My glorious pals, you are my precious beacons of light in the chaos of lockdown life. I am turning to you with the desperate hope that you can provide me with the sanity and clear thought that I am clearly not getting from the incarcerated idiots in Spindle Towers.
Spindle Towers has fallen prey to a phenomenon that is seductively insinuating itself into the nations psyche…yes, the zoom quiz.
Friday night has turned into our main quiz night, where several of the Tiny Terror and Hectors’ merry band of friends come together in a frenzy of hilarity and heckling.
The wall of beaming faces collectively appear on screen, as our friend Beth commented, like a cross between Blankety Blank and The Muppet Show.
Each household is contained in a small screen area, gurning at each other and clutching either beer, gin or tea – and in some cases all 3. Rumour has it that last week, one of the rowdy rabble was found gently snoring, limbs out flung like a stunned starfish in the snug at 3am, such was the excitement of the proceedings and possibly the liberal application of ale helped too.
Although there is much horseplay, it is taken fairly seriously, there is even an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of the scores, and Hector was reprimanded for unauthorised crisp packet rustling and unjustifiable crunching, during the movie theme round last week.
It is unfortunate that the laptop in Spindle Towers is so old that it is rare for it to last the entirety of the quiz…on one or two occasions it would not even start. Hector has to wind up its circuit board propeller and grease up the contact points. We did wonder whether Brian Cant might be up to his old tricks again, taking possession of the laptop, but it seems he is more at home residing in the printer, which we have all come to terms with and are happy for him to stay. (If this confuses you, then you probably need to read some previous diary entries).
The quiz rounds in question have been of varying quality in my opinion. There have been some really rather clever ones and hilariously funny ones and then unfortunately the ones penned by the inhabitants of Spindle Towers. I normally spend my Friday afternoons relaxing in the garden with Nelson. He can usually be found behind the greenhouse, continuing to attempt to divine water using his lucky coat hanger. He has unfortunately become a little anxious during the lockdown, so much so, that he has taken to wearing the dreaded buttock toupee again. Naturally we have been lending him the support he needs, and we have at last succeeded with getting him to discard the winter toupee (tog rating 20) for a lighter summer toupee. He is a sensitive soul, but really a balding bottom does not define a hound these days.
I myself was spending the warm afternoon lounging, having kicked off my sling backs, poured a Campari and Soda, and was nestling in the papery company of Agatha Christie.
It is then that the tiny terror, my haphazard muvver, comes crashing through my reverie like a crazed hippo, waving her arms and a piece of paper about…which means she wants to practice her questions on me.
So far we have had varied offerings, and still she maintains interesting and important things can be learned. All I learned from this week was that a former British MP came a cropper in 1881 when he fell off a horse, landed on a turnip and died. What I am supposed to do with that nugget? Last week we had to endure Unusual Medical Treatments through the Ages, which quite honestly was a bit unseemly in parts. The second round of today’s practice was Anagrams of Venereal Diseases, which I must admit was almost humorous in parts.
As it turns out, it seems that there is no limit to how funny anagrams can be, especially after a few drinkies. This then led us to look up anagrams of other names and things…including me. These were some of our favourites…
SPINDLEHOUND:
Nude Dolphins
Huddle Nips On
Idled Posh Nun
Piddles Oh Nun
Noddles Uh Nip
Puddle Shin No
Undid Hen Slop
Odd Hen Lupins
Dud Nelson Hip
I await this evenings quiz offerings with some trepidation, so I shall go and prepare myself with another Campari, I may even break out the twiglets.
This is where I will leave you today, my dear pal. We have to go and de-fluff Hector’s quiz fez. Until I see you next time, keep you lovely self safe and healthy.
Pip pip mon amie!
Me resting during the quiz Me wearing the answers
During the lockdown, we are allowed out more, but for health reasons, I prefer to stay home. This does of course mean that therapy dog visits are curtailed, except for 1 per week.
So on a Tuesday morning, if he remembers, I can expect to be getting reminded…AT 4.00 AM…that it is visiting day, If he hasn’t remembered, I only have to remind him, “It’s Tuesday”.
Then when I do something really stupid, like put socks on, that sets off hurricane Rassilon, racing through the house, leaping onto the bed, leaping off the bed and racing to the back door, until I let him out.
He is like one of those cartoon dogs when he leaps onto the bed. He turns and his legs start to run, but all he does is drag the sheets up the bed, while he stays still.
Tuesday is a dangerous day here!!
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