Subtitle to the blog post: I like alliteration.  I mean, with my name, was there a doubt? What a week of words this has been. Starting with that terrible “Laodicean” last night and that unforgettably hard “B” handout round last night.  Then, spelling hippopotamus, Kardashians and supercalifragilisticexpialidocious tonight, and trying to explain all that god forsaken European punctuation as I read out the answers, it’s been a week my friends, it’s been a week.  My brain is taxed (and so are my braces). And I still have one more night to host. What can we possibly cover (C-O-V-E-R)  that we didn’t already?  If I have to speak in clicks tomorrow, I’m going to beat up a writer. That’s final.

Despite all the whack job spelling words and the extra work I put into grading tonight, we had a blast (B-L-A-S-T : informal; an enjoyable experience or lively party : it could turn out to be a real blast) at SPH. It’s climbing the ranks of Pub Quiz to become a great place for a smack-down on Wednesday night.  Any night you’ve got conversations with  a bar full of people about Diocese’s small dick prey and Rick Steve’s “Back door” to Europe, it’s a win. Even when you have to spell it all out. The winning team came in tonight prepared to win.  Take a look at the costumes they “threw together” for points. They spelled it out for us, spelling bee boobs.  Well done, and well won this week Pork Chop Express.

Also note the Sellwood Last Place Squirrel looking on toward them in great awe.  He got a little erection from staring at their boobs.  Well, to be fair, he’s got a permanent erection, but it looked more erect after the boobs shot. Or maybe it was the stripes?