Tattooed Rock Goddess

It’s quiz Grand Prix weekend again, so normal writing rules apply.

[before the quiz]

So this is four weeks with a consecutive blog, an almost unheard of event for at least a year. And in the week when I have to blog, I don’t have much to say either. At least it’ll be a short experience for you this week, if nothing else.

Quiz News: Amber Nectar* have given up quizzing at The Green Dragon*, and they did so in a typical fashion, with toys being thrown out of the pram like it was going out of fashion. And they blame Parker* for this, which is the culmination of a couple of incidents.

Firstly there was the night where Parker mentioned the Ipswich score over the mic, him being a big Ipswich fan and all, Ipswich having beaten Birmingham City 3-0. Apparently Amber Nectar took extreme offence at this – even though Mr Nectar is actually a Wolves fan. Doesn’t make sense to me either.

Then there was the night they thought they’d be clever, and answered ‘just enough’ to win the quiz. They miscalculated and Fork ‘andles* beat them by one point. As it turned out this was Parker’s fault for not reading out the same rules that applied every single week they played the quiz before the final round. Ergo, this makes Parker a patronising quiz master they just can’t get on with.

My theory is a bit different. At The Green Dragon they face stiff competition for the aforementioned Ronnie Barker tribute band, Jean Genie* (with or without Jean) and The Sparklers*. However, at The Pub*, they face a quiz crammed up into a corner, with a limited number of teams and a depleted Royal Blokes (missing myself and Iron Man* most weeks now). Ergo it’s easier to win there than stretching yourself and sometimes coming up short. As I said … Toys …. Pram.

Talking of stretching, I’m still going to the gym. I know, it’s surprising me as well. Herr Flick’s Monday spin class was a bit different this week – he came and turned my resistance down instead of up as I was struggling. This was no him turning into Michelle Dubois though, it was just him playing ‘Good Gestapo, Bad Gestapo’ because he then had me doing 10 minutes of press ups on the bike while peddling at full speed. I’m just going to have to give up the Van Klomp and be done with it.

Herr Flick was also dressed as Hulk (not Hulk*, that a different angry monster) for the occasion. Turned out it was an Avengers theme night at the gym. One of the trainers even looked mighty fine dressed in a black leather catsuit and heels, although she was not the TRG the title of this blog suggests. She was no Black Widow* either.

I also got told by my circuit training trainer that my face was not looking so fat as it was a few weeks back. So apparently I used to look like a hamster! I probably smelt of elderberries as well!

I have to announce that I’ve completely given up t’internet dating. I really can’t be bothered anymore with the whole meeting new people, trying new things rubbish. To give you an example of how ridiculous it’s become, at The Green Dragon this week there was a new team: The Terrible Two. Apart from them shouting out loudly ‘who writes this shit’, only to be met with ‘the bloke in the AC/DC t-shirt whose been marking your papers’, they weren’t too bad. Parker was quite taken with them at least. However, I recognised Terrible Blonde as a face that Plenty of Matches kept trying to push on me as a potential date, a date I’d equally resisted at every opportunity.

It comes to something when you don’t want to meet someone virtually, you end up having to meet them in person. That’s not what I signed up for, which is why I’m withdrawing my services. I could become a member of Amber Nectar at this rate.

In a bizarre twist of fate Parker had been chatting to her a few months back, and is now again. Love moves in mysterious ways. Neither of these ladies were the TRG of the blog’s title either.

Lucy has been binned this week in favour of El Wood, this lovely young lady:


Now that’s a TRG! And hopefully Miss Chelmsley Wood 2002* will now be able to read the blog with her kids in the room. Don’t worry Lucy fans (mainly The Divine Mr M*) she’ll be back at some point.

Back to the quiz front, I’m quite pissed off with the British Quiz Association at the moment. They haven’t posted either the scores for the Norwegian Open, or an updated ranking list, ahead of tomorrow’s GP. I have no idea where I stand or how I’m doing. The only thing I can guarantee is that I’m no longer #132.

I’m also pissed off that they are calling this the Birmingham Grand Prix. It’s taking place in the National Motorcycle Museum, which is in Solihull ffs. If Birmingham and Solihull were the same place then we’d now have (a) the National Stadium, possibly an ex-Olympic Stadium to boot, and (b) an airport that can fit a plane bigger than a Tiger Moth. Instead we have Solihull council refusing all planning permission on the airport/NEC site until “they rename it Solihull International Airport, because it’s just over the Birmingham border”.

If you’re not sure, that comment should be read dripping with so much sarcasm that it needs to go and change its pants.

[after the quiz]

Back when I used to work for various banks of dubious parentage, I used to drive on average a 1,000 miles a week, give or take. This gave me an intimate knowledge of the UK motorway network. I’ve not done this for over half a decade, so going to recent quizzes in the car (instead of by train) has been like renewing an old love affair. Except it hasn’t.

Northampton in March – M1 South had averaging speed cameras at 50mph on both carriageways for the entire journey.
Wakefield in April – M1 North didn’t want to be left out, so the cameras were there as well. 50mph all the way to the M18.
Solihull in May – M5 South, average speed cameras, 40mph.

At this point I’ll vote for anyone on Thursday who can promise me any form of investment in the road network, so you can make a journey faster than walking pace. Until that point, I’m back on the train again.

Preliminary results were 68th out of 82, a slightly worse result than normal. Egghead Pat won, and the guy who writes the questions for University Challenge was second. Down in the low 60s, we were just universally challenged. Hopefully the BQA will get its act together and publish ranking ahead of the next quiz – the World Championships!! Until then, it seems I’m stuck at #132.

Footnote: Iron Man had the audacity this week to chastise me for not going down the pub and seeing a woman instead. Hello … Pot … Kettle … Darker Shade of Grey! The woman in question is TRG*, a blonde variation of the above pictured El Wood. A quizzing ex-biker, so she would have been a perfect partner for this month’s GP, except that she was dog sitting. After mentioning TRG and dogs in the same sentence, I feel I should end on a Lord Flasheart style WOOF!


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