Tonight it’s Pub Quiz night.
I’m not your average “Pub Quiz” type. In fact, it’s not even that often that I go out to the pub. (Note to self: You are clearly a sad looser who needs to get out more.) I won’t be able to answer any questions about sport, but I am a mine of useless information, which always helps with those obscure questions.
Now, first things first. Every team needs a name. And the best suggestion so far, (actually it’s the only suggestion so far) is team G-String. Following a conversation about the perils of wearing a G-String which rides up above the waistband of your trousers, a friend of mine thought it would make a good name. And as our team is constituted of two gay men and a divorcee, it seemed both comical and appropriate.
The only thing outstanding is how we intend to actually answer any of the questions. Paul is a history buff, Julian is responsible for music, I can do general obscure questions. But when it comes to sport… we have no choice. We’re going to have to cheat!
Fortunately, Team G-String has a couple of ringers lined up on Twitter. Not that I advocate cheating but, as Julian said earlier: “Of course cheating’s OK. FFS It’s a pub quiz and there’s a cash prize. And lets face it, you could do with a new handbag.” I take great umbrage at his attitude towards what I regard as a very nice handbag…!
I can hear him now in the background: “Give the handbag to the dog, and whilst you’re out buying a new one, you should get yourself something half decent to wear!” Cheeky devil!
So we’re all set to go. I have checked and double checked in an increasingly paranoid manner, that nothing is showing above the waistline of my jeans… And once I’ve dropped the kids at their Dad’s house… We’re off!
I’ll let you know how we do later!