Fenrir breaks free and time is ever of the essence

So I'm writing this from a state of bagstiv, which is what the danish have named wake up drunk, on a seedy sunday. So I will do my best to retain the utmost quality my blog is renowned for. But the good news is, gone are the days of fimbulwinter!..... which, according to Norse mythology is not so good eh? Our impending doom perhaps?

On a lighter note, my famous partial namesake wrote this prose about winter -

Listen. The minstrels sing In the departed villages. The nightingale, Dust in the buried wood, flies on the grains of her wings And spells on the winds of the dead his winter's tale. The voice of the dust of water from the withered spring

He was a much more grim character than I however, so Im glad winter is done and dusted and I can resume the task of trying to attain that world famous Danish tan.
Seen here-

cheer up Mads, the spring is here!

In Dylman related news there as been a many class taking, rugby training and food eating adventures, which by their own rights deserve a dedicated blog each, staffed by the Dux Litterarum from MIT and Cambridge. But nonetheless your imagination will suffice. So i leave you with pictures from the last 3 weekends which have been some of the biggest parties of each semester: Tour de bloc, chambre and several other innumerable, innominate fests.