are sucked into a vacuum cleaner
which is then crushed by a meteorite
that is made up of dinosaurs who eat smashed pieces
of Hoovers for breakfast.

I hate St George
and I hate the Roosters.

Saints by 10.

Storm vs Warriors
Well... aren't you just a bunch of underachievers down in Melbourneland? If I were to take this tipping thing seriously, I'd have to say that the addition of Brett Finch could actually boost the Storm (I know, how weird is it to say that?) but the Warriors are fighting hard and showing a bit of pride. And to me, pride goes a long way. Finchy doesn't. Storm to be up at the half, and down at the siren. Warriors by 8.

Cowboys vs Manly
Manly can't win without Brett Stewart, who is out with a "knee injury" for the next 3 months or something. Dark times ahead for the Eagles de la Mer. The Cowboys are starting to show faint signs of life, but you can't really gauge how well anyone is going just because they beat the Sharks last week. Still... Cowboys to lift this week and Manly will resume their struggles.

Raiders vs Bulldogs
The Raiders are my boys. Everyone knows that. They're like a spazzy little 10-year old playing his first game of soccer; not entirely co-ordinated or pretty to watch, but you admire him for "giving it a go." And while your dreams of your kid being an international sports star are dashed, you can't help but encourage him and love him all the same. The Bulldogs are like crack-addicted howler monkeys with several assault charges hanging over their heads. You hate them, but also feel sorry for them; maybe if they were brought up better, things would be different. Raiders by 4.

Tigers vs Knights
Well well well well well, said the narcissistic stuttering well. The surprise packages of the NRL square off in what I reckon will be the game of the round. You heard it here first. To be honest, I can't decide. Flip a coin for this puppy. My coin says heads.

Panthers vs Titans
It's the CLASH OF THE TITANS... and the Panthers. The Panthers got done by the Broncs last week, and the Tits just snuck home against the under 10 spazzies, so this game will probably be fairly dreadful. I'll tip the Titans without any confidence and with a very dismissive shrug of the shoulders.

And this is what happened when I typed in "Rugby League AFL." Life is funny.

Power vs Saints
I learnt that the Power's mascot is a lightning bolt, to symbolise electricity and, well, power. That's a bit shit. Why that and not the Port Sewerage or Port Natural Gas? I reckon they should start over and be called the Port Angry Skulls of Pestilence and Fire. At least we know what they look like. St Kilda to get up again this week.

Bombers vs Pies
I also learnt last week (it was an educational weekend of AFL for me, actually) that the Bombers suck. And even though everyone hates Collingwood, they're apparently quite good. So tip them; good will always beat sucky, regardless of popularity.

Hawks vs Eagles
Oooh a tough bird fight. Let's be honest, if the Swans were involved here, it wouldn't even raise an eyebrow, except for RSPCA people who don't want a swan to be absolutely torn apart by two birds of prey. I got the Weagles right last week, so I'm gonna let that bet ride.

Kangaroos vs Tigers
For some reason, all the recent news stories mention something about how bad the Tigers are going. In between photo shoots with his fucking dog, Barack Obama held a press conference to air his grievances about the shittiness of the black-and-golds. He didn't mention anything about the Roos though, so with the blessing of Mr President and his dog, I say the Kangas will get up. I don't even know (or particularly care) where the Kangaroos' team is from. Melbourne, probably.

Dockers vs Swans
According to news.com.au, the Dockers players are all in trouble for sneaking around in KKK outfits. This does not bode well for them. They should have been dressed as pirates or something more nautical. And because my mate goes for the Swans, I'm going to paint a red V on a white t-shirt and support them until something better comes on TV. Shouldn't take long.

Cats vs Lions
Last week, the Cats won and the Lions lost. You can't argue with statistics. Cats by a goal and a behind and possibly some more.

Bulldogs vs Blues
I got the Blues. I got the Blues. I got those "i-forgot-to-take-the-mince-out-of-the-freezer-this-morning-so-i'll-have-to-cook-up-something-else-for-dinner-but-i-really-kind-of-felt-like-having-some-spaghetti-bolognaise but-now-i'll-have-to-reheat-some-other-shit-that's-in-my-fridge-even-though-it's-probably-past-its-use-by-date" kind of blues.

I don't have a bulldog. I got the Blues.

