I have worked out how to win trivia competitions. Pick highly intelligent people as your team mates, don’t play against cheaters, and don’t drink too much.
On Sunday, Will and I killed them at the Devonshire Arms in Kensington. Killed them. Our second half was our strongest, with a ridiculous 18 or so correct answers in a row.
Admittedly, I didn’t contribute as much as my team member, but knew all of the album covers, knew that alligators were native to America and China (the latter was dismissed by Will despite my explanation of plate tectonics), and knew that the Phantom was known as the Ghost that Walks.
Will was the one that got us across the line though. He knew about soccer deaths in the 80’s, knew that when talking about radios FM stood for Frequency Modulation, knew that Rockefeller became a millionaire in 1912 or something, knew that Black 47 was also known as the potato famine, and many more questions that I had no chance of knowing.
Playing against at least a dozen other teams, most made up of five or six players, Will and I won. The look on the punters’ faces when it was announced was fantastic – disbelief, admiration, and general pissedoffedness.
Will and I giggled as we shared our £84 pot, and made plans to return and clean up again soon.
“When you make your move, I won't hesitate, if you take too long, you could be too late, this time I'm playing to win”
Playing to Win, John Farnham
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
The perfect gift
As I am sure you are all aware, it is my birthday on the 11th of May. Just in case you are stuck for an idea for my present, let me help you out.
I would like this chandelier…
I would like this chandelier…
I love it, love it, LOVE IT!
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
London is all a Twitter
I promise this is not going to turn into a political blog, because that would just start a whole new debate at family gatherings.
However, the G20 summit is providing me with more laughs - The Guardian have reporters on the scene writing Twitter alerts about what is going on.
FYI, "Twitter is a social networking and micro-blogging service that enables its users to send and read other users' updates known as tweets. Tweets are text-based posts of up to 140 characters in length."
Some of my favourite G20 Tweets...
We have a cunning plan we shall approach the city not together but in dribs and drabs i am a drab
(Russell) Brand puts his scarf around his face to stop the media focusing on him, which only encourages them more. Is he an anarchist? Who knows
Is this the mildest placard? 'Bring on decent decision making.'
Man dresssed as Death (real name Harry) giving interview about need to regulate financial institutions
Two eggs, an apple and tangerine lobbed at police. Someone on the royal exhange clock...
Guitars are out
Whole street now occupied lots of kissing dancing wayhay
And some pink milk shake thrown, and landed in my hair - tnks. Mood unruly but not violent.
Billy bragg sings the internationale from the steps of the bank of england. "Come brothers and sisters for the struggle carries on..."
First tents up here comes the samba band party starts
The trio of french bankers in levis on the next table are sticking into oysters. Waiter says it is busier than usual, they have all come for the riots. It is like apocalypse now, but with decent food.
I'm at the front, tho at a safe-ish distance. People are packed in, getting hurt. someone just said it feels like glasto without the drugs.
However, the G20 summit is providing me with more laughs - The Guardian have reporters on the scene writing Twitter alerts about what is going on.
FYI, "Twitter is a social networking and micro-blogging service that enables its users to send and read other users' updates known as tweets. Tweets are text-based posts of up to 140 characters in length."
Some of my favourite G20 Tweets...
We have a cunning plan we shall approach the city not together but in dribs and drabs i am a drab
(Russell) Brand puts his scarf around his face to stop the media focusing on him, which only encourages them more. Is he an anarchist? Who knows
Is this the mildest placard? 'Bring on decent decision making.'
Man dresssed as Death (real name Harry) giving interview about need to regulate financial institutions
Two eggs, an apple and tangerine lobbed at police. Someone on the royal exhange clock...
Guitars are out
Whole street now occupied lots of kissing dancing wayhay
And some pink milk shake thrown, and landed in my hair - tnks. Mood unruly but not violent.
Billy bragg sings the internationale from the steps of the bank of england. "Come brothers and sisters for the struggle carries on..."
First tents up here comes the samba band party starts
The trio of french bankers in levis on the next table are sticking into oysters. Waiter says it is busier than usual, they have all come for the riots. It is like apocalypse now, but with decent food.
