August 2002 - Sinister - missprint.org

Sinister: What was the greatest thing before sliced bread was invented?
by Gardiner, Stuart 20 Aug '02

20 Aug '02

Summer's almost over. Does anyone know where it goes? Distressingly, I have failed to make it to a single picnic this summer. Which on past experience makes them more enjoyable for everyone else, but reduces the average drunkenness. This Sunday, I'll be thinking of all of you in your red knickers. Except Ken. Time to join the bandwagon with a few ink polaroids. (If anyone knows what the hell a bandwagon is, or how you would actually go about joining one, please tell us, I've often wondered. Well, not exactly often, but ocasionally. It's not really the biggest question that keep me awake at night. But once or twice, at least.) ** This one is from the first time I saw B&S live - Manchester, Christmas '97. In between the two gigs they played on the Sunday. I'm walking around Manchester town centre with the first sinisterines I'd ever met, who insist on reminding me every few minutes that I'm a bit taller than them. Especially Julia. We've just noticed a big Ferris Wheel down one of the streets leading away from the Town Hall. From the top you can see right across Manchester. What joy. News item of the week: the Queen telling Alan Titchmarsh "You've given a lot of women a lot of pleasure". Really. ** This one was taken on one of the several times I have missed the last train home after a Sinister get-together. We're on the roof of the Poetry Cafe in London in summer '98. Just behind me are Isobel and Wee Chris. Mick's off somewhere with an ebulient admirer who was on this list at the time. You can't really see much else, because it was 2am and it was dark. I am also indebted to the Independent on Sunday for providing the following list of genuine bird names: the Bare-Faced Go-Away Bird, the Invisible Rail, the Double-Eyed Fig-Parrot, the Blue-Knobbed Curassow, the Oleaginous Mountain Tanager, the Obscure Berrypicker, the Carbonated Sierra Finch, the Rosy-Faced Lovebird, and my favourite, the Agile Tit-Tyrant. Of course, this has absolutely nothing to do with Belle and Sebastian (apart from giving them potential new lyrics), they just sound good. ** This one was taken in a park in South-East London. Lying on the grass, next to the kiddies' playground. On the left you can see Stevie Trousers getting along well with an Irish lass. And trying to get on even better with her. It's a bit blurry, because I was ratarsed. As I have got older, I thought music had lost it's power to amaze me, to blow me away. Then, late last Friday night, I was watching an Elvis tribute program on BBC1, featuring the likes of Liberty X and Darren Hayes doing appalling covers of his songs. Suddenly, the Flaming Lips appear; and do a half-tempo, psychadelic cover of "Suspicious Minds". One of the most bizarre things I've heard in ages, and hence, one of the best. ** This one was taken outside the Spread Eagle in Camden, after a particularly beery afternoon on Primrose Hill. Actually, it's not quite outside the Spread Eagle, because we'd been kicked off the pavement for making too much noise. So it's on the pavement opposite instead. Rob has just pulled out his guitar, and we're all singing along to Modern Rock Song. Shortly after this was taken, a person walking past said "Hey, you're Belle and Sebastian" and asked for an autograph. Second news item of the week: the president of Turkmenistan, one week after renaming all the months of the year after himself and his family, has now issued an edict officially extending adolescence to the age of 25, and postponing old age until 85 (a mere 25 years after the average life-expectancy in his country). And you thought George Bush was insane. ** This one was taken on the beach in Scarborough last summer. Most of the people you can see are trying desperately to play it cool and pretend they're not bothered about the fact that they're talking to members of B&S. Meanwhile, I'm digging a hollow in the sand to stand in so that I can speak to Katrina without bending over too much. Still to come: ink polaroids from B&S playing a gig at The Globe Theatre in London (go on, you know you want to), and at next year's Glastonbury... Big Stu Current favourite song of the year: 'Royal In The Afternoon' from the new Whitlams album (you didn't think I'd let you forget them, did you?). The kind of song B&S should be writing and getting into the Top 10 with. Go download it now... +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: "Watch us wreck the mic, psych."
by Miss Marianna Longmire 19 Aug '02

