May 25th, 2006
Categories: Uncategorized

Bakewell Tarts: Enough To Make A Man Get Angry

 

Should I ever need a proof reader, the only people I will even consider employing from this blog’s readers are Tilesey and Sibley. Both of who are the only people who actually read the whole of yesterday’s post, and gave me both answers which I was looking for. Most of you got distracted by Avril and were quick to point out that I used to fancy Avril and now I didn’t recognise her. So, for those of you who missed it (which is about 99% of my readers), despite the fact it was bold and underlined, here is the question again: -

bakewell1

There, it wasn’t too tricky to miss, was it? Or were you too busy looking for spelling mistakes and “innacuracies”?

Right, for those of you who were on the blink, you’d probably of answered the same as Tilesey: and said Bakewell is famous for it’s tarts. You would of been wrong.

How do I know this? Well I went to Bakewell a few years ago, expecting to get a Bakewell Tart easily. You cannot. All you can get is a Bakewell Pudding. Bloody tasty too. You can even get them online now. The Bakewell tart that we are all familiar with was introduced by Mr. Kipling, and has fuck all to do with the town. The Bakewell Tart is more like a custard flan with jam in it, instead of covered with icing and with a cherry on top.

Now, the quizmaster does strike me as a man of knowledge. Even if he as very little contemporary knowledge (which is why we never win), but he seems learned, pulling questions from all over the place in very obscure areas. As such, when the above question came up, I thought “Hmmmm….Bakewell Pudding”. When the answers came up, and he said what I didn’t want to hear.

“It’s a bakewell tart. A bakewell tart.”

He likes to repeat things.

I was livid, it should be a mistake. Surely a well educated man such as him would see sense when I question his decision, he’d be willing to learn.

“Oi mate, don’t you know it’s a Bakewell Pudding, not a tart.”

“It’s a bakewell tart. A bakewell tart.”

“No no, let me explain. Mr. Kipling invented the bakewell tart, not the town of bakewell. They had a traditional bakewell pudding. They’re two different things.”

“It’s a bakewell tart. A bakewell tart is what bakewell is famous for.”

“Aha! But you said that “What is bakewell famous for producing?” I answered that question. They’ve never made a bakewell tart in bakewell ever! The only thing that bakewell has produced in the last 100 odd years is bakewell tart.”

“It’s a bakewell tart. A bakewell tart.”

I gave up. I reluctantly accepted defeat, I knew I was right, but he wasn’t having it. Which what made me so angy. I walked off, dejected, and muttering something about “Go stick your willy in a bakewell tart, cake or prostitute, you decide”. One last attempt at a compromise when he collected the sheets – “if I can prove it to you next week, can we have an extra point?”

“It’s a bakewell tart. A bakewell tart.”

I’m not letting it lie, I’m going to print off information on Bakewell Puddings and subtlely leave it lying around the bar. This is going to be as famous at Tom’s Scrabble Sheet (AKA: Fuck you Spud, I was right!). I’m angry, pissed and we got screwed in the quiz. We were doing well at the quiz too, though largely thanks to Sibley, who knew the name of the inventor of the Bouncing Bomb. He was in text contact, and I remember he did a presentation about it in A Level Physics. T’is amazing what you remember from school.

Any of you had a similar experience with quiz answers?

Righty ho, I’m off to Liverpool for a few days celebrating Tom’s 21st Birthday. A lot of alcohol will be drunk, so much so that if I’m still alive on Sunday, you can call me Superhuman.

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