Morning Kids,
I thought it may be better to start a new thread about saturdays shenanigans rather than wading through 21 pages of the precursor thread.
nice to meet the peeps i hadnt before, and to see the ones i already had again.
in answer to some points raised on the other thread, pauls super homing beacon activates as soon as he leaves the pub. it was home with a kebab for me. i also apologize to mr gyrate as he was correct and my shouting was all for nothing, even though i seem to remember it being Cherry LIPS rather than TREATS but hey.
oh, and its probably not the best idea to pull me on my grammar after ive been drinking for 10 hours straight, eh?
Got drunk. Talked about physics. Someone got a picture of my arse again. Got more drunk. Had good food at the Mongolian Barbeque place. Went back to pub. Drank more. Lost at the Gyraquiz, despite my bribes of cookies and cleavage
Then we started playing with writing icing, but Bibliovore wouldn’t let me ice his head. : pouts: Someone iced my chest though. I think it was Tir. Tried to wash icing off. Succeeded. I think then someone got pictures of cleavage, and of me attempting to change tops (with myself this time) since the one I was wearing had icing around the neckline.
All in all, it was fun. Tir now has a huge stash of ginger cookies, garius has all the chocolate chip cookies he could wish for (so you’ll have to be nice to him if you want any), as well as my paper, and I was remarkably, not hungover.
Ate cookies. Got my arm iced and my back rubbed. Smoked about a zillion ciggies. Ate rugelach and more cookies. met new people. had a great time. Looking forward to the next one!
I think I got the chance to talk to nearly everyone, avoided getting written on, and drank far too much. Had a brief moment of panic when I thought I’d left my rucksack on the tube, then remembered I didn’t bring it.
You know you’re at a dopefest when grown men argue over My Little Pony!
Can I just point out that Virgin trains are bleeding crap. Not so much on the way to London, where I was surrounded by snogging couples blech, but on the way back - it should not take four and a half hours to get from London to Birmingham. We were stuck for 45 mins at Coventry because a fight broke out in first class. (I had nothing to do with it, I swear!). It was crazy.
Doper Gals. Icing pen that writes green. Exposed flesh. This is a fine, fine combination. We pass this wisdom on to the rest of the world and to subsequent generations, hoping that it will be cherished and well-received.
Tansu is sexy smart and lovely, even when she has gone a little ‘screen blue’ on us, and no Dopefest is complete without her highly delectable presence. The poor girl has to get up at something like 3am on the second day before the Dopefest just to arrive on time. Anyway, she’s responsible for the Best Post Of The Year - her truncated account of being victimised by the virgin Wine Club or something like that. I haven’t searched hard enough to find it to link to it, but it’s wonderful.
It only takes one pint to get paulberserker drunk. We’re not sure, but we think it was the 14th. When drunk, he is mouthy, objectionable, surly and indulgent - in short, superb, and we love him dearly. His presence shall henceforth be considered essential.
Doper Gals can cook. The quality of baked goods was truly wonderful, and this shall henceforth be a principal criterion for assessing the success (or otherwise) of a Dopefest. Slightly less impressive was the choice of distribution mechanism, which was: place fully-ladden Tupperware boxes next to Garius. This plan contains a fatal flaw. See if you can spot it.
Most of us have now officially converted to Judaism. Eva Luna said this followed automatically if you eat rugelach, which most of us did. It’s the most more-ish food I’ve tasted in a long while. For those Doper Guys who need it, the appropriate surgical intervention will be performed next time. Tir has offered to help and to bring her own meat cleaver.
Eva Luna is babe-a-licious gorgeous - attractive, fun, smart, sociable and bakes great stuff. I think I proposed to her three times. I was heartlessly rejected every time which, though unjustly cruel, at least means I’m still available for when Jacqueline Bisset comes a-calling.
Gyrate puts more work into a quiz than ten series of ‘Mastermind’, and devises better questions. Our collective thanks and admiration. Three cheers for Gyrate! And I’m not just saying that because I happened to be on the team that won. Incidentally, for those who weren’t there, after a very long and tortuous period spent trying to decide what to call the two teams, I think it was Alex B who solved the problem with his not-atypical flair. We named the teams ‘Team 1’ and ‘Team A’. Genius.
The Harris conjecture has been born: ‘It is possible to sit in a London pub with a mainly Brit clump of people whom you have met on the internet, and for a quiz question about a Monty Python sketch to come up, to which none know the answer’. This is widely considered impossible, and the claim that the phenomenon was witnessed on Nov 29th 2003 is dismissed by experts since (a) most of the so-called witnesses were drunk and (b) there is no documented evidence or proof.
I think a modest campaign is in order to get ‘cleavagebribe’ accepted as a new word into the OED. On behalf of all duly thankful Doper Guys, may I offer praise that so many Doper Gals saw a cleavagebribe as a perfectly acceptable, legitimate way to try and influence nearby people (especially quizmasters).
I also want ‘freestyle ranting’ to be introduced as an Olympic Event and a category in the Guinness (highly apt) Bk of Records, just so’s that Twist Of Fate can win Gold and get into the book. He was on fine, fine form, and the rest of us can only bask in the splendid freewheeling poetry of his shimmering extemporisations.
Angua can speak some Polish. I tell you, brain the size of a planet…
If there’s a Doper Quiz and you don’t get yourself on the same team as Steve Wright, you’re just asking to lose. I mean, we had stuff like ‘Where are panama hats made?’. To SW, stuff like this is just a stroll in the park. He’s been absorbing this kind of trivia for years. If we have a future two team event, SW will probably have to clone himself, one SW for each team, to make it a fair contest. (It’s Ecuador, duh).
Thanks to all who came along and made it such a great party. May I organise the next one, as I’m flitting in and out of the country a lot next year and I don’t want to miss it?
As long as we can have it in Anguavile - its much easier to provide you guys with the baked goods that way. And I may have to try my hand at baking rugelach, seeing as Eva won’t be able to join us, and the fact that mine pies will be terribly out of season. I bake decent cakes as well…
We also had an icing pen that writes in yellow. I don’t think that it was used enough.
In my case, they look disastrous, mostly … combination of very small camera and inept photographer with eight pints of bitter inside him - it makes for poorly composed photos.
(The simulated picture of the inside of the Channel Tunnel came out perfectly, though.)
(Oh, and no surreptitious shots of Angua’s bum were taken at any time. Not at all. Thought never crossed my mind.)
