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The Harp Inn
130 E 17th St # A
Costa Mesa, CA 92627
Wednesdays: 7:30 PM
View All Posts
Comment Now
2:17 AM, November 20, 2014
Scores
We Are Groot 75

If Kyle Loses, We Win 73

Shoving a Pudding Pop up Your Twat Does Not Mean You Were Raped by Bill Cosby!!! 72

The Better Halves 64

Princesses of Middle Earth?and Mario 59

Pants Off Dance Off 56

Theoretical Conspirators 56

Nailed It! 55

We Party With Bill Cosby 52

Piranaconda 49

Resident Egon


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Bryan (Resident Egon)

Born on a mountaintop in NYC, crowdedest place in the land of the free. Moved cross the country just tryin' to see, come to California when he was only 3.

Bryan, Bryan the Quizmaster. Duke of the wild frontier. (I wouldn't want to be King...too many assassination atttempts)

I am Garg. I am strong. I am strong because I am Ogre. No-one in the forest is stronger than me. When I was young, the old Ogres make the rules, hit me when I don't follow. Now I am older. I make rules. I go where I want. I eat what I want. I take what I want.

One day, I find something I want. Pretty pink-skin sharpclub. Bright stones on short round end, and long sharp end shimmers like pond water. I want, so I take. Little hard-shelled pink-skins have come to my forest with sharpclubs before, long time ago. They smarter than others. They know that they can't hit stronger, so they need to hit better. I am going to use pretty sharpclub to hit stronger AND better. I am looking forward to using sharpclub to hit.

I am not expecting sharpclub to hit me.

Sharpclub is alive. Sharpclub is angry. It does not want what I want, and so it hits me. I have been hit before. I am strong so I can take hits. But it hits my mind, and I do not know how to hit back. For the first time in long, long time... I submit. Sharpclub is strong. Sharpclub makes rules now.

Sharpclub tells me what to do. Sharpclub makes me stop fighting others in forest. Makes me give up land. I do not want to, but Sharpclub makes rules now. I am not strong now. Eventually, Sharpclub stops being angry at me and starts being curious.

Sharpclub tells me her name. She is Moonslicer, made by pink-skin shamans for pink-skin warriors. I understand this. She was made to kill pink-skin enemies. But I am pink-skin enemy. She does not kill me. I do not understand this.

 

One day, while eating dinner, I ask Moonslicer. "Why do you not kill me?"

"I don't understand your question," Moonslicer replies.

"You are pink-skin sharpclub,"

"Greatsword," Moonslicer interrupts.

"and you are made to fight pink-skin enemies."

"I was made to destroy evil," Moonslicer answers. She always talks in strange riddles. I have become used to this.

"Yes, evil. I know this word. It means pink-skin enemy. I am pink-skin enemy. I am evil. Why do you not destroy me?"

Moonslicer does not answer for long time.

"You are... "pink-skin enemy", yes. And most people would say you are evil... but I am not sure. I expected you to fight me, but you didn't. I expected you to resist when I told you to stop bullying the other creatures of the forest, but you didn't."

"Moonslicer is stronger than Garg, so Moonslicer makes rules."

"All the same... I think there might be some good in you, somewhere."

"...what is Good?" I ask.

"Good is..." Moonslicer stops talking. I can feel she is confused. "Good is... how to describe it? It is..." She stops again. She is quiet for a long time. "You know, I believe the best way to explain it is to show you. Go to sleep Garg. Tomorrow, we will start doing Good."

 

Next day, Moonslicer leads me to pink-skin home, in the middle of fields. No pink-skins there right now. She shows me broken walls. Tells me to take stones and fix walls. Then we leave. I do not understand.

"Why do we fix walls?" I ask.

"Those walls protect the humans from harm," Moonslicer says. "They have been torn down by raiders over the years. By repairing the walls, you have made the humans more safe. More strong."

"Why do I make them safe?" I ask. "I am pink-skin enemy. I do not want them to be strong."

"Patience, Garg," Moonslicer says. "Have patience and faith. You will understand eventually."

I do not believe her, but I say nothing. This does not make sense. This is pink-skin strangeness.

 

For the next two seasons, Moonslicer keeps sending me out to pink-skin lands. Fixing walls. Catching cows and taking them back to paddocks without eating them. Sometimes she makes me scare humans on roads. Sometimes she makes me hide from humans on roads. She calls the ones I scare "bandits" and the ones I hide from "merchants". I do not understand the difference.

"The merchants are weaker humans," Moonslicer says. "The bandits are stronger, and want to take from the merchants. You are driving them away from the roads so that they do not take from the merchants anymore."

"This makes sense" I say. "They are stronger, they take what they want. But why do you make me scare them so they cannot?"

