Monbon

I saw him play often from 1961 until 1964. He was Mister Football, though, in the outer West, where I was brought up, Footscray supporters thought that title belonged to Ted Whitten. I met him at Acland Cellars in early 2006, before the start of the season. He was buying a bottle to take to Claypots. I couldn't help myself and told him how much I admired him. He paid for his wine, got to the door, turned around and said, Go Dees...

where can I watch the replay of this pre-season game?

Luke is past tense. Goodbye, have a good life. Am so sick and fed up with this . It's like a divorced man having fancy for the wife who left him for another. Buona sera, si Signore, off you go, have a good life, I hope his mum's recipes are not what he cracked them up to me. Ich habe genug. E basta. Nuff is Nuff. Arriverderci, good riddance, Tom Scully says hi...

I recall a training mishap - some sort of collision - about 2 weeks ago. Fingers crossed...

I present Monday's Most perceptive insight for the day.

Delerium Tremens, where is thine sting?

Interfere with the blood thinners; NO ASPIRIN EITHER. It's now Xarelto, before that Rat Sack, alias Warfarin. I recall reading Norm Smith's biography in about 2010. I was shocked he was 57 when he died. I mentioned this to a Melbourne supporting cobber and he pointed out that's when most blokes died in dem days, hence the pension age of 65.Then again, maybe we live longer because of all of the preservatives in KFC and Mc Donalds.

Spot on. I agree entirely.

The only sure thing about tough Drug laws is a corrupt Police Force. Not my quote, but something I agree with. And, for the record, I don't do drugs though I'd be dead without my Blood Pressure tablets, Blood Thinners, Diuretics, Zyloprim and Panadol Osteo to treat my Double Kneemonia. Then there's the Zinc, Euthenasia, Vitanmin C and B, the Thiamine, the Glucosomine and Magnesium, and the half a Prexum at night. Oh, then there's the Diltiazem. Oh, and the Sardinian Vermentino, the Coriole Sangiovese, the Cirillo Grenache and any decent Pinot Noir or Barolo I can get my hands on. Hunter Shiraz and good Cab Sav are also life savers.

Dunno about trippin, but the zombie clause might net a few...

The lesson is stay away from Kinskys.

For the perplexed, I suggest you read Maimonides, for others, I suggest you may be in need to consult Latin, Italian and Mozart's Don Giovanni as primal sources. Today I met a couple on Normanville Beach who both had Demon Tats proudly hidden on their thighs and belly buttons. They knew nill about Kinsky, Herzog, or Don Giovanni. And, just for the record, Nakszynsk is a German as Perogi. Okay?

He was hungry: and it was made of chocolate anyhow...

Per favore, please let's keep Klaus Günter Karl Nakszynsk outta this. Also Werner Herzog. Ora Nobis, instead re the mighty Demons. Okay, Nakszynsk - a fine Danziger German name, I don't think - had molto demons, ma, in Espana, don't we all have at least mille tre, not to mention my current demon of choice, Coriole Sangiovese?

His lawyers have rung the police.

I hope this isn't the proverbial Moz, but for the past two weeks I open DL with dread - then again, that's the kind of fella I am, I must be Polish or something - hoping that it ain't gonna produce catastrophic news about accidents on the Training Track. Thus far, with the usual shall we say minor mishaps, our boat is afloat. In the meantime, I also note that the injury/operation - dictation dictation dictation, three sausages went to the station - tally at Geelong follows a similar path to our post Premiership season. Without wishing the NOT Wells on someone, long may it continue. With their perpetual Home Draw advantage, they are not Cats at all, simply spoiled poodles.

On yer bike!

Oi weh. No wonder I could not fathom ANYTHING about this puzzle. I even consulted Maimonides, Guide for the Perplexed. Got nowhere.

Played cricket there on Cup Day in 1967, recall Pentridge hovering to the north, the stench of Ryan's hanging still in the air.

What's wrong with that? It just confuses not only us but the opposition...

About time someone reminded Dlanders!

Don't ya hate romper stompers!

None of them have heard of Stravinsky.

Then again, the sky was hardly blue yesterday...

red backs can kill ya...