Gather ’round, schlubs and schlubettes, it’s time for a history lesson.

Two weeks ago, yours truly was in first place. Last week? Last place. That’s right, Kasses put up the worst week in Forecasters’ history with a 4-8 stinker that had even the most rank crinkling their noses in horror.

But just seven days and one good week later, I’m back where I belong. Left side, baby — first place.

The competition was too busy yukking it up at my expense to notice me leaving them in the dust. So I’ll be dusting off that Ph.D. in Pigskinology to lecture for a while.

Badger and Donnelly are celebrating the White House’s win by shifting to the right a couple spots. What can I say? Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it. I passed ’em once, just passed ’em again. They must not be paying much attention to current events — a wounded Wisconsin won’t top Illinois.

Benjamin may look like she’s harmless, but she’s had no problem dishing it out this quarter — beware, Sweet Louie. That stare of death won’t do squat here, though. Can’t storm off in a huff in newsprint. So Benjamin’s gonna have to deal with the heat. Or at least the freezing cold of Pullman, where Wazzu never, ever loses.

Rittenberg sure does like his Little Brown Jug — almost as much as he likes to call me fat. Well, folks, this is nothing but a prime example of revisionism at its best. I’m four inches taller, just five pounds heavier. Just the facts, folks. Anyway, Hippie seems to forget that quality always beats quantity. I’ll take the Great Lakes State over the Land of 10,000 Lakes any day.

And speaking of lakes, our guest Jason seems have drowned under a tidal wave of puppy love. Letting your girl make your picks for you is sweet and all, but getting her in on the mug, too? C’mon. You can follow Bobby Williams right out the door with your pick of the smoked Spartans.

That’s all for now, class. Next time, be prepared.