I'm at the front, tho at a safe-ish distance. People are packed in, getting hurt. someone just said it feels like glasto without the drugs.
"This is the worst festival i've ever been to" quips one man as we are squeezed round a corner by a police line
Cancel all of my meetings this afternoon, because I am going to be stuck like glue to this Twitter!Friday, March 27, 2009
BoJo
I am a massive fan of Mayor of London Boris Johnson, a massive fan.
He has this big mop of blonde hair, mumbles and fumbles, uses big words and complicated sentences, rides his bike everywhere, and is a genuinely friendly and likeable man.
Boris is a real personality and people appreciate this. When he attended the opening of the Redbridge Cycling Centre (which I event managed) the press were nearly dry humping his leg, they loved him!
If you need evidence of BoJo's awesomeness, how about this little piece he wrote about the protesters at the upcoming G20 summit being held in London…
“They will taunt the police. They will paralyse traffic. They will do their utmost to spoil your day; and when they have been sufficiently whipped up by the oratory of Tony Benn, and when Billy Bragg has finished his ditties, it is a safe bet that they will begin the chant of hate. Somewhere in the crowd, a nose-ringed twerp will drain a mouthful of cider and call to his comrades. “What do we want?” he will demand.”
As a citizen of a Commonwealth realm, I'm voting for BoJo!
He has this big mop of blonde hair, mumbles and fumbles, uses big words and complicated sentences, rides his bike everywhere, and is a genuinely friendly and likeable man.
Boris is a real personality and people appreciate this. When he attended the opening of the Redbridge Cycling Centre (which I event managed) the press were nearly dry humping his leg, they loved him!
If you need evidence of BoJo's awesomeness, how about this little piece he wrote about the protesters at the upcoming G20 summit being held in London…
“They will taunt the police. They will paralyse traffic. They will do their utmost to spoil your day; and when they have been sufficiently whipped up by the oratory of Tony Benn, and when Billy Bragg has finished his ditties, it is a safe bet that they will begin the chant of hate. Somewhere in the crowd, a nose-ringed twerp will drain a mouthful of cider and call to his comrades. “What do we want?” he will demand.”
As a citizen of a Commonwealth realm, I'm voting for BoJo!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Who knew the Swedish were so much fun?
What a weekend!
After a couple of marmalade martinis with work colleagues after work on Friday, I trundled off home to finish packing for Stockholm and get an early night. Unsuccessfully. Thus began my long weekend of lots of fun and not lots of sleep.
Somehow I managed to get up and dressed in time for my 3am cab on Saturday morning. Yes people, at 3am I was leaving home, not getting home. I picked up Mark (aka Sparky) and Rebecca (aka Bec) and then we headed out to Stanstead.
Sparky had given me a heads up that Bec is the best person to travel with, as she is uber organised, and she didn’t disappoint. Bec had the airline booking number saved on her phone, her toiletries already packed in a clear ziplock bag, knew the best place to have a little breakfast snack, picked up some cheap duty free vodka, got us a prime position at the gate, and then saved us a great seat on the plane with plenty of room for our luggage. All Mark and I had to do was sit back and wait to wake up properly.
After two hours we landed in the middle of nowhere Sweden beside a tin shed – Vasteras airport. There’s not much to say about Vasteras as there wasn’t much to Vasteras. Apparently “customs” is the word they use to describe the hallway from passport control to the front door.
We caught the big gay bus (decorated with rainbow stripes) to the centre of Stockholm, dropped off our bags and then headed out for some traditional Swedish meatballs with cowberry and a bit of tacky souvenir shopping. Then it was back to the hotel for a rest, shower, and more than a litre of vodka before we hit the town.
The first stop was a cosy little bar in the Old Towne, where we just missed the live music and paid the equivalent of £9 or $20 for a vodka, lime and soda. After this we headed out to find some fun and, thanks to the advice of a random bouncer, we found it on the Lady Patricia! Lady Patricia is the funnest boat I have ever been on – three levels of different music and bars and funny Swedish people. We found a live band playing down one end and it was like someone hit the boogie switch, because the three of us literally walked into the room and started rocking out. The evening was a blur of sneaky drinks from Bec’s makeshift hip flask, new friends, poor English, expensive cab rides, lying to the concierge, embarrassing photos, and a hell of a lot of fun!