Demons vs Crows
There really are a lot of birds flapping around in the AFL comp, aren't there? It seems that the most successful teams are either a bird, a cat or an enigma. I have no idea how the Demons have lasted so long - they have a cool mascot that doesn't fit in anywhere. I'm surprised they're not picked on more. $5 on the Crows.

Tip tip tip, sip sip sip. Let's kick off and get that ball bouncing in the centre square and run into the wind from the Paddington end.

Don't dry for me, Argentina

Just quietly, if anyone pours me a beer like this, you'll be tasting crowbar for a week.

To celebrate the holiday of Day Ending in Y, I went down to the pub with some mates for a quick beer. Being in the festive spirit, I decided that I would get the first shout. I sidled up to the bar with the other party-goers partaking in "Day Ending in Y" shenanigans to order my drinks. I looked at the beer options that were available: Premium Dry. Super Dry. Extra Dry.

How dry do people need their beers? Stupendously Dry? Really Really Dry? Or what if you didn't want it to be too dry - would you have a schooner of A Little Dry or Sorta Dry? Where's Fairly Dry and Could Be Dryer? What does Not Dry At All taste like? Will I die without drinking the goodness of A Little Bit Dry But Not So Bad That You Need A Glass Of Water?

How long will it be until we're ordering pints of sand? And will there be different Dry factors of sand? Will I order a few pints of Sand Mega Dry? And will Sand Mega be any different to Sand Ultra Dry?

Anyway... which Dry can claim to be the Dryest?

Some dictionary somewhere defines 'dry' as "free from liquid or moisture; lacking natural or normal moisture or depleted of water; or no longer wet; such as 'dry land'; 'dry clothes'; 'a dry climate.'"

At first glance, these beers appear to fly in the face of this definition, as they seemed to be entirely made up of liquid. Perhaps a closer inspection is required. Upon tipping each beer onto the floor, it became apparent that they were quite wet indeed.

Note: I should do these sorts of experiments outside, or at least not over my carpet.

No points are awarded to any of these beers for dryness, but one point goes to the towel which I used to mop it up with.
Score after round 1:

Super - 0

Extra - 0

Premium - 0

Towel - 1

The next part of my magic dictionary says, "humorously sarcastic or mocking; 'dry humor"; 'an ironic remark often conveys an intended meaning obliquely'; 'an ironic novel'; 'an ironical smile'; 'with a wry Scottish wit.'" I spent an hour watching Two and a Half Men and registered its humour level. I then spent an hour watching each beer and continued my vigilant note taking. It is as follows: Nothing happened.

It seems there was no irony to be found, and no sarcastic tones were included with my beer. Just in case, I also watched my towel for a while. I guess it was entertaining, but in no way was it humorous, and even less Scottish.
Score after round 2:

Super - 0

Extra - 0

Premium - 0

Towel - 1

Strangely, the next dictionary definition was "not producing milk; 'a dry cow.'" I've had milk before, and it's quite different to beer. For this experiment, I attempted to milk a beer, with no success. Each beer receives one point for being as "dry as a dry cow." Well done, beers. I then squeezed out my towel, and found that it was producing beer that it had soaked from my carpet. Nice work, towel. However, the definition definitely asks for milk. So another point to the towel.
Score after round 3:

Super - 1

Extra - 1

Premium - 1

Towel - 2

The next definition: "lacking interest or stimulation; dull and lifeless."
For this experiment, I decided to drink the beer. The first beer (Super Dry) was very nice on the tastebuds, and I guess it was interesting - there were some ingredients written on the beer label, so that kept me occupied for a minute. 5 cents refund for recycling it in South Australia. Very interesting.

After it was finished, I was stimulated to drink the Extra Dry. Again, some literature was included on the bottle; a point scored there. 5 cents back in SA as well. I should move there; I'd be rich.

After I had drank the Extra Dry, I was stimulated to keep drinking.

The Premium Dry was also quite interesting. There may have been something written on the lid, but my eyes were a bit foggy, so I'm not entirely sure. 5 cents back if you're in South Aus. That's fucking it, I'm moving there. Don't try and stop me. After I had finished the Premium Dry, I was stimulated to wrap the towel around my shoulders and 'fly' around my house. Now THAT was interesting. Then I was stimulated to fall asleep. Points all round!
Score after round 4:

Super - 2

Extra - 2

Premium - 2

Towel - 3

Conclusion:

After four rounds, it is safe to say that each beer is wetter than it is dry, with no discernible dryness-level difference between them, with few (if any) cow qualities. A towel seems to be a lot more dry. For your next pub engagement, I recommend asking for a pint of towel if you're after something dry. Otherwise, enjoy your beer the way it was intended - wet.