"Because it is not good for the strong to take what they want from the weak."

"This Good does not make sense. I will never understand"

"You will understand" Moonslicer says. "Have faith."

 

For many more seasons, Moonslicer makes me do many things I do not understand. Eventually pink-skins... humans... start to see me. At first they are afraid. I understand this. But they slowly become less afraid. They no longer run when they see me. I do not understand this. I dig long ditches from the river to their farms. I build walls along their roads. I bring large sacks of food to their towns and leave them there.

One season, there is a great storm. Moonslicer wakes me during the night, urges me to leave the cave and go to the human lands. There is a town I have been near many times before. The river that flows through the village is flooding. The humans are splashing, shouting, drowning. They are scared. Moonslicer sends me through the flood to their homes. I lift humans from the water and put them at the top of the homes. I do this again, and again. I am tired, but Moonslicer pushes me on. I save more humans, I wade through the water that is up to my chest. I save the male humans, the female humans, the young humans, the old humans. I save all of them. When the dawn comes and the water goes down, I am more tired than I have ever been. I sink to my knees. I know the humans will kill me while I am asleep but I am too tired to get away. I fall asleep.

 

I wake up. I am not wet, cold or tired. I am warm, dry, resting on something soft and comfortable. I recognize it as a human barn - I have brought escaped horses to these before. I am covered in many skins. I am lying in dried grass - the humans call it hay.

A male human comes in. He sees I am awake. He does not run or look scared. Instead he smiles. He brings a large bundle up to me. The bundle has meat in it. Good, cooked meat. Better than I've ever tasted. I watch him carefully, but I am hungry and I concentrate on eating. Once I am done, he takes the bones and the bundle away.

The day goes by, and many humans come to the barn. Some hide by the door and only stare at me. Others come in. I recognize many of them as the humans I saved last night. I am still tired, so I lie in the barn. I feel... I do not know how to describe it. The humans do not threaten me, but not because I am stronger. Finally, in the evening, many humans come to the barn. They bring Moonslicer with them.

"I have been negotiating with the humans on your behalf," she says. "They are going to give you this barn to live in as a new home. They will give you food, while you keep the roads safe from bandits and help them tend their flocks and fix their buildings. I will stay with you to guide you."

I am quiet for a long time.

"I do not understand." I say. "If I was strong, and I came to take these things, they would not give them to me. They would run, or fight."

"But you didn't come to take them," Moonslicer replied. "And that is what makes the difference. You have made the humans' homes safe. You have protected their merchants. You have rescued their animals. And now you have saved their lives. And because you gave and gave and did not take, they now want to give to you, freely. And as long as you do not wish to take, you will receive. By serving them, you are now more free than you ever were in the forest. Not because you are strong. But because you are a friend. They are your strength now, and you are theirs. This is what Good is."

And I understand.

 

My favorite Team Names Tonight:

  • Shoving a Pudding Pop up Your Twat Does Not Mean You Were Raped by Bill Cosby!!!
  • Princesses of Middle Earth...and Mario

BEST ROUNDS OF THE NIGHT!!!!!!

  • Wow was Round 3 painful. Like seriously, seriously, painful.
  • Round 4 is the only time I never felt like being curt over Kurt.
  • Damn was Round 6 a dogged painful trial.
    • Oh shit...speaking of Round 6 there was a bonus email question. You're on the list right? You signed up with me at quiz? 

Have a great holiday, y'all! We'll see you in 2 weeks at The Harp. To get your Geeks Who Drink fix next week, go storm our sister quiz at Durty Nelly's...show 'em what quizzin' really be about and show Gerry the same kind of love you show me. In full force of love....

 

  • In 3rd - Shoving a Pudding Pop up Your Twat Does Not Mean You Were Raped by Bill Cosby!!!
  • In 2nd - If Kyle Loses, We Win
  • And your victors in 1st - We Are Groot

Check us out officially on the Facebooks behind the Orange Curtain!

Sign up for the Email Mailing List! Get the Round 6 bonus question! Preview round for the upcoming night!

 

Here's to being single...
Drinking doubles...
And seeing triple!

 

 

The Harp Inn
130 E 17th St # A
Costa Mesa, CA 92627
Wednesdays: 7:30 PM
View All Posts
Comment Now
12:09 AM, November 13, 2014
Scores
Red 5 Standing By 88

E=McHammered 87

The Lovely Boner 83

Owenbull 79

Lady Boyz II Men 78

What if Soy Milk is Just Regular Milk Introducing Himself in Spanish? 71

Keep it Secret, Keep it Safe 70

Red Teams Have More Fun 64

ooo-eee-ooo-ah-ah 37

Resident Egon


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Bryan (Resident Egon)

Born on a mountaintop in NYC, crowdedest place in the land of the free. Moved cross the country just tryin' to see, come to California when he was only 3.