We somehow managed to drag our sorry butts down to breakfast on Sunday morning, but needed a little nap afterwards to brace ourselves for the cold and steel our nerves for the boat cruise. Hangovers in tow, we took a cruise around the archipelago and saw such amazing sights as the frozen waterfall, the Tivoli Gardens theme park, lots of yellow and orange coloured buildings, the house of a media magnate, some museums, and other interesting things. To be honest, I don’t remember much of the commentary (apart from the guide weaving his autobiography into it) because I was freezing. The rest of the day was great though – we did some more shopping, had dinner at the Boefheus (beef house), watched the most hilarious game show in Swedish, and enjoyed the falling snow.
Monday saw us all feeling a little more chipper, so after another great buffet breakfast (apart from when I set the toaster on fire) we went to a nearby park and mucked around in the snow, before heading to Skansen outdoor museum. Skansen “is the first open air museum and zoo in Sweden and is located on the island Djurgården in Stockholm. It was founded in 1891 by Artur Hazelius (1833-1901) to show the way of life in the different parts of Sweden before the industrial era.” I can only assume that Skansen is a bit like Sovereign Hill in Victoria, however all of the buildings were shut so I can’t be sure. That didn’t really matter, as we had a fantastic time walking around the old buildings in the snow, imagining what life would have been way back then, whilst taking photos on our digital cameras and drinking our Red Bulls. Sparky was a brilliant model, pulling any pose and climbing on any structure that Bec and I requested him to. The animals were the best part – reindeer, seals, bison, and brown bears. It doesn’t sound that exciting, but it was a bit of action in an otherwise rather quiet place. Our final hours in Stockholm were spent doing some more gift shopping, with some tapas and drinks in the Barcelona bar (very multicultural of us) before heading back to the airport.
London welcomed us back with a cold bitch slap and a long and tiring train ride to Liverpool Street, where we splurged on a cab home and declared it a spectacularly fun weekend!
After a couple of marmalade martinis with work colleagues after work on Friday, I trundled off home to finish packing for Stockholm and get an early night. Unsuccessfully. Thus began my long weekend of lots of fun and not lots of sleep.
Somehow I managed to get up and dressed in time for my 3am cab on Saturday morning. Yes people, at 3am I was leaving home, not getting home. I picked up Mark (aka Sparky) and Rebecca (aka Bec) and then we headed out to Stanstead.
Sparky had given me a heads up that Bec is the best person to travel with, as she is uber organised, and she didn’t disappoint. Bec had the airline booking number saved on her phone, her toiletries already packed in a clear ziplock bag, knew the best place to have a little breakfast snack, picked up some cheap duty free vodka, got us a prime position at the gate, and then saved us a great seat on the plane with plenty of room for our luggage. All Mark and I had to do was sit back and wait to wake up properly.
After two hours we landed in the middle of nowhere Sweden beside a tin shed – Vasteras airport. There’s not much to say about Vasteras as there wasn’t much to Vasteras. Apparently “customs” is the word they use to describe the hallway from passport control to the front door.
We caught the big gay bus (decorated with rainbow stripes) to the centre of Stockholm, dropped off our bags and then headed out for some traditional Swedish meatballs with cowberry and a bit of tacky souvenir shopping. Then it was back to the hotel for a rest, shower, and more than a litre of vodka before we hit the town.
The first stop was a cosy little bar in the Old Towne, where we just missed the live music and paid the equivalent of £9 or $20 for a vodka, lime and soda. After this we headed out to find some fun and, thanks to the advice of a random bouncer, we found it on the Lady Patricia! Lady Patricia is the funnest boat I have ever been on – three levels of different music and bars and funny Swedish people. We found a live band playing down one end and it was like someone hit the boogie switch, because the three of us literally walked into the room and started rocking out. The evening was a blur of sneaky drinks from Bec’s makeshift hip flask, new friends, poor English, expensive cab rides, lying to the concierge, embarrassing photos, and a hell of a lot of fun!