19 Aug '02

Where Marianna complains like an old woman. apologies in advance. It was one of those really hot London afternoons, so I tucked my little folding chair under my arm, sat in my backyard and read in the sun. Which was lovely, really, until my serenity was disturbed by my neighbour - the devil in a fish net muscle shirt - and his appalling musical selection. You may remember I once told a story about my neighbour playing a selection of great tunes out his window and onto the streets below. And how this was great, and I loved it because it made this fenced-off street feel like a little community. Well, I've since changed my mind. He is, officially, the fifth most odious person I have ever had the misfortune to know. Primarily, because he conducts ALL his conversations as if he were yelling, and his musical choice has moved from the wonderful Destiny's Child to playing rubbish Euro-trance tunes so loud I /literally/ can't hear myself speak. He is the bane of my existence and he makes me want to kill things. But, you'll be pleased to hear, I wasn't going to take this abuse any longer. I was gonna kick his ass the only way I knew how. Musically. And so began the Hackney Stereo Battle-Off Royale! Who will win this clash of the Titans? King: Hot dang! The ref's whistle has barely blown, and the neighbour has brought out the big guns, playing MousseT's "I'm Horny." Longmire doesn't stand a chance against a player of this calibre. Cole: But wait! She's reaching for her CD collection, what album do you think she'll choose? She's going for Ladytron, but no it's BRAINSTORM! BRAINSTORM! BRAINSTORM! King: Wow, that's a smart move from Longmire; the neighbour is on the floor in agony! It seems Eurovision 2000's runners up are positively SLAYING him with their indie-lite stylings. This match is ove. hang on, what's this? Retaliation? Cole: I can't believe it! He's actually managed to make it up again like an 80-year-old on Viagra and OUCH! He's playing The Vengaboys! King: Oof, that's gotta hurt. But Longmire seems undeterred. In fact she's laughing as her volume dial goes up to 35. What's she gonna do to him?! Cole: Oh! My! God! It's DAPHNE AND CELESTE! King: HE'S GOING DOWN! And so, I won. For about ten minutes, after which my celebratory cup of Earl Grey started to tremble as the opening refrains of DJ Otzi's "Hey Baby" came bellowing from the flat above. And, like all good Australians, I cursed. And, like all good Australians, I couldn't actually be arsed to do anything more about it. So I sat in my room and played the entire B+S (content!) back catalogue at a rather more reasonable volume, and danced, and wrote, and pondered. And a niggling thought came back to me and poked me in the eye. I hate my name. Rather, I hate the fact that my name hasn't (to my knowledge) been used in a song. Oh sure, all you Lisas and Janes and flipping Belles get a mention, but just once I would like my name to be used in a song. Or even a television show. Fact: I once wrote a fan letter to the chief script writer of Neighbours, hoping that somehow, he would become so enamoured with my name that he'd introduce a new character to the show, just so he could call her Marianna. And then, you know, she'd get it on with Kristian Schmidt. And it would be like we were dating. Or something. But, NO! My dreams were never realised. And I was forced to watch my sister Caroline jump about in glee to Shaggy's "Oh Carolina", bragging about how great she was as her name was in the top forty. I mentioned the misspelling, but she never seemed to listen, so I just punched her and went off to read her secret love letters. Of course, this whole egotistical issue of wanting my name in a song could perhaps be traced back to a brief period of being ostracised in primary school. This wasn't because I joined the boys' dungeons and dragon club, and it wasn't because I refused to smoke after school in the all-ages playground simply because it sounded far too much like a rebellion cliché. No, I was on the outer because the hippest thing you could have in your pencil case was a ruler with your name PROFESSIONALLY written on it. And of course, 'Marianna' was deemed far too obscure for the manufacturers to bother. Bastards. I can't tell you the pain it used to cause me seeing all my friends with their gleaming plastic named rulers, whilst I had to do with a 30 cent wooden ruler. Although, granted, I did jazz it up with 'Marianna loves Corey Haim for eva!' And 'Madonna rules!' etchings made by my compass. Still, mustn't grumble. On #sinister chat there was talk about the Beckham's insistence on naming their children after where they were conceived. I would be called Barrabarrup Longmire. Now try finding THAT on a ruler. xx Miss Marianna. PS. Sarah is /so/ right. Red Shoes are the greatest things in the world. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: it's not just candles that are aflame
by Gordon 19 Aug '02

