cheap champagne does not help one to get to work on time the next day

So... It's Christmas and my typing skills are limited. It's already been a messy one and I've got to hang around in Forres for a while yet. Hmm. Need to find my phone.

Anyway, we won the quiz again t'other day. We pretty much rock. Alice was our most recent member. I don't think she really got it.

I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to entertain you with any good tales of the night because, frankly, I can't recall any specifics (that word doesn't look right.)

I need a drink.

on an unrelated note...

I've never really liked Australians but my God, I hate those chipper, classless, every-sentence-is-a-question cunts even more than usual right now.

And I'm not even English.

Cruel defeat for unfamiliar Axis

After last week's second place (sorry for the absence of a report - very uneventful), a new-look Axis gathered at the Eagle seeking to return once more to the top of the podium. Samin and Sofie were unable to attend and, so worried were their teammates by their absence, no fewer than four replacements were drafted in. They were (in order of hair-length) Paul, Adam, Hughie and Christopher. In spite of this, confidence was high as the Axis looked to fly out of the traps.

Round 1 arrived exceptionally late, as per usual, and was dealt with to perfection up until the voices of Norman Lamont (sorry Lucy) and Robert Carlyle (not to be mistaken with boxing nutter Scott Harrison). The Axis had 8 and was only one point behind the leaders.

Round 2 was timed and featured codes. An example would be 52 C in a P being 52 cards in a pack. Again the Axis performed admirably, scoring an impressive 9/10, only failing to recognise 3 W in M. A split appeared within the team as to what to write. Some thought that the guess '3 wanks in mum' was the funniest thing they'd ever heard and that it would be a great answer for the Axis to provide. Fortunately, the other team-members hadn't been lobotomised that afternoon and vetoed this bizarre offering. However, their option of '3 waterways in Manchester' was equally pitiful for different reasons. If anyone wants to post a guess, feel free - the real answer will be given next week. In any case, the Axis were still only 1 point down on the now joint leaders and were looking good for a strong challenge.

Round 3 was, unusually, the picture round, this time involving games and famous world leaders. This was reasonably handled with a couple of unfortunate, if not glaring, errors. Such classics as Buckaroo, Boggle and Ludo were instantly recognised, as were computer classics Space Invaders and Donkey Kong (a programming problem in Yarno's brain led him to obsessively suggest that this was actually Killer Gorilla - one of his childhood favourites - but he was quickly shouted down). The only 2 games that were missed were Defender (we guessed R-Type) and Ma-Jong (this was missed by over-confidence from two of the team clashing with the indecision of two others - if you think it might be Ma-Jong, it's not much use if you don't say anything. If you're not sure it's Memory, don't pretend you are.) World leaders were also tackled with sufficient skill, only the frankly irrelevant Prime Minister of New Zealand eluding the Axis. So, with one round to go there was only one point in it. And it was the Gathering Storm who were setting the pace.

And so to Round 4. Music! Bollocks! We're shit at that. But....Classical music! Hell yeah! Normally we'd be shit but by a freak coincidence Dave's decision (which he surely thought would end our challenge) played right into our hands. Enter Adam (as I'm sure his Choir master did on many an occasion - hohoho, very drole yarno). Classical classic followed classical classic and Adam marked each one down with feverish intensity (I should also mention Christopher's shout of Peer Gynt - very impressive). The Axis was surely going to win. Adam knew his shit...sort of. Unfortunately, he failed to recognise Tchaichovsky and instead wrote some nonsense about fireworks. Two points missed and the Axis lost by...two points. It would be unfair to blame Adam, though, but that's just life - thanks for coming.

So there we have it. Second place for the second week running. Thomas, Christopher and Paul made a quick exit, cursing the team's poor fortune. An infuriated Yarno offered the remainder of the team a round of drinks, only to be cruelly bamboozled by a Hughie/Lucy Merlot/White Wine riddle that caused great embarrassment at the bar (he knows Merlot is red wine, he was just confused). His world fell apart further when he discovered that only one other person in the pub knew what Great Britain looked like. How anybody could claim that Hughie's disturbing effort was the more accurate (drawing blind) is anyone's guess. Anyway, the Axis came second and it was pretty average (although more exciting than last week). Next week is the Christmas Quiz, as well as being Yarno's last appearance, and Samin and Sofie are due to return. Surely a Christmas victory is in store for the Axis of Evil.

Pick yourself up. Dust yourself off.

