Struth. You wonder why they win pub quizzes and pool - well, it’s not by fluke. It actually appears that the UpperFlat (you can try www.upperflat.com but they don’t have their own website) have gained a third member… namely next door’s cat who for the time being shalt be named Mr Tibbles who decided that Ross sweating on his exercise bike was just so attractive that he just had to come in.

No jokes about the level of pussy the UpperFlat is getting please…

Saturday…
Yeah… so anyway, it’s been a fairly quiet weekend here in the LowerFlat. Jim got back from home on Saturday night and since there was nothing better to do, the LowerFlat and Mark decided to head out down the pub, and for a change of scene we went for the Duke Of Buckingham down in Old Portsmouth. Feeling in a somewhat sociable mood, we also invited Penny and Gubbs - both of them actually arriving to grace us with their presence.

A few pints were consumed and the world put to rights - somewhere along the lines Jim and Rich even agreed that they’d attend the Quiz at the Union on Sunday night - depending on what state of inebriation they were in at the time. Come 11pm some rather unsociable person rang the bell and shouted ‘Time Please’ - all they had to do was look at their watch really but for some people even the most basic task can evidently be a chore.

Piling in a taxi, we returned back to Casa Chetwynd and feeling surprisingly the worse for wear after just a few pints we cracked on with the spirits, and cooked a highly delightful bowl of chips cheese and beans before heading off to bed - the idea being to get some work done sunday.

Sunday…
Sunday kicked off all rather normally with a little bit of work (not a lot mind you) being done. Rich had the brilliant idea of knocking up some Bacon and Egg sandwiches, whilst also drinking his first beer of the day. Come lunchtime, it was decided that the LowerFlat should pop out for a ‘lunchtime pint’… we never returned.

After a couple in the local we had a phone call from Rachele to see what we were up to, and in the interests of beer we headed off to The White Horse for a few whilst we waited for Phil to arrive from London to join us for the rest of the evening. He took a little longer than we’d have liked, so we moved onto the Owtback bar for a couple where Jim’s co-ordination was getting somewhat worse than usual. After putting the world to rights for a bit, followed by a short drive in the recently arrived Phil’s car we ended up in Goose for some food. Service was a bit slow, and so Jim resorted to eating Tartare Sauce out of the sachet. Thankfully shortly after a various assortment of food turned up, including Phil’s 6 bangers and mash - which ended up being quite an amusing sight to watch. During this time, the members of the LowerFlat also came up with some new hand gestures, and despite the best attempts of Rach to catch them on camera, they remain a mystery. There was also another co-ordination incident with Jim managing to get a large amount of ketchup to score a direct hit onto what had been a clean jumper.

After a dash back to the LowerFlat to get a clean jumper, we dropped Rach home and then headed off to the Union to get settled for the evening’s quizzing. By this time, feeling a little worse for wear. We arrived at the Union to meet Mark, Ross, Gubbs and Gem - and a whole host of ladies even worse for wear who probably wouldn’t have survived more than ten seconds infront of Simon Cowell with the level of singing talent they were demonstrating.

The quiz kicked off, with us in 2 teams, the idea being use the same answers and therefore get 1st and 2nd place and an increased winnings fund… however, owing to some confusion the final result was that ‘We never win anything’ came second and ‘LowerFlat.com + 1′ came aroud 5th or 6th - not really too sure how it all happened, but never mind. Jim’s skill in the half time quiz tie-breaker ensured that both teams got round on the house with the winning answer of 90,512… the question is what was the question…

Once it was all done and dusted, it was time to head home, courtesy of Phil’s driving once more, and Jim keeping (relatively) quiet in the back of the car.

So that’s the weekend, we’re next going drinking on Tuesday evening…. in Somerset.