So. The Spear Danes in days gone by and the kings that ruled them had courage and greatness. The Ogre, that mead hall held in high esteem, a fine house wherein to hear the tale of Grendel told on Woden’s day.
But aside from a fragment of Seamus Heaney’s translation of Beowulf, the oldest surviving English poem, what did we have? Forty plus people at the bottom of the stairs, stories, poetry and song. Neil and Alexa’s stuff I really liked, Alexa’s Cinderella and the big bad wolf is posted below somewhere. A fair number of dirty limericks, such as:
There once was a man from Kanass
Whose bollocks were made out of brass
in stormy weather
he’d clack them together
and lightning shot out of his ass
There was a young girl from Hanoi
Much hornier than any boy
She went to the florist
and met a sex tourist
whose butt she explored with a toy
Erica, Alexandra and Stephanos broke into song & music depsite Erica’s cold.
Stephanos had us passing the mic around and improvising verse to a song about Georgie Boy, who I think came to a bad end. And a good time was had by all.
If you’ve not seen it check out this clip from a film about George Whitman & Shakespeare & Co.
Photos from the night follow.