Having gone on a Latin binge today, today people will be given Latin derivations of their names. This is cooler, I think, than the Numbers given on a Prisoner day, the Lady ---- of ---- used after reading too many Regency novels, and identifying everyone with a comedy vegitable.

Just back from winning the pub quiz again! Our team, "Yes! The bar's open!" was significantly diminished today, as not everyone could be bothered - but the core was there and that was what counted.

We're a great team, and not for a minute is that anything to do with me. I'm still waiting for my uber-obscure Doctor Who question to come up. No - our success lies in Beormundi and Inritus. Why? They study history.

Not intrinsically a great skill you say - so they can get the history questions right? So what? Wrong, my friend, very wrong. A historian has interest in wars and dates, but also of Geography and Politics too - both old and modern. Combine those questions together, and my rather dodgy film knowledge isn't so impressive. Also, they tend to ask very easy English-related questions, which make me think the quizmasters aren't in that corner of the humanities department.

What I do know is one of them is a massive Bond fan. This is because every time, there are at least two Bond related questions. This week, it was his brand of cigarettes (Chesterfields, apparently) and how many Roger Moore movies (Beormundi and I sorted out them out on the back of a beer mat - there are 7). The question setter also regards him as the best Bond ever.

I do secretly hate the Classical music questions - everyone automatically looks at me, not because I know a lot on the subject, but because I know anything at all. I still feel I have a duty to get it right, however. This week, I screwed up on who composed Carnival of the Animals (Camille Saint-Saens, which I did know I suppose, because he wrote the Swan; I guessed Debussy. I knew it was someone French); but earnt my place on the team on the music round. They ask for Composer, name and Movement name for classical pieces - this week's was Hall of the Mountain King, but I correctly got Edvard Grieg and Peer Gynt to make up the points. Also, I identified the members of Flight of the Conchords. That was my contribution.

I felt I should have got the LOTR question - how many oscars in total did it win? Well I knew ROTK had won 11, and the other two had won some: Inritus insisted FOTR had 7, which already put us on 18. In actual fact, it was only 17. Oh well...

Gemina is our scribe, and really comes into her usefullness during the music round - she's up to speed on all things modern, while my knowledge stops in about 1984. Alacrita is with English; as I already noted, however, the English questions aren't terrifically challenging - more like general knowledge. Her contribution was getting the age that Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison all died at.

Good evening. Love quizzes, especially winning them; but they're still fun anyway. It was particularly satisfying to beat the table next door, who were texting AQA for the answers.This is the third time we've done the quiz, and the third time we've placed - we won a fiver the first time, the next time we got a free pint for coming second - this time, we got both. Total prize was £13, which split between 5 came to £3 each - a profit of £2. This I have put in a pot, and it may go towards more Battles in Time cards next time I'm near Forbidden Planet. You never know...

I let Gemina have my drink - it was late, and I didn't particularly feel like anything, not even a soft drink. I stuck around for a bit after that - the guys played pool, I listened to the Pipettes which they were playing on the speakers. We were going to watch a movie, but it got late.

It's a shame, really, because the highlight of Beormundi's evening was managing to perfectly pot a pool ball, via jumping it over a pool cue laid across the table, and I think the idea was that was what it'd be remembered for. Unfortunately, about five minutes later Inritus almost took out my eye with a pool ball; so next time a ball flew off the table, Beormundi ducked, slipped on the floor, whooshed onto his back and brought down another table with him, and sending a pint glass dizzying across the room.

It was a mercy no one was injured, not even a little. As no one had been, the event was hilarious - Inritus was literally on the floor with laughter, the rest of the bar didn't seem to notice. We cleared up and quietly left. Not going to live it down. Ever.



The only other thing that deserves a mention is a scene I viewed in the Bay Lounge TV room. A large gaggle of guys and girls decended on the sofas, evidently to watch a film, and a small cabal of the girls were saying "We think we should watch The Notebook!" I tried hard not to giggle.

Now I don't know if you've heard of The Notebook, but check out IMDb and you'll discover it's a real girly girl movie, all about tragic lost love. Whenever some well meaning soul on a classic movie board complains that girls under 18 are dragging the rating down, they will always drag up The Notebook as the type of dross we vote highly for. The idea of these poor lads being forced through it was enough to make me smirk. I don't know the outcome...

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