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The Rackhouse Pub
203 S Kalamath St
Denver, CO 80223
Thursdays: 8:00 PM
Comment Now
12:32 AM, May 11, 2012
Scores
Natural 69
Never Accept Candy From a Birdman 68
A hole is to dig, a gin is to drink 65
No Name 61
Shramp 57
Shadow Baby Got Back 55
My Patronus is Chuck Norris 55
Unemployed Intellectuals 54
Birthday Bash Bundy 50
If I wrote on your tits would you hold it against me 50
Jeremy Clarkson's Teeth 49
Shart Attack! 46
Legally Drunk 46
Fashionably Late 42
Ctrl Alt Delete 27
Lemmy Would Be Ashamed Of You, If He Gave A Shit About You, Which He Doesn't
Tex from Pittsburgh


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Thursdays @ 8 p.m. at the Rackhouse 		Matthew "Tex" (Tex from Pittsburgh)

FUN FACTS ABOUT ME:

I am married to a lovely lady and live in West Denver with my two lovely cats, Lucy and Trousers. We don't have any kids yet and my wife says we can't name any kids Lucy on account of that's what the cat's name is. If I'd have known that I would have named the cat something else, you know? 

The name of the gang is my neighborhood is the "West Ninth Fuk Puppets," judging by the graffiti in my alley.

I collect Cthulhu statuettes, paisley ties, aloha shirts, animal skulls, briar pipes, expired passports off of eBay and smashed pennies. I used to collect pogs but then they stopped selling them.

I've never broken an arm or leg, and never had chicken pox. I am immune to bedbug bites and nearly immune to mosquito bites.

I've been in three fights in my adult life and won 1 1/2 of them.

I went to Spain for my honeymoon. I had diarrhea for seven of the 10 days of the trip.

I won the Phoenix Public Schools spelling bee for 3rd grade in 1990. I got 100 percent on all my spelling tests in 4th grade except for the word "masquerade," which I spelled right, but I got a half point taken off because my sloppy cursive made the "u" look like a "v". But to hell with that. I spelled it right, give me the full point, right?

I must have done other stuff besides that, but that's about all I can think of.

I apologize to any of you who've had the misfortune of speaking to me for more than two minutes. I don't know why I always end up talking about poo -- specifically my poo, and the remarkable variety of consistencies and colors in which it manifests itself.

But good lord did I ever have to poo all night. My bowels felt like one of those bubbling mud pots at Yellowstone National Park, but I made it all through the quiz without so much as sharting. Someone should give me a medal.

Enough about my heroic defecatory triumph, though. On to the quiz. And a bitch of a quiz it was -- 15 teams, some of them with actual smart people on them, and no one cracked 70, even with a double or nothing round. Yowza.

Let's look at what went wrong. The music round was a massacre. Natural got 14 and My Patronus is Chuck Norris got 13, but the rest of you bums? The average score was 7. Not that I exactly blame you -- that was some of the shittiest, most soul-negating music I've heard in a music round in a long time. When Christopher Hitchens went to debates to argue against the existence of god, he would simply bring a boombox to the lectern and crank  "Say Hey (I Love You)." 

"What now, fuckers?" Hitch would say. And the Cardinal or born-again person, visibly shaken, would just walk away and concede the debate.

But while a lot of you won brownie points in my book for not knowing about shitty music, you also fucked up a question about good music a few rounds later by failing to know "Ace of Spades" by Motorhead.

You guys also whiffed on the crackhead audio round. With a possible 16 points, the high score was 7 (Candy from Birdman), and there were a couple of goose eggs. Not that I necessarily blame you on that one, either -- some of these were pretty obscure, like the 2005 Nicolas Cage bomb "Lord of War," which grossed $24 million at the domestic box office on a $50 million budget.

And Round 8 wasn't too much easier, with a high score of 11 (Hole is to Dig, Gin is to Drink) and the rest of you failing to crack double digits.

But I have faith in you quizzers. I know that you'll all study hard so you can come back next week and not look like a bunch of clowns. Not that I thought you looked like a bunch of clowns this week. It's just that... I know you can do better. All you need to do is bring your friends who have really awful taste in music and film.

