Tag Archives: Henrik Knudsen
They Know the Croaking Chorus from The Frogs of Aristophanes
Even as the bedrooms at Bell End have been clogged to capacity with residents from as far away as Polynesia and as near as Washington Avenue, the social hub has been curiously quiet. Right? Almost as if Selwyn sent his … Continue reading
Look, Bellender, On This Island Now
The leaping light for your delight discovers, Stand stable here And silent be, That through the channels of the ear May wander like a river The swaying sound of the sea. This is where Selwyn’ll be next week; London, from … Continue reading
Henrik Renders Bell End Proper-Like
It has to be said. In all the self-induced tittering about life at Bell End, the same question comes up over and over. What the hell does it look like? What is it like to stay there? Or to shoot … Continue reading
The Faders
We put dimmers on the switches in the bedrooms. I called them faders, because I’m English and probably a bit stupid too. Me and Henrik did it. It was fucking great. Afterwards we nearly had sex. But it didn’t feel right, … Continue reading
If You Weren’t Licked, Maybe You Weren’t Worth Licking.
We are haunted by the clarion call for a post-mortem of last Thursday night’s Bell End happening. Haunted as in the song of the same name. Y’know, Sinead O’Connor soars over the first verse as if she was the Angel … Continue reading