Mister Evil Tipping Bripping

Kablammo! We're into Round 5 or something. Awesome. Only another 17 weeks of this shit to go! Woot.

Panthers vs Broncos
Can anyone tell me how these teams are going? No? No-one? Oh. Wait, what was that? Sorry? You can't tell me? You don't know either? Hmm. Well, thanks anyway. If I go for Broncos, who reckons I'm right? Two..three...four.. Marv, is your hand up? No? Yes? It is? Ok. How about the Panthers? ...three, four... five... Marv, you can't vote for both. Broncos or Panthers, mate? You don't know? Neither do I. Broncos.

Titans vs Raiders
It's the CLASH OF THE TITANS... and the Raiders. I washed my Raiders jersey last night (it's a 1994 special) and woke up this morning looking good and feeling good. Canberra to cause an upset and topple the dirty cheating rats that are the Titans.

Dragons vs Knights
You couldn't ask for a better match-up, could you? Dragons and Knights, fighting each other just like they used to in the olden days. Sorry, Sir Lancelot, but I think the dragons will win this time. Poor Knights and their damsels in distress.

Rabbitohs vs Manly
Damn Rabbitohs losing last week. Damn you Brett Stewart for scoring three tries when I said you'd do nothing. Damn you both to hell. My heart says Bunnies and my head says Manly. Somewhere in the middle (just above my Adam's apple), it's saying Tigers. Fucking stupid neck. What the hell would you know? Manly to win, but I'm not confident...

Warriors vs Roosters
Haaaate the Roosters. Haaaaaaaaaate them. Haaaaate them with the Passion of the Christ. Haaaate haaaate haaaaate haaaaaate haaaaaate. Fuck I haaaaaate them. So much. Sooooo so so so sooooooo much. Warriors to win, just because I don't haaaaaaaaaaate them.

Sharks vs Cowboys
If this was a real contest, the Cowboy would have to lassoo the shark, leap onto its back from a runaway train (filled with gold and dynamite) and tame that puppy. Since that would be more entertaining in the long-run than just watching a shark chew on a cowboy for a while, I'll tip the boys from North Queensland. Yeehaa.

Eels vs Bulldogs
For this one, I shall use my psychic powers and talk to both of them. Bulldog - woof woof woof woof woof. Ruff ruff ruff. Very interesting. Thank you. Eel - ... ... ... Well, because eels can't work out if they're snakes or fish, they don't have much to say. So the winner will be the bulldogs, which are way more dog than they are bull.

Tigers vs Storm
The Storm just signed Brett Finch, which makes me want to tip the Tigers. But the Tigers lost last week, which makes me want to tip the Storm. But the Tigers bounce back, and will bounce back twice as hard after two losses. Ah fuck it, Storm to win.

I have no idea about AFL, but I made a drunken promise to do an AFL footy tipping thing. So here we go.

Kick, drop, handball, drop, behind, point, kick, tackle, penalty, kick, handball, drop, penalty, kick, drop, behind.

Lions vs Magpies
From what I know about AFL, the Lions are from Brisbane and the Magpies are from Collingwood. I'm pretty sure there are more maggies in Collingwood than there are lions in Brisneyland, so I'll tip the pies. I don't even know where Collingwood is, to be honest. Can anyone tell me what I should look for if I were to visit? Like, is there a theme park or a water slide or a nice bakery or something?

Hawks vs Power
I've never been a wholehearted supporter of teams that have a non-physical mascot. What represents the Power, seriously? I'll go Hawks, cause at least I know what they fucking look like.

Swans vs Blues
The Blues? Is their mascot a Smurf? A blue whale? The sky? Someone who's feeling a bit down? A black guy with a saxophone? Honestly. Swans are weird when they walk on land, but I reckon they can beat Blue Man Group. Apparently they can bite hard enough to break your arm. Swans, that is, not Blue Man Group.

Saints vs Dockers
Hm. AFL teams hate having something tangible, don't they? A docker sounds like a pair of pants that you'd wear to a Navy parade. I just looked up the Dockers on the Wiki and discovered that their fans worship an anchor, so I was pretty close. But I think that if the Saints truly have the power of God on their side, they should beat a bunch of sea-faring scurvy dogs.