The Rackhouse Pub
203 S Kalamath St
Denver, CO 80223
Thursdays: 8:00 PM
Comment Now
8:13 AM, May 04, 2012
Scores
Junior Say-Owwww 75
No Name 72
Hali-Houston Sandhich 68
Here For Beer 66
Hoof Hearted 66
3 Sexy Ladies & 2 Random Dudes 65
Bridge & Tunnel 64
Clever Slippery Devices 61
Pretty, Pretty Princess 57
Squid Kiss 53
Toothless in Poland 53
Denver via Oz 50
Knuckles 49
TK 4 Life 30
Pat 29
Ron Zapollo's Mustache 23
Bystander 17
WhatsItsNuts 15
The Quiz That Says Ni! & The Vast Wikipedia Wasteland
Tex from Pittsburgh


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Quiz Schedule
Thursdays @ 8 p.m. at the Rackhouse 		Matthew "Tex" (Tex from Pittsburgh)

FUN FACTS ABOUT ME:

I am married to a lovely lady and live in West Denver with my two lovely cats, Lucy and Trousers. We don't have any kids yet and my wife says we can't name any kids Lucy on account of that's what the cat's name is. If I'd have known that I would have named the cat something else, you know? 

The name of the gang is my neighborhood is the "West Ninth Fuk Puppets," judging by the graffiti in my alley.

I collect Cthulhu statuettes, paisley ties, aloha shirts, animal skulls, briar pipes, expired passports off of eBay and smashed pennies. I used to collect pogs but then they stopped selling them.

I've never broken an arm or leg, and never had chicken pox. I am immune to bedbug bites and nearly immune to mosquito bites.

I've been in three fights in my adult life and won 1 1/2 of them.

I went to Spain for my honeymoon. I had diarrhea for seven of the 10 days of the trip.

I won the Phoenix Public Schools spelling bee for 3rd grade in 1990. I got 100 percent on all my spelling tests in 4th grade except for the word "masquerade," which I spelled right, but I got a half point taken off because my sloppy cursive made the "u" look like a "v". But to hell with that. I spelled it right, give me the full point, right?

I must have done other stuff besides that, but that's about all I can think of.

We had 18 teams play tonight. Of those, only two correctly named Graham Chapman as the guy who played Arthur in "Holy Grail" and Brian in "Life of Brian," or three teams if you count the guys who answered "Graham Chaplin." 

I was flabbergasted. This is Geeks Who Drink. Geek is quite literally the name of the game. And what could be geekier than Monty Python? 

What the hell were you guys doing in high school? Playing sports? Having sex? Or otherwise interacting with other human beings? That kind of shit will get you far in life -- almost to the top -- but in the world of geeks, the rules that govern normal society are flipped on their head, and knowledge of Monty Python is richly rewarded. Not coincidentally, the two teams that got the Monty Python question right finished in first and second place.

By the way, for those of you who are reading this blog instead of doing actual work at your job, may I commend to you the virtues of reading and rereading the Monty Python Wikipedia page. I can't tell you how many deadlines I've missed while exploring the myriad rabbit holes that page offers. Behind the Beatles/John Lennon Wikipedia articles, that's the one I've wasted the most time perusing. 

Among the fun facts I've learned in lieu of doing my job: John Cleese's father was born with the surname Cheese, which he changed while in the army in World War I. And Graham Chapman, like yours truly, constantly smoked a pipe and struggled with alcoholism. 

There's loads of good stuff on the Beatles page, but the thing that blew my mind: Did you know that in 1964, at the height of Beatlemania, Ringo fell ill and the Beatles toured the Netherlands and Australia with drummer Jimmie Nicol for 10 days? Nicol was nearly driven mad after being thrust into international fame and back to being nobody in such a short span. He later reunited his old band, The Shubdubs (?!) and then drifted around with bands in Mexico and Sweden before fading into sub-Pete Best obscurity.

Anyhow... I was sorely disappointed that no one was able to identify the Japanese battleship Yamato in our visual round. It was only the biggest battleship ever built, guys. This is the part where I was going to tell you a longwinded story from my youth about the Yamato, involving a humiliating experience as a third grader, but I get the distinct impression that none of you would care.

Which is fine. As long as you guys give me credit, somehow, for knowing about the Yamato.

So that's that. I gotta go now -- I've missed several deadlines for my day job, so I've got to get cracking [reading the White Album Wikipedia page].

The Rackhouse Pub
203 S Kalamath St
Denver, CO 80223
Thursdays: 8:00 PM
Comment Now
1:54 AM, April 27, 2012
Scores
Thor's Gin Hamburgers 77
Bob Loblaw's Law Blog 71
No Name 70
Taint Nothin But a Gangbang 67
The Secret Servicers 66
Shitty Bedside Manner 62
Los Lobos Locos 62
Chafed Weenies 52
Those Who Shall Not Be Named 45
Slagathor 25
Young Love, Young Bloodlust, & Sad, Dead Dreams
Tex from Pittsburgh


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Web

Quiz Schedule
Thursdays @ 8 p.m. at the Rackhouse 		Matthew "Tex" (Tex from Pittsburgh)

FUN FACTS ABOUT ME:

I am married to a lovely lady and live in West Denver with my two lovely cats, Lucy and Trousers. We don't have any kids yet and my wife says we can't name any kids Lucy on account of that's what the cat's name is. If I'd have known that I would have named the cat something else, you know? 