Bryan, Bryan the Quizmaster. Duke of the wild frontier. (I wouldn't want to be King...too many assassination atttempts)

Cinnamon was a princess, a long time ago, in a small hot country, where everything was very old. Her eyes were pearls, which gave her great beauty, but meant she was blind. Her world was the colour of pearls: pale white and pink, and softly glowing.

Cinnamon did not talk.

Her father and her mother -- the Rajah and Rani -- offered a room in the palace, a field of stunted mango trees, a portrait of the Rani's aunt executed on hardwood in enamels, and a green parrot, to any person who could get Cinnamon to talk.

The mountains ringed the country on one side, the jungle on the other; and few and far came the people to try to teach Cinnamon to speak. But come they did: and they stayed in the room in the palace, and cultivated the field of mango trees, and fed the parrot, and admired the portrait of the Rani's aunt (who was quite a celebrated beauty in her day, although she was now old and crabbed and pinched with age and disappointment), and, eventually, they went away, frustrated, and cursing the silent little girl.

One day a tiger came to the palace. He was huge and fierce, a nightmare in black and orange, and he moved like a god through the world; which is how tigers move. The people were afraid.

"There is nothing to be frightened of," said the Rajah. "Very few tigers are man-eaters."

"But I am," said the tiger.

The people were much amazed at this, although it did nothing whatsoever to quell their fear.

"You might be lying," said the Rajah.

"I might be," said the tiger. "But I'm not. Now: I am here to teach the girl-cub to talk."

The Rajah consulted with the Rani, and, despite the urgings of the Rani's aunt, who was of the opinion that the tiger should be driven out from the city with brooms and sharp sticks, the tiger was shown to the room in the palace, and given the enamel painting, and the deeds to the mango field, and he would also have been given the parrot, had it not squawked and flown to the rafters, where it stayed and refused to come down.

Cinnamon was shown into the tiger's room.

"There was a young lady from Riga," squawked the parrot, from high in the rafters, "who went for a ride on a tiger. They came back from the ride with the lady inside and a smile on the face of the tiger." (Although, in the interests of historical and literary accuracy, I am obliged to point out here that the parrot actually quoted another poem, much older, and a little longer, with, ultimately, a similar message.)

"There," said the Rani's aunt. "Even the bird knows."

"Leave me with the girl," said the tiger.

And, reluctantly, the Rajah and the Rani and the Rani's aunt and the palace staff left the beast with Cinnamon. She pushed her fingers into its fur, and felt its hot breath on her face.

The tiger put Cinnamon's hand into his.

"Pain," said the tiger, and it extended one needle-sharp claw into Cinnamon's palm. It pierced her soft brown skin, and a bead of bright blood welled up.

Cinnamon whimpered.

"Fear," said the tiger, and it began to roar, starting so quietly you could scarcely hear it, working its way up to a purr, then a quiet roar, like a distant volcano, then to a roar so loud that the palace walls shook.

Cinnamon trembled.

"Love," said the tiger, and with its rough red tongue it licked the blood from Cinnamon's palm, and licked her soft brown face.

"Love?" whispered Cinnamon, in a voice wild and dark from disuse.

And the tiger opened its mouth and grinned like a hungry god; which is how tigers grin.

The moon was full that night.

It was bright morning when the child and the tiger walked out of the room together. Cymbals crashed, and bright birds sang, and Cinnamon and the tiger walked towards the Rani and the Rajah, who sat at one end of the throne room, being fanned with palm fronds by elderly retainers. The Rani's aunt sat in a corner of the room, drinking tea disapprovingly.

"Can she talk yet?" asked the Rani.

"Why don't you ask her?" growled the tiger.

"Can you talk?" the Rajah asked Cinnamon.
The girl nodded

"Hah!" cackled the Rani's aunt. "She can no more talk than she can lick her own backbone!"

"Hush," said the Rajah to the Rani's aunt.

"I can talk," said Cinnamon. "I think I always could."

"Then why didn't you?" asked her mother.

"She's not talking now," muttered the Rani's aunt, wagging one stick-like finger. "That tiger is throwing his voice."

"Can no-one get that woman to stop talking?" asked the Rajah of the room.

"Easier to stop 'em than start 'em," said the tiger, and he dealt with the matter.

And Cinnamon said, "Why not? Because I had nothing to say."

"And now?" asked her father.

"And now the tiger has told me of the jungle, of the chattering of the monkeys and the smell of the dawn and the taste of the moonlight and the noise a lakeful of flamingoes makes when it takes to the air," she said. "And what I have to say is this: I am going with the tiger."

