Last Night's ABCtales Bash

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Last Night's ABCtales Bash

I don’t know how everyone else felt, but I thought it was a bit of a poor turnout last night. However, it was a well organised event and a thoroughly enjoyable time was had by the two of us who did show. We both enjoyed the evening immensely.

We read our chosen pieces to an almost empty house (well, to each other really) and both received a standing ovation, which was very encouraging. I read my poem ‘theyallrightcrapsowhyshouldn’ti?’ which is a particularly heart-warming and poignant piece, composed of a combination of teenage angst and mid-life crisis, and I don’t think I’m crossing the line here by questioning why this hasn’t yet received a cherry. ‘theyallrightcrapsowhyshoudn’ti?’ has indeed received international acclaim from Denni in Edinburgh, my mate Paco in New York and a bunch of French students who I read it to on the tube one night when I was pissed.

The other ABCtaler present read some excellent excerpts from his latest book, and I must say that anyone who doesn’t download this is missing out on a treat.

Things got a bit messy after that, if I remember correctly, and it’s probably best to draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the evening …..

Was this an official ABCTAles bash or did you organise this yourself?
For anyone who isn't familiar with our Mr Wriggle, em, l mean Wiggins, he's allowed out occasionally if he takes the correct medication a la Nurse Scratchitt. Bless him ..
Care in the community, babe, care in the community. I was a nervous wreck with the thought of walking into a room full of strangers and giving a reading. In a way I'm glad it wasn't that well-attended. Now, however, I'm thinking I may have a career as a Performance Poet.

 

ABSOLUTELY!!! And you, Denni Denni Den, you wee Scottish Bam-pot, you!

 

I truly believe that I’ve stripped ‘theyallrightshitesowhyshouldn’ti?’ down to the absolute essence of thought and feeling. The poem itself has been carefully constructed to evoke a certain response, the emotion coming from the performance poet and the response evoked in the audience. This poem may well go on to equal Homer’s Odyssey, and the French students who were previously singing Frère Jacques on the train felt that it could be extremely important and influential in shaping Western culture in the future. So how come I haven’t got a cherry for it?

 

What was this party and why wasn't I invited?!
Honeybun, did you deliberately miss out zeitgeist, schaden'fraud', post-modernity and the eclectic isms plus Archer style appeal to the embedded sense of countryside medieval protectionism from your opera, tut, no wonder you're left in the orchestra pit. *Wanders off in a bewildered haze of newly blossomed hawthorne' Mine's a tonic water. xxxxxxxxxxxx

 

I think Karl has been at the funny juice again - there was no event!
Lenchenelf, you make a very valid point. I don't even think I deserve the orchestra pit. No wonder I didn't get a cherry. I should be placed in the stocks and be forced to listen to a medley of David Cameron's speeches whilst fellow ABCtalers throw tomatoes, yogurt and oranges at me.

 

Sod throwing it at you, with a little minced chilli, garlic and seasoning, that would make a rather nice dip! xxxxx

 

I tooooold yoooo's ... (he's now being harnessed into his straight jacket) 'There there, Mr Wiggling, sorry, Wiggins. That's you ready for the doctor now'.
Doctor Walrus has entered the room.
I was there too. Half the crowd thought I was shouting abuse. The other person left before I finished. It was my performance poem. I'm misunderstewed.

 

What a night! In fact I've only just got in. The club was fantastic, the music lively and the entertainment risque! Well in Kings Cross what do you expect. The highlight for me was when Karl ( somehow) got his left leg behing his neck, stood on his hands and then drank a pint of bombadier whilst eating fifty hard boiled eggs. That is something that will live with me forever! Thank you karl.

 

I performed several delicate operations, but after drinking five gallons of Stella I couldn't remember what they were, and I ended up lying in a dark alleyway singing a song about Pixies.
Oh that was you walrus? I thought it was Bryan Ferry ( who was there by the way but had far too much to drink and started singing Virginia Plain in his underpants).

 

By the way Karl, you poetry really is shite!

 

I thought he was singing Golden Vagina from the roll-up baccy advert.....
So who really was there? Only one of the above people is telling the truth, well me as well I suppose, so that makes two. And Tony, The Star of Kings in King's Cross may be one to put on your list of possible venues. Easy 5-minute walk from King's Cross and St. Pancras, so people from ooop t'north could make it too, and it's certainly got a big enough back bar and stage; http://www.starofkings.co.uk/bookings/ Jolono, you have no idea what you're doing to my confidence. I'm going to post one more poem, which I expect to be an effort of genius and then I'm leaving this site for good.

 

You still here?

 

Good riddance .. an so say olovus ha ha Dx
A song about Pixies, Walrus? If it was my Puddle Pixies you were singing about, where are my royalties? And mines a G&T ice and lemon. Linda

Linda

No, Linda, you've got the wrong end of the stick, it was a very very VERY naughty song about Pixies that I can only remember when I'm blind, paralytic drunk. And the drinks are on Karl, it's his round. Where's he gone? Oh, he's climbing out of the toilet window.....
.....never mind, Jolono and Denni have rugby tackled him on the car park and pinched his wallet. He's paying for scratchings and crisps and dry roasted nuts as well, by the way.
Right, this is my absolute last post, and then I'm gone for good. I've just come back from climbing one of the tower cranes, but I forgot to throw myself off, so I'll probably do that tomorrow. Comments like the above can be deeply hurtful to a quiet, impressionable young lad like myself. ABCtales is my life. I miss all of you already. If I can’t be a performance poet then there’s nothing else in the world I long for. My tears are starting to show, creating wounds on my skin and my smile is fading away, but I will turn my sadness into wind. One day you’ll all be sorry, but when I die don’t come near my body for my hand won’t be able to wipe your tears away. That’s all I have to say on the matter Except that although my fellow ABCtalers may not love me anymore, although you may not care, if you shall ever need me, you know that I'll be there. Your love may all be taken, your heart may not be free, but when your heart is broken, you can always lean on me. I’ll never stop loving you, I know because I have tried. All the oceans in the world can’t hold the tears I've cried. (That rhymes, doesn’t it?)

 

Nurse Nurse .. the Wigwam's loose again!!
I saw you climbing the crane, Karl. Why were you wrapped in half a ton of bubble wrap?
Do real actual events occur with real writing people? Do you have to be a member for over 18 months and undergo initiation rites to attend?

 

No, and yeah ..
The initiation rites are only for the strong stomached, Vera. You've seen I'm A Celebrity, yeah? We put you in the jungle and you have to eat Ant and Dec with no ketchup or salt and vinegar.
I'm not strong enough.I gag on pork scratchings.

 

Would that be the tower crane with no lights on karl? You just can't get the safety officers anymore...

 

The one the helicopter nearly hit?

 

You've made a come-back already? Karl Sinatra ..
He's cloned himself, spiked him and his twin's hair and called himself Karlward.
Now I'm definitely leaving. This is my very last post.

 

You can't, my daughter wants to go to your concert.
Is that all anybody cares about? I love you all, yet all Harpie wants is my ABCTales mug! That's it, I'm leaving.

 

There's the door .. get oot !!
"You're fired!" Is that the last word?

 

Can I have your Naughty Nuns on Building Sites jazz mags, the ones you hide under your choccies, Karl, mine are all stuck together.
Be my guest.

 

What about the naughty midget and Shetland pony porn?