19 Aug '02

Stuart Murdoch Saves Damsel in Distress! Hey kids, he was there in an instant, a flash! Camera Obscura were mid-set at Edinburgh's *The Venue* this evening, sweet tunes all of them: good enough to sing to yer grannie as, indeed, Ms. Tracyanne (?) announced she was... anyway, it was all harmony and magnificent bass playing until one particularly boorish lass, who'd been heckling all the other bands with unchoice and bellicose drivel reached a point in her battle plan (her head went 'kerlunk', possibly) and decided now was the occasion to experiment with projectiles. I was standing pretty much next to the stage but only noticed the aftermath of what we must assume was a direct hit as the music stopped, chanteuse stormed off stage (a dignified retreat, actually) and the now sodden lyrics to a new number lay scattered by her mike stand and... ENTER Mr.Murdoch, from the rear of the auditorium, all efficient gusto as he demanded the immediate expulsion of the boor from the premises. 'We were just going anyway' she blared petulantly (sorry,only one 'l' this time Ms.Llew: you'd have been dismayed by this lassie's lack of wit or comportment) as she was let to leave amongst much jeering and muttering of 'poor show' or words to that effect. Thankfully, and to general applause, the Camera Obscura returned onstage to delight us with a rendition of 'I want to go home'. Apt under the circumstances, for them, but we didn't, because their music was fine. Fine! Yes it was. The next sighting of the Belle and Sebastian man (content, see, although I'm beginning to struggle, albeit in a twee key) is outside the venue; The Venue as he is returning from a white van parked around the corner there to fulfil it's role as receptacle; vessel; indeed, *chora* for musical gear. I catch his eyes and he looks completely human, but I'm no stalker, really, so I avert my eyes towards a handy car bonnet: a neat vehicle in dark blue, as far as memory and sodium streetlighting permits me to describe it, which happens to be owned by a member of... Camera Obscura. Anyway, I'm admiring this automobile in the abstract as Stuart stops behind me to while away some moments in semi-English with a couple of Japanese tourists who recognise him. Pop star, sound man, bouncer, general cultural ambassador... Meanwhile, for this bonnet also has multiple talents, Michael and I have taken to displaying Camera Obscura merchandise on it: two petite and desperately un-ironed T-shirts, a box of CD singles and a few copies of their latest album for a tenner a throw (but don't throw them!). Michael is capitalising on his experience as a record shop employee to offload what becomes a grand total of three items. I, on the other hand, put my experience as an offloader of capital to use in purchasing one of said three items: it's a shiny new copy of 'Your Sound'. It doesn't have *your* sound on it Carey (occasional sinisterine and now 'synthesiser woman' of Camera Obscura): we'll have to wait for the next single for that. Sinister birthdays. Sunday's the day, is it? I remember my first red knicker day a couple of years ago .I'd just arrived back from a short trip to Greece. After a picnic in Greenwich park, I'd eventually made it back to my hotel room: an absurdly opulent affair; all swagged velvet, brocade and watered silk, rented cheap off the internet. It was late at night. Very late, and I was all tired and emotional and playing with fire of various sorts, the most obvious manifestation of which was the flaming end of a rolled up copy of that day's *Times*, as I attempted to conjure up a further greeny-blue flame from a by now dribbling teaspoonful of absinthe-soaked sugar. To be honest, it was all getting rather out of control in the pyrotechnics, but I was moping over the fact that no-one had actually got to *see* my red underwear (Sloggi, in case you were wondering). The briefs were vintage then, and have since been consigned to the dustbin. I can only attend navy knicker days now. Tonight I haven't been indulging in anything so potent as absinthe. In fact, contrary to what folks might think, my posts of late have been written in a state addled by no more than a bewilderment as to why I'm writing words at all rather than, say, watching television or shopping for... red knickers. Cigarillos are my poison of late. I bought two little card boxes of them from a tobacconist's on the Lawn Market before the gig this evening: Zino 'Sumatras' and -pricey these- 'Hoyo de Monterreys'. The shopkeeper kindly provided me with a mini and mobile humidor in the form of a self-sealing plastic bag, especially seeings as the latter brand tend to dry up rather quickly. As usual, it's the posh stuff (real Cuban tobacco) that has the shortest shelf-life. 'Burning twice as bright but half as long' to paraphrase Rutger Hauer in Blade Runner, although if you pursue that analogy with any enthusiasm you'll find it perplexing in that I was alluding to the longevity of the cigarillo in the unlit state. Anyway (you'll forgive my using the word 'anyway' rather a lot, along with colons, semi-colons (mostly inappropriately and, indeed, interchangeably) parentheses, qualifications, meanderings... ellipses and -the real killers, these- other words and figures of which I am, but you will not be, unaware). Anyways (bleh!) when not imbibing alcohol these sumatras and monterreys kick quite a punch. Ahem. One becomes distinctly high. During this evening's music I felt light as air and, even though my feet were aching with all the standing up, the rest of me was flying. A pleasant, quite delicately narcotic, sensation. That is until afterwards, when with no music or company to buoy me up I crashed back down into a small crater of the soul. It took me a whole train journey to get back on track (groan). Maybe I was tired, too: still subconsciously engineering the state of being 'tired and emotional'. Still, it didn't last long: it must have been a quality bit of misery. So, I'll take my cue from Stevie Trousers' brilliant post to end this one with some brief thoughts. Actually, I've already done that bit (groan, apologies etc.). So, I'll take my cue from Stevie Trousers' brilliant post to end this one with some thoughts about what sinister has meant to me over these past few years. It's become a big part of my life. I've bought all the Belle and Sebastian albums. I rarely listen to them (only kidding, almost). It keeps me up at night (it's 03:31: whoever suggested posting takes fifteen minutes is either very clever to write with such speed and cogency or is spouting nonsense. Perhaps they avoid words like 'cogency', which has me, at least, reaching for the dictionary to double-check, but I like to maintain an expanding vocabulary). Sinister posts are often what I wake up to, in the absence of a woman to keep me entertained with sexy chit chat before breakfast. I spend longer than is healthy on #sinister, but it's been a great source of companionship to me. I love you lot. And for those of you in the more far flung reaches of sinisterland; those of you who do not regularly get the chance, for whatever reason, to attend 'picnics' and who may be forgiven for thinking some of us are really cliquey and have all the fun making private allusions to one another: I've found that the real revelations; the most affecting stories; perhaps even the truest of friendships, are those that have been cultivated and remain by means of the content sent to this here mailing list. Honey has done a marvellous thing by setting up and maintaining a mailing list with a unique atmosphere and whilst the rest of us make sinister what it is on a daily basis, it was Honey's genius to mould it so. I realise I don't need to tell you this, but it's my own pre-amble to saying THANK YOU HONEY! There. I can bugger off to annoy the Americans on #sinister now. Gordon x +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: San Fran only
by Chris Cobb 19 Aug '02

