Thursday evening is an eventful one here for myself and possibly a celebration of British values. Something that happens (on varying days of course not everything happens on a thursday) from Lands end in the people’s republic of Cornwall all the way up to the very Scottish Shetland Islands in the far North East.
This is the age old practice of popping to your local pub with your mates, paying a pound, taking a sheet and a pen and spending two or three hours bickering over questions posed by a popular local guy acting as quiz master for the chance to win a sizable cash prize of between £50 – £250. Ladies and Gents welcome to the world of the pub quiz. Something that is rivaled only by Trivial Pursuit (or dispute) for its ability to divide and unite in equal almost simultaneous measure.
