"we were more fey than a box full of pink bunnies."
why do I have that sentence in my head? I've done
Google searches and sinister searches, and still I
can't find it.
if anyone knows, please mail me.
love,
lem
p.s. when I hear the line about "the Easter House" I
think about a children's book in German I think I read
once called "esterhazy" about a bunny, because I like
the sound of it.
p.p.s. bunnies have twitchy noses.
-the end-
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Web Hosting - Let the expert host your site
http://webhosting.yahoo.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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
i told richard i didn't know as whom i should post.
i am still lost on that, and i feel old and
out-of-practice, that sheep who strayed just far
enough from the flock to be a member still, but not
part of the whole.
ya'll be hooked up now, and here i am, as hopeful as
ever, i suppose, but with a thousand different
identities and not one i can grasp.
huh.
looks like i'm to be me after all.
***
i wrote a poem once about tiles on a bathroom floor.
how, if you look at them long enough with an unfixed
gaze, the grout lines between sort of dissolve. eyes
playing tricks on the seer, i guess; at least it
happens to me. i was in the same tiled bathroom
tonight, the same one i wrote about, and i looked for
a minute or two at the tiles, thinking how perhaps all
life is like a tiled floor, small separate pieces held
together in this great chalky mass of solidarity. and
it looks new and even when freshly grouted; then,
after a while, the grout wears away, the pieces look
disjointed and some of them just fall away.
i'd like to think the moments i have, though, are not
uniformly shaped and spaced. though my grouted base is
measurable and ending, my moments aren't, shall we
say, communistic in nature.
they are not all equal. but they are not all less
important.
***
when the boy got to my apartment last night i was
searching my drawers for a pair of knee socks. argyle,
to be sure. but the brown and orange didn't fit, for
some odd reason, so i went with the gray and white,
big, high-contrast diamonds curving around my calves
-- i felt conspicuous.
all the recent talk of patterned stockings has gotten
me thinking about my unmentionables drawer: hot pink
stockings, brown and black striped, two kinds of
rainbow-striped knee socks, white, navy, gray, black
lace and a multitude of faux-lacy flowers.
cream-colored, which i wore when i met miss mandee may
for the very first time (and subsequently smoked my
very first dunhill). plain black, of course, pink and
blue knee highs from the little girls' department and,
for the very cold and crazy days, full argyle
stockings.
i may have a bit of a patterned problem. or at least a
bit of a stocking problem.
perhaps i am turning my tiles into various kinds of
socks; some understated and, dare i say, typical, and
most really bright, rather trendy and fairly
expendable.
maybe that's too generalized, though.
maybe i just wish things could be as simple as socks
or tiles, threads interweaving and little rows of even
sqaures.
***
i made a friend quiz a week ago. remember when we did
those? yeah. i do.
i made one again and sent it out to all my friends.
the highest score was five out of ten. apparently my
quiz was too hard, and people thought i liked my
glasses more than my blue chuck taylors.
question number two:
how many boys have i dated (meaning: how many boys
would say they have dated me)?
question number three:
ok, so with how many boys have i gone on dates?
both multiple choice.
i had to count out myself for number three. i got out
my red editing pen and a note card and make tick marks
as i counted off the names in my head. twenty-one.
now twenty-two, i guess, and that reminds me of a good
life song.
i kind of miss those twenty-one dates, when i woke up
the morning of and picked out a skirt and a pair of
cream-colored tights. is it bad to say i kind of miss
the dates in january? i kind of miss chicago in may,
too.
does that mean i miss my old life? or is there a
difference between then and now? between all the
twenty-one and the new number twenty-two?
or is it all just the same after all, the same tiles
in the same floor, the same size and shape and color,
just in a different spot with an exact measurement and
boundary.
maybe i am not a thousand names. maybe i am just one.
well.
fuck.
nevermind.
*rae
(thanking fuck for the end and ken.)
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Web Hosting - Let the expert host your site
http://webhosting.yahoo.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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
Has it been so long?
So long in your terms, that is.... In the Great Stretch Of Eternity it
registers, quite literally, as nothing.