Crows vs Cats
Let's look at this sensibly - a crow will hack at the entrails of a dead animal and make that annoying "graaa graaaaa graaaaaaaaaaaaah" sound. A cat will sleep. Since this sport is about picking at entrails, the animal deemed most awake should win. Go the mighty Crows. Graa.

Kangaroos vs Bombers
When I was four years old, I had a Bombers doona cover. I don't know of anyone with a Kangaroos doona cover, and I probably wouldn't associate myself with them if they did. Bombers by either 3 goals or 18 behinds.

Tigers vs Demons
I wonder if the Tigers players all turn up to the game and say, "Hey Tiger!" to each other? I know I would, and that is why I am tipping them in this game.

Eagles vs Bulldogs
I think the Eagles are the West Coast Eagles, yeah? And the Bulldogs... fuck. I have no idea. Wait, where's my Wiki? Ok, that took way longer than it should have. I had to look up a page on actual bulldogs, then two pages on the Canterbury Bulldogs in which I saw a photo of Brett Kimorley, and then a page on the noble sport of British Bulldog. However, upon discovering the AFL Bulldogs' page, the first paragraph tells me that they are one of the least successful teams in the history of the AFL. So fuck you, Doggies. I'm tipping the Weagles.

Sip it up, or tip it out!

i mean no disrespect

Easter is a sensual time of the year, as we plonk ourselves down to plates of seafood and eat chocolate like it’s going out of style. Throw in a glass of your choice of alcohol and all of a sudden, love is in the air. It can also help when someone has had about twenty-seven drinks too many and requires a shower and then forgets to put on pants, but hey, these things will happen.

Ahem.

People have said that Easter has become way too commercial to the point of forgetting the real reason behind it. And so, dear readers, welcome to Mister Evil Breakfast’s Guide To The Real Story Behind Easter (MEBGTTRSBE)…

Jesus was throwing a going-away party and had invited a few mates around. The invitation clearly stated that Jesus would provide nibblies and drinks. He ran out of time to get some meat, so he sent a text to Judas saying 'dude cn u pls grab sum snags n steaks n i will pay u bak asap! thx champ!' Judas himself was running a bit late, and thought that he’d be able to duck into the butcher near Jesus’ place to grab some food. But when the butcher handed over the bags of meat, all Judas had was his bank card.
“Sorry tiger,” said the butcher. “Cash only.”
“Is there an ATM around here?” Judas asked.
“There’s one in the servo over the road.”
So Judas headed over to the servo, willing to pay the $2 surcharge that was incurred on using an ATM that wasn’t designated to his particular bank, but was turned down.
“Fraid not,” said the servo attendant. “It’s out of order.”
So Judas went to the barbecue without any meat, hence the tradition of scoffing down things without legs on Good Friday.

At the party, people had been getting stuck into Jesus’ home-brew for a while and were a bit pissy. “Juuuudas! Where’s my sausage?!” Jesus asked.
“Sorry Jeebus, I didn’t have any cash and the butcher doesn’t do EFT.”
“Ah that’s cool, I’ve got some fish in the freezer, and there’s some snacky bits here.”

A few hours later, everyone was getting fairly smashed, when suddenly Jesus remembered that he had some chocolate in the kitchen. It actually belonged to Robert, Jesus’ housemate, but Rob had eaten the last bowl of Jesus’ Fruit Loops, so he felt that he could get away with snaffling a bit off his housemate’s shelf in the cupboard. So he grabbed the family-sized block of Cadbury’s and chucked it to Peter.
“Where’d this come from?” Peter asked as he cracked a couple of squares off and passed the chocolate to the left hand side.
Through his mouthful of chocolate, Jesus mumbled, “Rabbit.” Everyone laughed.
“Yeah, there’s a big fuck-off rabbit who gives chocolate to people!” said Simon. "That's fucking tops!"

A bit later, Mathew turned up.
“Where’ve you been, man?” Jesus asked. “And did you bring us some food?”
“I’ve been at work, fucktard!” said Mathew, pointing to his Baker’s Delight uniform. “I brought you some fucking buns,” and he threw a bag of bread at Jesus.
“Awesome, thanks!” he embraced his friend in a (very manly) hug. “Gross, dude. You stink!”
“Yeah well you fucking stand in a bakery for eleven fucking hours and see how you fucking smell!”
“Dude!” called James. “You're hot and cross. Just have a bun and relax.”