There are many people in this world who claim that competition is not about winning or losing. They state that competition rests on ‘taking part’ and that, as long as you are involved in the race, the result is unimportant. These people are very ill, and probably lose all of the time. The Axis is not made up of such people and that is why Wednesday’s defeat is such a hard one to accept.

Things were going swimmingly at first. Round one arrived 40 minutes late (a new record?) and a succession of voices, ranging from Vlad the Radiator to Ben Affleck, were recognised and names jotted down. Only some nobody from ‘I’m a Celebrity’ existed outside the combined knowledge of the Axis. Round two was even more impressively handled, with female members Lucy and Sofie showing an alarming knowledge of the nocturnal habits of all celebrities presently in London. Lucy (sporting a new home-made fringe) was in particularly Evil form, launching an unexpected vitriolic attack on the character and sex-appeal of Callum Best. The rest of the team shuffled nervously as a stream of high-level expletives flowed from her mouth. She managed to calm herself, however, and the Axis was able to focus on the books section of the round. As the first line of each book was read out, the Axis quickly wrote down title and author with embarrassing ease. This was a fine demonstration of literary expertise and the procession was almost completed when it became apparent that none of the team knew who the hell wrote Moby Dick. Judging by some of the speculative offerings, four of the members didn’t have the foggiest. However, original Axis member Thomas was sure he knew and after pulling a number of Evil facial expressions and apparently attempting to cough up blood, he came up with the answer – Herman Melville (Who the f***?). It was inspirational stuff and meant that after two rounds the Axis had only dropped one point. Then…

Why oh why oh why does the Axis not recruit a music expert? It has been talked of on a number of occasions but as yet is a glaring weakness that has not been treated. Names have been mentioned and certain people tapped. However, the Axis has failed to recruit a suitable member. Song after song after song blasted out of the speaker only to be greeted by blank faces. After a second play-through the blankness was replaced by anguish and, in some cases, terror. It was true – the Axis was going to lose. 10/21 is a crap score by anyone’s reckoning. It dropped the Axis from joint top to about seventh, a whopping 11 points behind leaders and eventual winners Chisel my Schnizzel.

The Axis was broken. Some team-members suggested taking their own lives. Others suggested getting more drinks. It was a close call but drinks won the day. Round four was the picture round. It was a totally academic pursuit but the Axis went about its work with characteristic professionalism. This is a proud institution. Famous Belgians were recognised in an instant (there are a surprising number), the only slip-up being the Belgian painter Reubens (or Rubens depending on your taste). Eyebrows were raised and a few accusing looks were directed towards Art graduate, Lucy. Famous Aussies proved a little more tricky. Ned Kelly went unrecognised and a disgraceful slip-up by Yarno on snooker player Neil Robertson meant that the Axis dropped a total of three points in this round. Not bad but not great. What was bad was what followed…6th place! This was the Axis’s worst performance ever. It was barely a performance. The Axis sucked.

So what now for the Axis? Team leader Samin tested the waters by suggesting disbandment. This was met with violent protests from the rest of the team. Only four points had been dropped outside the music round. The Axis was broken but it could be fixed. And the team was not willing to wait. A foray into the Goldhawk for Monday’s quiz is on the cards. After this, the Axis returns to the Eagle to reclaim its crown. A week to nurse wounds. A week to restore pride. When you’ve won something once, you realise that’s all that matters. Yesterday the Axis just took part – we will not let it happen to our beloved Axis again.

if shakespeare and chaucer somehow had a lovechild, it couldn't come up with the words...

Victory!!!!















That's right. We've only gone and done it. First place. Winners. Gods amongst men. To be fair, they didn't really stand a chance when faced with what must surely now be known as the Axis of ALL Evil. The Dream Team. The Ultimate Six. Team Awesome. I could go on...

I WILL go on. We fucking rock! Love our work. We're so hot right now. A page full of amazings wouldn't suffice. I've never felt so blessed. Actually, sod that, we weren't blessed; we did it all ourselves. I'm not sharing any of the credit. It was a performance to be written into history. They think the Bible is the greatest story ever told?! Pah!

All these weeks of slogging away with the also-rans has finally paid off. I'm sorry to baffle you with statistics but I think it's worth appreciating that our placings in the last four weeks have gone from fourth, through third, up to second (we really need to drink that beer soon) and finally, finally, FIRST. Drink it in. Five letters, one result. First.

Bwahahahahahahahahaaaaa!!!

I think we need a quick rundown of the details of our achievement so that those who weren't there can truly appreciate all the facets of our greatness. For there are many. I suppose you could say that our greatness is multi-faceted. See what I did there?