We somehow managed to drag our sorry butts down to breakfast on Sunday morning, but needed a little nap afterwards to brace ourselves for the cold and steel our nerves for the boat cruise. Hangovers in tow, we took a cruise around the archipelago and saw such amazing sights as the frozen waterfall, the Tivoli Gardens theme park, lots of yellow and orange coloured buildings, the house of a media magnate, some museums, and other interesting things. To be honest, I don’t remember much of the commentary (apart from the guide weaving his autobiography into it) because I was freezing. The rest of the day was great though – we did some more shopping, had dinner at the Boefheus (beef house), watched the most hilarious game show in Swedish, and enjoyed the falling snow.
Monday saw us all feeling a little more chipper, so after another great buffet breakfast (apart from when I set the toaster on fire) we went to a nearby park and mucked around in the snow, before heading to Skansen outdoor museum. Skansen “is the first open air museum and zoo in Sweden and is located on the island Djurgården in Stockholm. It was founded in 1891 by Artur Hazelius (1833-1901) to show the way of life in the different parts of Sweden before the industrial era.” I can only assume that Skansen is a bit like Sovereign Hill in Victoria, however all of the buildings were shut so I can’t be sure. That didn’t really matter, as we had a fantastic time walking around the old buildings in the snow, imagining what life would have been way back then, whilst taking photos on our digital cameras and drinking our Red Bulls. Sparky was a brilliant model, pulling any pose and climbing on any structure that Bec and I requested him to. The animals were the best part – reindeer, seals, bison, and brown bears. It doesn’t sound that exciting, but it was a bit of action in an otherwise rather quiet place. Our final hours in Stockholm were spent doing some more gift shopping, with some tapas and drinks in the Barcelona bar (very multicultural of us) before heading back to the airport.
London welcomed us back with a cold bitch slap and a long and tiring train ride to Liverpool Street, where we splurged on a cab home and declared it a spectacularly fun weekend!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
An open letter #2
Dear Jackie,
What, you are so busy with your part-time job, first aid training business, two toddlers and a teenager and a husband that you can’t wake up early on a Friday morning to Skype with me?
Love,
Moi
What, you are so busy with your part-time job, first aid training business, two toddlers and a teenager and a husband that you can’t wake up early on a Friday morning to Skype with me?
Love,
Moi
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Random thoughts
Redheads (or gingers or rangas or whatever you want to call them) look better with longer hair. It's like the more hair they have, the less red it looks.
Graham's Law (hi dad!) states that gases flow from areas of higher pressure to areas of lower pressure. I think that people in elevators need to apply this theory and disperse themselves evenly rather than all cramming in to my lift.
A friend of mine at work who is deaf taught me how to say champagne in sign language and it is awesome. You pretend to pop the cork and then do fizzy hands. I am now hoping to encounter a deaf bar tender so that I can pull this one out. Is that politically incorrect?
I saw a train going through the automatic wash today, which was pretty cool.
There is a lady at work who's surname is the same as a processed meat. It makes me laugh everytime I see it.
Yeah, it's been a pretty quiet week, but...
This weekend I am going to Stockholm, and the weekend after that I am going to Bath, and then at Easter I am going to Disneyland Paris. Yay! Plus, Amber has had her Visa approved so should be back in London soon to stir up some trouble!
Graham's Law (hi dad!) states that gases flow from areas of higher pressure to areas of lower pressure. I think that people in elevators need to apply this theory and disperse themselves evenly rather than all cramming in to my lift.
A friend of mine at work who is deaf taught me how to say champagne in sign language and it is awesome. You pretend to pop the cork and then do fizzy hands. I am now hoping to encounter a deaf bar tender so that I can pull this one out. Is that politically incorrect?
I saw a train going through the automatic wash today, which was pretty cool.
There is a lady at work who's surname is the same as a processed meat. It makes me laugh everytime I see it.
Yeah, it's been a pretty quiet week, but...
This weekend I am going to Stockholm, and the weekend after that I am going to Bath, and then at Easter I am going to Disneyland Paris. Yay! Plus, Amber has had her Visa approved so should be back in London soon to stir up some trouble!
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