The name of the gang is my neighborhood is the "West Ninth Fuk Puppets," judging by the graffiti in my alley.

I collect Cthulhu statuettes, paisley ties, aloha shirts, animal skulls, briar pipes, expired passports off of eBay and smashed pennies. I used to collect pogs but then they stopped selling them.

I've never broken an arm or leg, and never had chicken pox. I am immune to bedbug bites and nearly immune to mosquito bites.

I've been in three fights in my adult life and won 1 1/2 of them.

I went to Spain for my honeymoon. I had diarrhea for seven of the 10 days of the trip.

I won the Phoenix Public Schools spelling bee for 3rd grade in 1990. I got 100 percent on all my spelling tests in 4th grade except for the word "masquerade," which I spelled right, but I got a half point taken off because my sloppy cursive made the "u" look like a "v". But to hell with that. I spelled it right, give me the full point, right?

I must have done other stuff besides that, but that's about all I can think of.

For those of us who spent most of our time in elementary school fantasizing about shooting and killing things, The Oregon Trail computer game was a godsend. No longer were we compelled to express our precocious bloodlust via morbid doodles in the margins of our long division homework, prompting our third-grade teachers to phone our parents to let them know about the picture of a guy getting his brains blown out that we drew, with a red pen to capture the full details of the gore. 

"Your son says you let him watch 'Full Metal Jacket,'" our teachers would say. "I don't think that's appropriate for an 8-year-old."

"But that's his favorite movie," our parents would respond.

And that's not to mention the graphic torture scenes we were all constantly sketching on the back of our Language Arts folders. But it's only natural. What youngster's imagination isn't captured when his alcoholic uncle, who for some reason hangs out at the kiddie table at Thanksgiving, describes in graphic detail the medieval practice of hanging, drawing and quartering -- particularly the part where they castrate the victim and burn his junk before his eyes -- and what kid wouldn't feel the need to obsessively depict such scenes on his spelling test?

"If your son doesn't stop drawing burning severed penises on everything, the school psychologist says we're going to have to put him in a special school," the teacher would say at the parent-teacher conference.

To hell with those teachers. They were just jealous of our creativity.

But when it was time to go to the computer lab to play Oregon Trail, we no longer had to hide our childish urges to kill, kill, kill. Because in Oregon Trail, you could always go hunting, spending the entire class shooting the living fuck out of anything that moved. They should have called that game "Buffalo Murder Spree," because that's all it was. Fuck getting to Oregon, you know? We've been to Oregon in real life and it's not that great. It's certainly not as great as murdering a 1,000-pound buffalo and leaving almost all of its carcass to rot, because you can't get it all on the wagon.

But occasionally we'd be paired with a classmate to play Oregon Trail as a team. Sometimes it would be this girl called Amanda who we were in love with but never told anyone, ever, and we were too young even to masturbate while thinking of her, so we spent our young lives in trapped in helpless longing. Only while playing Oregon Trail were we lucky enough to be randomly assigned to the same computer as her -- to sit so thrillingly close to that unattainable creature.

Amanda, noble minx she was, actually wanted to get to Oregon, so we suppressed our desire to kill. Yes, my darling, let's get to Oregon. She was not only beautiful, but an overachiever who wanted to a high score. What to do, then? Well, we certainly couldn't choose to play as a banker, for although they start out with a shit-ton of cash, they get no bonus points at the end. To play as a carpenter would get us less money, but double our points. Farmers started with the least money, but would triple our points.

So we played as a farmer. To get the points. To win the game. To win her love. Did it work? No. We died of dysentery. And in a way, we thought our hearts would die of dysentery, too. She went to a different middle school, and we never even knew what high school she went to. In fact, we hadn't even thought of her in 20-some-odd years. How strange life seems sometimes, with everything so untethered in time and space.

Or to put it another way, no, team Thor's Gin Hamburger, your answer of "miner" for the Oregon Trail question was wrong. Being a miner wasn't even an option. The correct answer was "farmer," and a fat lot of good that does anyone. Not now, not then.

Go. Go away. I need to be alone.
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