Rugby Sunday and Rich Moron Rant

Clearly it's appropriate that my home club should be the Nomads as these days I never seem to play for the same team or in the same place twice running. Yesterday I was a Cobourg Saxon in a 13 aside game in Oshawa, numbers being somewhat depleted by Mother's Day. For once, it was warm and sunny and the ground was dry. I managed about forty five minutes before I picked up a minor groin strain. Not wanting it to develop into anything more serious this early in the season I packed in and got some ice on it. It's fine today.

I've often wondered what kind of people live in those giant cardboard mansions so popular in the further flung exurbs. Now I know, stupid, arrogant bastards. No surprise there! Here's the story. A few years ago, the Oshawa Vikings bought a closed and rather rundown school building and field in the village of Raglan. It was surrounded by cornfields. By dint of a great deal of volunteer work they have turned it into a very nice rugby clubhouse with a field, showers, bar etc. In the meantime, monster homes have been built on three sides and the owners are complaining about being next to the club. They get pissed off about balls going into their garden and so on. What the hell do they expect if they build a house 25m behind the goal at one end of a rugby pitch? If there's anything worse than a moron, it's a rich moron.

Farewell Hamilton and Houdini

Back from the Humane Society. Hamilton and Houdini are into Adoption and will likely find their new humans this afternoon. I'm feeling just a little bit sad.