First up was, as ever, the current-affairs-told-through-the-voices-of-those-who-are-in-the-news-on-whatever-radio-station-Dave-listens-to round. A personal favourite I'm happy to admit. It's always nice to begin strongly and if it hadn't been for Les Reed we would have been off to a perfect start, despite some crazy dissent from Iano who, despite claiming to be the World's Biggest Aberdeen Fan, failed to fully recognise the sweet tones of one-time Don and general radge, Sir Alex Ferguson. Shame on you Ians. One team did know the frankly horrible christian name of the new Charlton manager, so we found ourselves in second place, with only a point in it.

Now I have to give our quizmaster, Dave, some credit and general congratulations for never failing to make the second round interesting. It always varies week-to-week and I'd have to say that he manages to be very inclusive of all players in his selection of questions. We've had celebrity piffle-paffle (loved it). We've had other stuff (see previous posts; I can't be bothered). But tonight it was to be... Latin. Not the most exciting of rounds some might think, with the potential to be rather difficult for a team of twenty-somethings. However, our team is lucky enough to have been educated at some of the finest schools in the country (props to Forres Academy) so we were nothing if not confident.

In amongst the obvious side-of-coin inscriptions and Roman nonsense appeared the frankly frightening revelation that Marlboro's motto is Veni, Vidi, Vici. Scarily true, especially amongst the white middle classes. Good to see Sof sticking with the Bennies. She was always close to the proletariat... Anyway, thanks to a little outside help with the mottos of some Premiership teams - which we did, in fairness, identify ourselves - and some educated guesses, we found ourselves three points clear (!) at the end of the round. It was getting exciting. Not to mention fucking nerve-wracking.

Three points might seem like a comfortable lead but if there was one thing that could ruin it for us it was the next round. The music round. Regular readers of my productivity-destroying rants will be aware that we're not great fans of the music round. Mostly because we're shit at it. We've thrown away many a quiz in this round and to be honest, we expect to do the same every week. Let's see how we did...

Thankfully Samin had had the good sense last week to pester Dave into revealing the general theme for this week's round. Walking and running. A lot of scope there for some great tunes (the Straits leap immediately to mind) so it didn't sound bad. Some prep was done by Sam but to be honest, I think we would've done pretty well without it. With it, we got full points. That's right! In the music! Awesome... I think it's worth mentioning that we'd heard barely a note of Craiiiig David's Walking Away before Sam was frantically scribbling down the answer. His shameful love of boy bands and cheesy crooners (which I share) was finally paying off. I won't bore you with all the details but amongst our in-seat boogying to the aforementioned Straits and the Doobie Brothers (we've got all the moves) we manged the faultless round.

We were now four points clear. A magnificent margin indeed.

Cue lots of chain smoking and drink guzzling as we awaited the handout for the final picture round. We knew we were in a strong position but it would only take some difficult pictures and/or some stupid mistakes to throw it all away. We've done it before and tasted the pain. It's not good.

All fears were soon swept aside upon the realisation that were to be asked to identify... logos. Oh, the sweet joy for a table full of capitalist whores. Depsite the inclusion of the Daewoo logo (who's going to lust after that particular brand?) and the majority's incorrect insistence that Maclaren were actually schoolboy's favourite Head (they definitely made the best boot bags), we basically nailed it. Trickier were the four or five island outlines which had been randomly included at the top of the sheet. And their capitals. I'm not sure if I've ever seen a BBC correspondent reporting from the streets of Greenland or Madagascar so I'm fucked if we were going to get their capitals. Happy with what we'd done we handed the sheet back and waited.

I'd say we were 99% confident of victory at this stage but we'd been burnt before. We couldn't allow ourselves to rejoice until the points countdown to follow. As Dave mocked the lower places (thoroughly deserved) and worked his way up to the big players, we'd still heard no mention of the Axis. The places ticked by. Fourth: nope. Third: nope. Second... No! "And this week's winners are the frankly awesome and amazing [I may be paraphrasing] Axiiiiiis offff Eeeevil!!"

Woooooooohooooooooo!!!!

Do you think we were happy? Can you tell..?
















Remeber those faces. You're gazing upon greatness. The dude in the middle's Dave. The rest are the Axis. Good looking bunch.

Well, we've finally done it. There's been a lot of heartache and some great times, but we stuck it out and it's all paid off. Although we now have the pressure of returning next week as defending champions. There are going to be a lot of teams out there desperate to steal our crown but they'll be in for a fight, that's for sure. Until then, we can bask in the glory and congratulate ourselves on some great work (as if I haven't done that enough already...)