19 Aug '02

I'm very sorry to bother everyone with this.. but is there a San Francisco specific sublist? I know some areas have their own. (like the midwest!) If so I'd apprecaite anyone that could put me in touch. I'm moving out to the area from Chicago next week and I'd love the advice of all of you out there. I need advice on where to live and potentially a roommate. Again, I know this is very bad for me to do this, I apologize. ~Chris~ __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? HotJobs - Search Thousands of New Jobs http://www.hotjobs.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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None
by marc bots 19 Aug '02

19 Aug '02

dear sinister i was going to send you an email about the haldern festival last week, but then i read dimitra's brilliant post and that said it all, really. and then anakin pointed out some things that made sense too, though i did enjoy b&s. the setlist was better than rotterdam, the sound was not as good as rotterdam, and the rotterdam gig was somehow more relaxed. meeting people that love b&s is a strange thing: for a long time they were my personal musical secret. and then you go to a festival and meet people that love them too, or more, and know much more and have seen them a thousand times. and your little secret is no more. it's good that all the people i met were extremely nice and sweet, and the feeling that people that love b&s share something, no matter where they are, became very real. seeing oliviers t-shirt in haldern made me remember something, and yesterday at my partents i checked it out and i was right: when my mother was young she got the single of the belle and sebastian tv-show. she still had it, and apparantly (i only remember very vaguely) i loved the first song on it, it's called belle. very sweet, probably a child's voice, and some guitar strumming. the sound was horrible, all cracks and hiss. next time i'll bring a guitar to my parents and learn to play the song. there was also a song called belle and sebastian on the record, but that wasn't as good, and didn't have any singing in it. big hello to everyone i met in haldern, especially the girlies. and dimitra, i would sing a song with you any day. love, marcbots SEND! +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: All I need is a pretty song or maybe two
by Matilda Liljedahl 19 Aug '02

