Forthcoming Events at
December 24: Porcus Rex
the ever-popular Finnian McGurk
December 31: Janronjon
a new three-piece outfit
keyboard, guitar and vocals
January 7: the Next Grand Quiz
New Opening Hours at
Daily: until midnight,
with ½ hour drinking up
Friday and Saturday: until 1 a.m.,
with ½ hour drinking up
New Beginnings, Again
This is the age of miracles and wonders.
Not content with acquiring a whole new website name, we how find ourselves having to accommodate
several other New Ideas, some of which are quite hard to cope with:
But, as always, The Angel can, has and will cope with everything thrown at it, with an almost-human shrug of its
architectural shoulders and a gently exhaled, smiling-Paul-Jacques-like "What? Oh yeah!"
- the Tyranny of the Accountant:
which means there is no longer a Sunday Inter-Pub Quiz League, after all these years;
- the heavy tread of Nanny State:
with her impending Nursery Rules about Smoking;
- Tony "Il Papa" Ward's mafiosi Roots;
- The New Licensing Laws
which mean we can drink till the bottom falls out of the barrel,
but try and have an impromptu sing-song and the authorities will be down on you like a ton of bricks.
And here's how:
Some People Would Say ...
that the real reason for the demise of the very popular Sunday evening Quiz League is that certain accountants
have been far too busy buying up decent breweries, so that they can take over the name and the product labels, and then close them,
rather than paying attention to the needs of the genuine customers.
Angel customers, on the other hand, are not so easily duped by the idea that a product previously brewed in, say,
Abingdon, is going to taste the same when it is brewed, for sake of an example, in Bury St Edmunds.
Nor are they easily done out of their regular Quiz sessions: if the petty money-pushers won't help them play, they'll organise
their own quiz.
And so they did.
Kevin the Landlord writes:
Saturday 3 December 2005 saw our first pub quiz.
We had five teams of four take part, on the basis £1 per head, winning teams takes all.
Shock number 1: the PLUMB team did not win! Yes - shock horror - but it's true!
The winning team was Patrick, Sid, Julian and the landlady Paula with 39 points.
With the prize money in their hands, they bought a drink each and put the rest in the
First Responders charity box.
Second place went to the 3P's (yes, the Plumb team) with 34 points.
They were missing big bro Steve
(he was question master for the evening).
Third place went to Paul, Soo, Linda & Bernie with 25½ points.
Fourth place was The C******s Allsorts (as in Hazel, Alan, Mark and Emma) with 22 points.
Fifth place went to the team "ALWAYS LAST": well they scored five points, for getting the team name right.
They were Steve, Sue, Sam of our very own Mystic BONNER.
They actually got 20½ points.
Then there was the beer round!
The 3P's didn't win that either.
The ALLSORTS won that one (always rely on a Scotsman to win the free drink).
Many thanks to Steve Plumb for being Question Master. Note that there is another Quiz on 7 January.
Kill-Joy Government Attempts to Destroy Another Angel Tradition
Seemingly not content with sterilising all forms of rural identity in its attempt to make England outside the M25 conform to a Townie's vision of a
haven of solitude where, nevertheless, you can still buy your baguettes and Focaccia and sun-dried tomatoes, and where every newsagent stocks the
New Statesman, and no one is allowed to live unless they drive a Chelsea Tractor, the government has followed up its assault on individual liberties by
insisting that everyone MUST stay in a pub until they are legless and too tired to go to work next morning.
As Patrick "Porous" Currie was heard to comment:-
"Where's the fun in having a drink if you can't blag a pint or two after closing time?"
The new opening hours will mean that, never again will Mother's Latch Rattle echo gently up Angel Lane as a polite enquiry as to whether or not it might just be possible
to have a quick one before the washing up is finished.
No more will Tony Ward jive (sway?) gently to the bar in that suave manner of
his and ask genteely for "another pint, squire".
Gone are the days of the ex-Snapper, Darth Porter, looking enquiringly and longingly up at a hard-faced Bar Steward
in the hope of another half before he takes the dogs home.
So: no more hunting; not long left for smoking in public, and now, no after-hours drinking
(not that it ever really happened, Officer).
"What next?" I ask myself.
Well: Leonard Cohen wrote: "they'll put a meter on your bed ..."
and he's always been a fairly acute observer, so watch out ...
Meanwhile a very merry festive season to all my readers, and all the Angel Regulars.
Don't stay out too late, now!
Many and genuine thanks to all my contributors.
Don't forget, anybody can submit News by mailing me - and there's oodles of space to publish it.