Here's to the Axis and continued success...

can free beer be as exciting as eternal glory?

Almost!

Last week (I've been busy...) witnessed a record placing for the Glorious Axis. For those of you haven't been following our fortunes on a weekly basis (shame on you) that's second. Yup, the first loser. Still if being a loser involves free beer then I guess I'm a loser. No, hang on...

Anyway.

As there are preparations to be made for tonight's statistically likely victory, this will be a very short entry. Last week's most notable occurrence (other than our near victory - two points!) was the appearance of Samin's father, Alan. This is him:



















Nice chap. Bought a couple of rounds of drinks. Not really as grumpy as he looks. I think he got a question right. Don't remember which one. He seemed impressed with my Nancy Pelosi knowledge.

Enough about Alan.

Oh, we also very nearly aced (47 from 48) the film picture round.

Anyway, long story short, we came second. Tonight we expect to win. I'll be back in touch tomorrow with the news.

quote of the evening

"I want to be the bridesmaid for once"

Don't know what Iano/Yarno (I go with the former but the man himself insists on the latter. Not your choice, IANO) was thinking, but there it is.

"we're never going to win this fucking quiz" - sofie

Where to start?

Don't be fooled by the picture. You're looking at six of the most dejected people in west London. We may look young and carefree but we've lived our lives. And it hasn't always been easy. Those bright, shining eyes have witnessed some terrible things. Like continuous, soul-destroying, never ending defeat. Sob.

It had all started so promisingly. The one person with the potential to be unemployed for even longer than Rai had put his long, empty days to good use and provided us with a fine selection of athletic prowess in the form of the world's premier darts and snooker players. What Michaelangelo would have made of Andy 'The Viking' Fordham is anyone's guess but judging by his virile beard I'm guessing he's packing somewhat more than David was. Sorry for that image.

Before facing what might just be may favourite round yet we had to deal with our bread and butter - the identify-the-voices-what-Dave-has-recorded-off-the-radio round. Largely thanks to Samin, we usually ace this round. For that very reason, I'm holding him totally, and legally, responsible for our failings yesterday. I knew it was Clint Eastwood but I was too weak to speak up. Samin's fault again. Don't ask why; it just is. And why do all struggling, bottom-of-the-league football managers sound the same? Why Samin, why?

Incapable as I am of recalling which round came next, I'm going to guess it was current affairs. I can't really remember how well we did at this. Nor can I enliven this paragraph with wit. So I'll move on. How the fuck did we do?! I honestly can't remember. Answers on a post card please.

It must be music next. I hate that round and what I do remember is that I deemed it a perfect opportunity to go to the loo without endangering the team's success. Normally they can't do without me but when it comes to the music round I'm about as much use as that kid who has to wear a helmet to school and has the awesome velcro shoes. I miss velcro shoes.

I don't know what we'd done to appease the universe yesterday but somehow we did fucking amazingly in the music round. We barely dropped a point. Could have something to do with the food and drink theme... Food: good. Drink: good. Food and drink: gooood. Probably a good time to mention that Sofie's macaroni cheese wasn't nearly cheesy enough. Could explain the dejection:














At this point we were in second place, with darts, snooker and WAGs to finish. How could we fail? We'd fucking invented this round. We'd spent the week nerding up on it. We were ready.

Dave though, not happy with the perfect picture round, had decided to throw in three of the most random boxers in the history of, well, boxing. The shitbag. That reminds me; Dave was hammered last night, but for a very good reason. This post is dedicated to the memory of Johno.

Anyway, we nailed the dart-chuckers, missed one old school snookerer, came all over the WAGs (figuratively speaking) but were thrown by the fucking boxers! They were never part of our plan!

It was going to be close but we could be confident of at least second place.

After a nailbiting points roundup we were presented with our prize. Third?! We were destroyed. I think this best sums it up:














I, for one, couldn't believe it. Fucking third?! We may have clawed our way up to the lowest tier on the podium but we all felt we deserved better. I will, however, give props to the winners, Quizbollah, who have an awesome name so I really can't hate them. Much.

I guess to go from fourth to third in a week would mean that we're going to win the thing in a fortnight, and we should be pleased with ourselves. Not so. I'm fucking fed up of not being the best in the room (I have issues I'm not even going to get into) and it's about time for us to hit the top.

We will. Honest Sofie, we will.