19 Aug '02

Hello you strangers that I don't know but somehow like anyway I read Matthews post from 10:th July. Id saved it because of the subject line (All I need is a pretty song) and Id forgotten it till now. I liked that line because thats how I feel. Often things seems pointless and depressing, but one good song can sometimes change my mood. Then Im happy although something keeps telling me that songs are not reality and to be really happy you have to find things in reality that makes you feel glad. Anyway I was happily surprised by this post because the contents were just as good as the subject line, or maybe not good because it describes a person that thinks like I do, and that's not only a good thing. I think that nothing will ever really change or be better. It is easy to feel that way and Ive never really succeeded in persuading myself to be optimistic instead. There have been a lot of big changes through history but there have always been weaknesses in everything and when some things get better other thing automatically get worse. Still I struggle to change the world, to make things fairer and to make it possible for people to be themselves without being treated badly. To change things is actually the meaning of my life, and still I doubt about if thats possible. Its a bit hard actually. And sometimes all I need is a pretty song And maybe a piece of chocolate too. I think it would be better for me to just don't care. Sometimes I wish I was more irresponsible. I also have to comment something more shallow but still important. Idleberry wrote something about not knowing what to wear to fishnet tights, but hey, you could wear anything. Theres nothing easier to combine with other clothes than fishnet tights, especially the black ones. Now Im hungry and have to leave this room to make my way out to the kitchen. Keep smiling if you can. Love/Matilda _________________________________________________________________ MSN Hotmail är världens populäraste e-posttjänst. Skaffa dig ett eget konto du också: http://www.hotmail.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: This is just a Morden (via Charing X) song
by kenneth.chu＠uclh.org 19 Aug '02

19 Aug '02

It's been a while..... This is just a modern mock song ======================== Andrew tried to run away, He sent a post across to listees, He'd gone off of the rants and poems, He didn't like the sound of them. Gig info he didn't get any, He stuck his pitchfork in the air, He wanted contents set out in plain, I suppose he needs a holiday. I put my arm around her waist, She had on an I love Ken Chu badge, She didn't recognise my face, I wasn't even bad looking. Laura's feeling just ideal, Her posts are nearly always perfect, She's thinking of something to do, Because G is The Birthday Boy. We walked up to the top of hills, We were going drinking in the park, We were hitting Gareth on the head, We've got a lot in common. I'll leave them to do what they want, I'll leave them to do what they need to, I'll go and play with words and polaroids, I'll admit I'm feeling strange. [instrumental] I'm not as sad as Star Trek Fans, I'm not as funny as Big Train, I'll only read a post for the way it looks, And then I prolly go on chat again. Now I could tell you who my crush is, But it never seems to do you good, It's beyond me what a girl can't see, I'm only lucid when I'm writing posts. I am just a boy from Hong Kong, I am just as thick as cement, We're fourteen hundred boys (and girls) in corduroys, We're not terrific but we're competent. Stevie's full of good pantaloons, Richards into J 'n' G, Big Stu's staying in and he thinks it's a sin, That he has to leave the house at all. <instrumental> This is just a huge sick posse, of f**ked in the head psycho-fans, I count 15 minutes and then we start to slow, Because a post has got to stop somewhere. <Tingly organ sound....> Love and Red Bulls Ken P.S.:Ner Ner my girlfriend hates me and I hate her too, should I snog her? Grr people keep treating me unfairly why don't they understand!!!! P.S.2.:Sorry, I better stop posting in the style of Arab Strap. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: Sunday, Red Knickers Sunday
by Reggie Whitecastle 19 Aug '02

19 Aug '02

Friends, While all of you will be celebrating Sinister's 5th anniversary together, cozy, in far-off places, I, too, will be silently celebrating over here in West Virginia in the good ol' US of A, all by myself. Although, of course, I do not plan to be very silent. Maybe I'll crank up the music and get loud and rowdy for once. My pets aren't likely to appreciate it, but certainly they'll understand. I was very much moved by Stevie Trumptour's post--even though I am a "newbie" I really am getting a feeling for how much Sinister means to everyone, and it's definitely forming a place in my heart, too! So, in the spirit of the latest Sinister trend, here are a few ink polaroids of my own: This one's a bit hazy and underdevloped. In the photo I have long hair hanging in my face and I am wearing my favorite wedding shorts. In the background stands my sister with cake all over her face and her husband grins, laughing, he too covered in cake. It's a cake fight! This one isn't so old, but when I look at it it brings back a very unfamiliar nostalgia. It's a picture of my ex-wife, asleep on the couch, in front of the television. It looks like Family Matters, or some other old show... yes, I can distinctly see Urkel in the background. Out of the corner of the photo you can see a mysterious hand.. it's my hand! Holding a feather, about to tickle my ex-wife's nose and stir her awake. There aren't a lot of photos of us after this one was taken. This one is quite recent. It's a picture of my two iguanas, Yoko and John, on the floor next to my stereo. Very close to them lays a copy of "If You're Feeling Sinister." Yoko and John don't think this is anything new because the album has been playing on the stereo for months practically. Marianna Longmire mentioned me in her post, and I was so excited to get a mention I practically started to blush. Do I smell a crush vote? Toodles! Reggie __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? HotJobs - Search Thousands of New Jobs http://www.hotjobs.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: what do mean the bank is out of money
by Jonathan Skinner 18 Aug '02