I think that would have been a pretty good party. I’m also fairly certain that Jesus had a three-day hangover afterwards.

Mister Tipster Evilster Breakfaster

Rugby League fights are settled by nose wars, rather than fisticuffs

Well, last week's drinking and tipping experiment didn't really work (but it was fun). It was good to see the Mighty Bloody Raiders break the drought to bring up their first win of the season, and it also marked the first week of the NRL in recent years that no-one had any new rape allegations brought upon them. So well done everyone.

Eels vs Dragons
Ooooh this will be a tough one to call, especially considering I don't care. Parra's halfback Brett "Junior Rat" Finch jumped ship yesterday, or was pushed, or lost his jumper, or got a job at K-Mart or something... in any case, he's not playing for the FishySnakes anymore, which has left punters all over Australia wondering whether that's a good thing or not. This game will go down to the wire, and will be won and lost in the scrum. Who am I kidding? St George to win, even though I hate them.

Sharks vs Raiders
Seriously, the only team between the Raiders and premiership glory now are the Eels, Dragons, Cowboys, Titans, Storm, Panthers, Knights, Warriors, Manly, the Tigers, Bulldogs and Souths. See who's not in there? Yeah, the Sharks. Wait, let me double check that. Yep, the Sharks. Easy win to Canberra and the Raiders will continue their dominance. Tonguey to bag a double.

Cowboys vs Titans
It's the CLASH OF THE TITANS... and the Cowboys. The Cowboys did their very best to lose last week against the Raiders, and I'd be lying if I said I had any interest in anything that the Titans are doing, so I'll tip the Cowboys, just because I like the cut of their gib.

Storm vs Panthers
Hmm. This is one of those ones where the Storm should have no trouble in wrapping up these kitty cats and posting them to Bosnia, but it will probably turn out a whole lot harder than they thought. Panthers could easily spark an upset here. But the Storm could just as easily win it in a trot. Eh. This one's up to you, but I'm tipping the Storm. I also think their jersey is quite pretty.

Knights vs Warriors
Newcastle seem to be the quiet achievers of the NRL in the early rounds. But as we all know, quiet achievers all turn into little smart-arsed pricks and deserve their comeuppance. And that comeuppance will be served by the Warriors, with a side of calamari and chilli mayo sauce. Nice.

Manly vs Tigers
Come on Manly, I've tipped you all freakin year, except for the other week when I did but I didn't mean to (my gut feeling was right; I just thought I'd had too much cheese). The Tigers have been up and down lately - last week they were down; I'm tipping them to be up again this week. Manly will welcome back Brett Stewart fresh from prison, but I don't think he'll be the catalyst that Manly are desperate for. Tiges to win.

Bulldogs vs Rabbitohs
Since it's Easter, the Bunnies will have the upperhand in this game. Souths have been fairly impressive this year - which is evident by them being on top of the ladder. The Bulldogs have been... well... I have no idea. To be honest, I didn't even realise that they were still playing. This game will probably suck. Souths by a trillion and one.

Don't forget to put your tips in... and don't forget to get some sips in. Not necessarily in that order.

Oh look, the most glorious rainbow ever!

It's an oldie but a goodie

Dum dum dum dum dummmmmm dumDUM!

Good evening universe, I am Mister Evil Breakfast and this is the news that's breaking across Australia, the world and beyond.

I promised you news, sport and weather a few weeks ago or something, so here you go. I am not wearing pants.

Tonight's top story is all the way from Cowabunga, Japan, where boffins have invented underpants that don't need to be washed. They are odour-free and moisture absorbent; they kill bacteria and still manage to keep your testicles from bouncing around too much. These Wonderpants are also flame resistant in case you can't resist lighting a fart and are also static free, so... they won't stick to the walls of your dryer, I guess. I never found that too much of a problem, myself. In fact, I quite like the static buzz of putting on a fresh pair of jocks straight out of the dryer, but maybe that's just me. Anyway, these techno tighty-whities are being trialled on the International Space Station, which for all of its scientific glory and telescopes and satellite radar things, doesn't have a washing machine. I guess that means my house is more awesome than being in space.

Breaking news: Swimmer Nick D'arcy won't be going to jail. Also, this just in - man does not buy shirt. Let's stick to reporting things that actually DO happen, eh lads?