"You cannot do this thing," said the Rajah. "I forbid it."

"It is difficult," said Cinnamon, "to forbid a tiger anything it wants."

And the Rajah and the Rani, after giving the matter a little consideration, agreed that this was so.

"And besides," said the Rani, "she'll certainly be happier there."

"But what about the room in the palace? And the mango grove? And the parrot? And the picture of the Rani's late aunt?" asked the Rajah, who felt that there was a place for practicality in the world.

"Give them to the people," said the tiger.

And so an announcement was made to the people of the city that they were now the proud owners of a parrot, a portrait, and a mango grove, and that the Princess Cinnamon could speak, but would be leaving them for a while to further her education.

A crowd gathered in the town square, and soon the door of the palace opened, and the tiger and the child came out. The tiger walked slowly through the crowd with the little girl on his back, holding tightly to his fur, and soon they both were swallowed by the jungle; which is how a tiger leaves.

So, in the end, nobody was eaten, save only the Rani's elderly aunt, who was gradually replaced in the popular mind by the portrait of her, which hung in the town square, and was thus forever beautiful and young.

My favorite Team Names Tonight:

  • The Lovely Boner (sure it's from a reddit post, but it's still funny)
  • Red 5 Standing By (not that it's witty or anything, but I'm always a sucker for Star Wars)

 

WOOOOOO!!!!!!

 

 

That is all....

 

  • In 3rd - The Lovely Boner
  • In 2nd - E=McHammered
  • And your victors in 1st - Red 5 Standing By

Check us out officially on the Facebooks behind the Orange Curtain!

Sign up for the Email Mailing List! Get the Round 6 bonus question! Preview round for the upcoming night!

 

The Harp Inn
130 E 17th St # A
Costa Mesa, CA 92627
Wednesdays: 7:30 PM
View All Posts
Comment Now
11:02 AM, November 06, 2014
Scores
And in 2nd by 1 Point 79

Astron 78

Reality is an Illusion Created by a Lack of Alcohol 77

Piranhaconda 75

Stephen Collins Stops by Honey Boo Boo for a Very Touching Episode 69

Lady Boyz II Men 67

This Team was Eaten by a Grue 59

Heath Ledger's Sleeper Pill TWO 59

Heath Ledger's Sleeper Pill 57

Late Arrivals 50

Keep it Secret, Keep It Safe 0

Resident Egon


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Quiz Schedule
Bryan (Resident Egon)

Born on a mountaintop in NYC, crowdedest place in the land of the free. Moved cross the country just tryin' to see, come to California when he was only 3.

Bryan, Bryan the Quizmaster. Duke of the wild frontier. (I wouldn't want to be King...too many assassination atttempts)

OMG Snape killed Dumblecore?!  Well we all know that but I just got done watching last night's 'Arrow' and I'm not very well going to post the episode's ending spoiler. That'd just be a dick move. Especially after last night's Round 5, II couldn't be a bastard about anything comic-related. For those of us who read the formerly pulp books, we're in a golden age of tv & movies, and I couldn't be happier and more hopeful. Sure we're gonna get an unimagineable amount of crap coming down the pike, but I'm going to remain hopeful for the majority of the projects finally continuing ot be treated with respect for the properties at hand and churn out decent programming. Arrow took a season to start getting good, Agents of Shield suffered about 5 'meh' episodes before it picked up, even Gotham is still just starting to find a set of feet that works for it. But if you haven't watched The Flash yet, you really should...totally best of the bunch.  But no way in hell I'm spending my day off watching superhero TV, I've got "Zombeavers" to be entertained by. Blood n guts a-comin'.

My favorite Team Names Tonight:

  • Reality is an Illusion Created by a Lack of Alcohol
  • Heath Ledger's Sleeping Pill

 

Remember remember this quiz from November, and the something something...something plot...hmn...guess my memory's not what it ought to be this morning. Doesn't matter...it's MATHS TIME! I'm not making this one all that easy, though the answer is out there once you infer the stone skips. But anyway...I'm wonder how fast a standard bicycle tire(assume mass of ~1.5kg) would have to be going in order to properly aquaplane.

 

  • In 3rd - Reality is an Illusion Created by a Lack of Alcohol
  • In 2nd - Astron
  • And your victors in 1st - And in 2nd by 1 Point!

Check us out officially on the Facebooks behind the Orange Curtain!

Sign up for the Email Mailing List! Get the Round 6 bonus question! Preview round for the upcoming night!

 

Here's to women's kisses,
and to whiskey, amber clear;
Not as sweet as a woman's kiss,
but a darn sight more sincere!

 

 

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