18 Aug '02

hello sinister how is every little thing I hope this finds everyone well. I suppose i should first of all put some content in . Actully i can't think of any. Apart from the fact that are nice. there i hope you are all happy. *here i am at a wedding in an 80's style hotel on a lake. I am sat here at a big round table with a few cousins that i get on with watching the groom and his party croon the bride who is sat at the centre of the eternally empty dance floor with westlife* I think i may have mentioned earlier how much i hate weddings . Well i must now emphasise it with a capital H followed by a A closely followed by T tailed by a E . I was at my cousins wedding in Ballina yesterday and i can honestly say i have never ever ever been so bored in my life. We hada 2 hour car journey from where we were staying in Galway up this road that was apparntly the "main" road but was actully a country lane. After finally arriving we had a breakfast roll so so far the day wasn't too bad. THEN is went down heel from there. Got to the place of worship a KH(anybody?) if you will , and i didn't know anyone there. Except for my cousins that i get on with from one area of the family. After the service and we had gone up to congratulate the bride and groom we went to this dive of a country hotel where we had pretty plain food. THe only redeaming feature of the entire wedding was the grroms fathers ( my uncles ) speech. It managed to get the phrase " my wife and i got married and for 7 years nothing happened" and then he managed to get the word conception and birth canal into the next sentence which was rather nice and embarrasing. THe reception was dull with not many people and a MC that was trying hard to work with what little he had. AAAAANNNNNNNNNYYYYYYYYYWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY the high point of my entire trip away wasWednesday. We went up to the cliffs of moher from galway and took the long long long way home which was nice. it was nice and sunny and stuff but there were many many tourists ( including someone from this list if i remember rightly- however i looked around and saw no tee shirts) the cliffs are really mad cos there is only a few hundred metres of them before the land scape goes back to normal. THere is one death a month into this 1000 ft drop. There is also a farm right next to the cliffs with cows grazing- i just wonder how many die each year- cows that is Another purpose of this email is to ask this. Guided by voices. are they worth seeing. they are playing cork this month and i wonder if it is worth picking up tickets. Um right i actully have run out of things to say but i will leave you with quote " women should never be so accurate about their age. IT looks too calculating " goodnight and godspeed j i can top shannon- this post was crafted in crafty way of 24 hours and it is none the btter for it , i am just a lazy lazy man +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: Letter from the Core of the Sun
by shannon eckardt 18 Aug '02