A great new invention has just been released - a bucket. Dunk your new-born into this "tummy tub" and recreate the womb for your little bundle of joy. What the fuck? For the past bazillion years, people have hung out in the uterus for a while and then decided that enough was enough & that it's probably time to get out see the world, you know, stretch the legs and such. I don't see what the big deal with the womb was anyway - it was relaxing sure, but it started getting very touristy and it lost its olde worlde charm as time went on. Sitting in a fake womb by hanging out in a bucket of warm water (and pee, probably) would be like trying to recreate your trip to Spain by putting ice cubes in your Big Red Tomato Soup. Pass the sangria, por favor!

A man was lucky to walk/run away from a fairly decent bingle involving a Merc and a beer truck at 4:30am. The owner of the car reported it stolen minutes after the accident... nice work, pelican. There's nothing dodgy about a 4:30am phone call to the cops explaining that you were just about to head over to your mate's place to watch the sun rise when lo-and-behold, some vagabond has thieved your motor vehicle, is there? Especially when it was written off about seven seconds beforehand. "Police are investigating whether alcohol was a factor in the crash." The only people driving at that time are piss-heads, car thieves, piss-head car thieves and bakers. This guy was at least three of the above, even if it was his own car that he nicked. Tool.

Apparently no beer was harmed. Thank Christ (thank you) (You’re welcome).

In entertainment - there's big news surrounding one of the world's hottest acts, Britney Spears, who may be coming Down Under at some stage sometime in the next 8 months. I've just checked my diary and I'm free! Thanks for being so specific, Britto. For those mad keen Spears followers, this concert will set you back at least $120 for the nosebleed section and upwards of $200 for the front row, though some lucky fans will also be able to take home a souvenir Spears baby and something shiny. The tour will be mostly razzle and partly dazzle, according to tour promoters, with the music taking a back-seat to the theatrics. Everyone's favourite 'girl-next-door' will sing just one of the 20 or so songs performed during the show, with a pre-recorded track providing the words for her to mime along to. For $200, that recording had better take me to dinner and buy me at least two drinks before the concert (and call me the next day). I could quite easily have the same concert experience if I stayed at home, listened to the CD that I downloaded for free, drank a few beers and got some ironing done. I would, of course, have saved about $185, would have a fresh shirt to wear the next day, and most importantly, not been at a Britney Spears concert.

To finance now - everything's still fucked, but Aussie PM Kevin Rudd is going about gaining popularity by giving Aussie battlers (aka anyone who earns less than $100K a year) a bit of extra dosh for just being tops. That's why we love the leader. Apparently Australia doesn't have any money left in the piggy bank, yet Kev is writing us all IOUs which are redeemable everywhere. Despite doing economics for three years, I'm still no closer to grasping the very basics of it, which is evident by the fact that I failed two of those years and wrote "please don't fail me again" on my exam paper in the third. True story. I don't know exactly how, but this gift money is supposed to get the ol' Aussie dollar back on track, which would be a good thing. I could buy a guitar. That would be a good thing. I could buy some more corn chips. Good thing.

However... like all superheroes, Kev Rudd has his supervillain nemesis, who comes in the form of Bryan Pape. I didn't do a whole lot of research on this story, but from what I can understand, Pape is attempting to take a large stack of money to court and sue it, thus depriving everyone of their $900 "topsness payout" and would not allow me to buy a guitar. I daresay that these actions have led to Bryan officially losing all of his Facebook friends and latest reports indicate that he has changed his status to "the most hated man in the world."

I would like to add to his misery by calling him "Pape Smear."

And now for a look at sport around the world. Well, since it was Thursday yesterday, there wasn't much sport being played. So uh... carry on.

For those looking to get out and about this weekend, here's your weather forecast, proudly brought to you by a giant piss-off eggplant: there's a 50% chance of rain everywhere. There's also a 50% chance of a stegosaurus walking through your street, so keep your eyes peeled.

Yesterday's weather update thing on the news.com.au site said: "Possible shower, cloudy at first." Well fuck. Clouds before rain? They go together now? I would have been way more impressed by: "Gods angry. Zeus' rage to fill the sky. Appeased tomorrow following sacrifice."

And finally, a feel-good story to warm your nether regions.

His neighbours' houses have weathercocks on their roofs - but Roy McInnes' house just has a cock. Roy the Pom (where else could he be from with a name like Roy?) has painted an 18 metre wang on his parent's roof so people can see it on Google Earth. There's nothing else to really say about this, except that it's amazing what someone can do with a ladder, a $2 million house and a tin of paint.

