A Filthy Little Habit

Yuk
I have been slowly making my way through the Prince of Wales quiz book. Slowly, because the only time I have been reading it is when I go to the balcony of the flat to smoke one off. Thus, the white-filtered tips can attest to the fact that I have made it to page 217. Otherwise, I can't seem to read it indoors (what is up with that?). This thing called the internet seems to eat all that sheltered time up and I really, really must use my time more constructively.

However, I'd just like to say that it is just as good as I thought it was when I started reading it. Buy it or borrow it; it will make you moderately happy.

I really need to give up. My lungs feel so caged.

Moments of Complete Rubbishness
Last night, I was in a tie-breaker situation for first place in a pub quiz. Now you might think that this is a win-win situation with someone like myself, who supposedly has the quiz reflexes of a trivia-loving panther.

The question was who was Bill Clinton's Vice President?

I couldn't even muster an answer in the five seconds it took the other chap to get it and say it, and therefore muffle me into embarrassed silence.

That's Al freaking Gore, of course. Al Mother******* Gore Mother******. (That was our team name for the second quiz of the evening - nobody laughed, not least me).

My excuse is that I had the Simpsons version of Bob Dole marauding through my brain (why, you might ask? Why, I have been asking ever since).

And I have to remind myself that I am in the England team. This does not bode well.

Shutdown
With the EQC breathing down my neck and therefore hours of study to be done, this blog is sadly going into a semi-shutdown (sorry). But, I promise there will be periodic updates with regards to how I fare at this year's PEN quiz and tangling with stand-up comedians (something on Thursday). And, of course, there will be a gigantic and mad overview diary thing about the just east of Paris shenanigans. My notebook and pen are cocked. Let's do it. Etc.