18 Aug '02

Dear Sinisterines! Its been so long! I feel like the lost sheep returning to its fold! RED KNICKER DAY EXTRAVAGANZA Just to let you know: I, for one, will be participating in Red Knicker Day. Although, I will be the only one to do so in Arizona, where pants are practically outlawed between the months of May and September. I am suitably insane enough, however, to a) tread the thin line between heatstroke and hypothermia, and b) be the only participant in my region. Phoenix is the sort of place where individuality is glaringly obvious, and gawked at. Which satisfies my insatiable need to shock, and makes the idea of being the sole Red Knicker bearer in the Valley quite appealing. Of course, if it were up to me, Id make it a national holiday. Not enough holidays in this country, really. I mean, we dont even have a Bank Holiday, or anything like Boxing Day. I find myself buying international calendars and privately celebrating Ascension Day. Its a lonely job. OBSESSIONS So. Have you ever found yourself obsessing on, sayerm.okay, a person who is quite different from you? Lets just call him, um, mormon-boy. Opposites attract, right? Okay, so unfortunately I cant control who Im attracted to. That would be nice. In Shannons world its a distinct possibility, and a perk. But were not in Shannons world. (also, in said world, feather boas and sequins would be added to Red Knicker Day, as an augmentation). So..moving on..this boy (groan) doesnt swear, and doesnt smoke. Ugh! Hes a *nice* boy. He hasnt expressed any immediate displeasure at the fact that I do both, in profusion. Not only am I a chain *smoker*, Im a chain *swearer*, as well, Ive discovered. Im quite smutty, actually. From time to time. But earlier this week I caught a dim glimpse of a swearless, smokeless future, and it was dismal, let me tell you. So, I called off the wedding in my head and moved back toward reality. I think it was a good move. I said, Fuck this! Ha! it was a liberating statement, to be sure. It is only natural to swear. When its 115 outside, naughty words come to mind easiest, when youre moved to speak. But, in the true spirit of obsession, for one evening of friendly billiards rivalry, I conducted an experiment - tenuously, but with determination. I decided to replace all the nasty words (that, lets face it, fairly itch to come out when youre doggedly playing pool) with the word, crumb. For example, when you choke on the eight ball for the second time leaving your opponent with a perfectly aligned shot for the side pocket, you would say, Oh, crumb! instead of Oh, m**herf**cker! You might imagine how well this worked out. In short, it didnt. But I did discover what a dirty mouth I have. And since I almost immediately rescinded my sincere efforts to clean up, and be a good little girl, I have gone to the opposite end of the spectrum, and decided to be as creative as possible with my colorful language. I wont repeat my creations. But they were good, if I do say so myself. DEIFICATION (not to be confused with defecation; there is a distinct difference, after all) Theres another boy (of course), and he truly is the saviour. He works at a record store, as is appropriate for a contemporary saviour. He just burned me a copy of his own Badly Drawn Boys How Did I Get Here? which is quite an expensive CD round these parts, and damn-near impossible to find. AND..he burned me a copy of a B&S boot..er. Well, lets just say, not many folks have this one. (If youd like to hear it yourself, send me an email off-list.) Oooo, hes a doll! Something about that jet-black hair and wavy green tattoos Well. (cough). Anyway. You can see why Im moved to the idea of deification. I figure Ill declare a day of celebration, much like the previously proposed, Celebrate Your Gods! Day, except it will be just for the Record Store Saviour. Ill commission marble busts out of blue-veined Carrara marble and affix a diadem on his forehead, just like Caesar! I *did* mention I was given to excess, didnt I? Right. Well, maybe Ive gone too far, this time. But sometimes I think Im a genius ;-) SPEAKING OF GENIUS.. I had this brilliant idea, at about lunch time. See, I sit in my car sometimes at lunch, after my Red Bull run, to smoke and listen to music, and generally avoid the madding crowds. So, Im sitting in my Beetle (her name is Gita; I was sure you wanted to know that) listening to Wandering Alone, reveling in the smooth magic of Stevies voice, laughing like an escaped lunatic, and it occurred to me, that Gita would look *fine* with a small disco ball hanging from her ceiling. The gentleman who happened to be sitting next to me (hes another post altogether) assured me that he could arrange the electrical wiring so that it would sparkle, and that the natural movement of air in the car would make it spin, charmingly. It was a moment of temporary insanity. Suddenly I had visions of glow in the dark stickers littering the plush interior, and a fondue pot sizzling in the trunk, to be shared with friendly strangers at the drop of a hat. For the sake of convenience, my glove compartment would house neatly arranged condiments, and aesthetically arranged napkins. I have my moments. I dont think this was one of them. MAKE IT THIS FAR, DID YOU? Oh, so many clever posts to comment on. I think I wont. I think Ill summarize: Ive enjoyed the sudden resurgence of Ink Polaroids. Theyre quite vivid. And the gratitude round here is astounding. HONEY, love, you are revered! Ken Chus delicious wit is never amiss. And Gordon, I love your verbose soul! Never a dull moment in my Inbox, I tell you! Asm, you are *truly* my hero - your CD revival package is posted and somewhere over Nova Scotia, RIGHT NOW! Im off! To bed! Its late - or early. This is what I get for drinking too many Red Bulls. Sini-Love to All! S. p.s. Fifteen minutes? Pah! Ive spent hours crafting this. _________________________________________________________________ Join the worlds largest e-mail service with MSN Hotmail. http://www.hotmail.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister(a)missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo(a)missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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