I hope this "ballsy" piece of art isn't "shafted" for a "schlong" time.

I'll be back with the late news if you log on again and re-read this entry at 11pm. Have a great weekend. I'm Mister Evil Breakfast... goodnight.

Dummm dum duuum dummm dumdumdumdummmmm...

mster tipping drunkfast evil shutup

Sorry Todd Carney - I didn't recognise you with your pants on

ive been briven to drink by the nRL becuse they just dont want to win for me so fars this yea4.

this wees' tips are proucly brought to you buy beerzors and flamming shotsorz of tequilabucca stuipid rugbny wuouldln't know how to winn if it came up tho them nd said 'hey man heres a win for you' and theyd say 'no thanks i pref4er to SUCK!' i culd have tipppedp better last weelk if i was DRUNk which i n now am an d will see is if it makes da ifferents. difference. shh dont telm y boss

what the fuck is goingh on here honestly so here we goo you piece of shit raiders fuckl you11! round 1234 here we gooo and its your shuout!!! 1

Broncos vs Dragons
I DON'T CARE YOU BOTH SUCK. bisbrane should Win this contest but seriously dont fucking blame me if they dot'n seriously. Who the fuck knows what's going on with these fucking teams anymore? go to hell, fucking stupiD rugby league teams. go brancos!1 woooi love yoouuuu

Roosters vs Eels
oooh look at me i'm a fucking rooster!! la de fucking dah i am an eel. what the fuck is an eel anyway is it a snake or a fucking fish? here fishy fishy and then it fucking eats you stupid snake. or it just goes hello i am a snake and everyon says oh no and then itsays don't wprry i am just a fish hahahah and peoeple say oh thats okay then itS NOT OK. be s anake if you're gona be one or be afish. at least arooster knows what it is huh? go chickens.to win mby a couple.

Panthers vs Tigers
hey kitty kitty kitty. ben marshallji is apparntly the next BIG thing even though he is quite small but probably is big enougyh. he will win. everyone else will lose.

Storm vs Titans
IT"S THE CLASCH OF THE TITANDS,,, and the Stromyou gus both suck too. but i dunno maybe yur a good bloke and we shuould hang out some more. 'would you like a drninki mr storm?' 'yes thnks mr breakfast that sound s quite loveRy' 'here y7ou go then.' 'dcheers!" drink drnnk drink. ' how bout you sir titan?! a beverage for y ou?' "no not for4 me thanks bfast i hav work tomorrow." 'BASTARD you will diE you piec hf shit"! storm by 120.

Warriors vs Rabbitohs
run rabbbit rbaabit run run run ow my head. warriors will win. kumate mulkate haka haaka slap slapsslap

Bulldogs vs Sharks
zzzzzzzzzz.
i would liky to see bnoth of thes teasms to explod e in a ball of explosion and fire and feathers. a DRAW! nah bolldogs will bproabblyably probably will win huh. yes. so tip thems. or tip the sharks adn pay to the consequencious of being a biG FAT DICKHEAD loser. stupid footty tips my wife left me. yus pleas i wuoudl dlike anothre beer heres some mnoney now go go go shhhh don"t tell my wife.

Knights vs Sea Eagles
just about enoug h of both of you2. sick of the sight of yu. get out. bot hof you get out your both fired!!11. wiat. wait wait . pehrpas i ham being too harsh on you both its not yur fault that uou are both fucking spaszmos .. you will win manly so no no no you SOHULD win soon manly seagles so you can have my tip for this WEKK only but don't 1 fucki up or i'll come looking fo you and will be expcteing some money back. manly woo yay!

Raiders vs Cowboys
bad and mean green machine. never in my LIFE have i seen such a disgracfufl performcne from a MACHINE i would take you back the manufacturer and demnad my mon2ey back if i bought such a incompetent machin e like you but you do hav a lovely colour ooh thank you it mayches my eyes NO IT DOESNT you LIAR@#$# dget your hands off me ill tell you whn ive had hnouhh to drink thank you. right so were whas i ? oh yes cowboys wil win and maybe we can then go out and eat a kebab. mmmooooooo. oi oi oi. uuuh dmnot feel so good

TIPP y tippsy tippppppp aaaarrrr. sip and tip and fuck you raiders.