I'm sorry. I should introduce myself. My Name is Saint Peter. I am an
Angel Of The Lord And Divine Emissary. And I'm a very busy man. A very
busy man.
There's so much to do these days. Hardly a day goes by without Some bunch
of aggrieved new arrivals showing up at the Gates of Heaven. There's a lot
of talk of revenge...most of them talk of revenge...revenge revenge
revenge... I don't mind telling you, it gets fucking boring after a while.
It wasn't cool when the medievals did it and it isn't cool when you lot do
it now.
Anyway.. I digress. And I shouldn't digress. I'm a very busy man.
Except I'm not actually a man.. not technically.. but don't let that bother
you. It is too hard to explain. And I shouldn't digress. I'm a very
busy.... yes, very busy.
I spoke to you once before. I was on your Earth for a brief period, and I
had a quest. I had spent too long away from Heaven, and I had been
dreaming. Angels don't dream. And they certainly don't dream of love....
not The Love the dead poets talk of, and sweet buggery christ there's a lot
of them round here. I used to see them coming, and cross the road to avoid
them. A fucking pretentious bunch, most of them, always quoting themselves
and offering that as truth. I tell them I've seen The Truth and it would
scare the shit out of them, but most of them just laugh.
Anyway, one day I got stuck in a lift with Sylvia Plath. The last person
you want to get stuck in a lift with, frankly. She was top of my list of
people to avoid, along with Barbara Cartland. Always running up to men and
accusing them of being Nazis.. and there was a terrible hubbub when her
husband turned up here a few years back. In the end, he got so fed up he
re-incarnated. A thought-fox, from what I remember.
But I digress, and I shouldn't digress.
Stuck in a lift with Sylvia Plath. She stands in the corner, rambling to
herself, after attention as always. She still hasn't realised that the
point of heaven is that everyone has time for everyone else, and you'll get
all the attention you need in the course of eternity. I don't think she'll
realise that for a while, trapped in herself. Anyway, I'm staring at the
ceiling, staring at the nymphs playing water-cello in the corner, staring at
the satyrs fucking on the chaise-longue, looking at ANYTHING but this bird
standing next to me, muttering to herself about bees. If I'd had a penis,
I'd have taken it out and waved it at her. Jim Morrison tells me that
usually keeps people away. Sadly, that isn't an option. Eventually, she
walks right on over, looks me directly in the face and out it comes. She
delivers it slowly, and she ennunciates every syllable. Poets do. Most of
'em. 'cept the ones that are too stoned to talk:
'The box is only temporary' she says. I smile, and thank her, and stare at
the ceiling a little more.... but she's said something... she's started my
brain. And I don't like it when that happens. I'm too busy to have my
brain started. I've go things to do.. There's a big party from Iraq
expected at any moment...dazed, confused civilians with no idea what has
happened. It'll take some explaining... but its too late... around and
around...buzzing in my head... the box is only temporary...the box is only
temporary...
And I remember...I remember what I'd forgotten.
It all comes back. A face on a screen... a picture of Her. The woman I
have dreamt of..
us
me and her
running through fields of opium, her patterned stockings
cast aside, flying
high
into skies that will never darken
whilst we remain
underneath, blissful
loving
Fuck, spend too long around the likes of Percy Shelley and you too will
start spouting shite.... And not just because of the syphillis..
Isobel Campbell..
whilst on Earth, I had searched for her. Birmingham, Coventry,
Cambridge...three of the four corners of the world. I resolved to take
another unpaid, unofficial leave. The Big Guy doesn't really give us
leave...just tells us that working here should be pleasure enough in itself.
Easy for him to say. Spends all day sitting under trees with The Buddha,
throwing stones at passing children.
But, I'm leaving....and I'm coming back to Earth to find her...and this time
I'm going to plan it properly..
The last clue I had...an address in Cambridge. I had turned up to meet her
and I got caught on some CCTV camera. The Big J saw me and called me
back....said I'd let him down three times before, and if I didn't want my
job I could fuck off, there are always vacancies in...other places...he told
me, and we both knew what he meant..
I was in Cambridge. I think I found her..
Administration and Support in the Department of Applied Economics
>
>>Isobel Campbell-Stewart Librarian Bella.Campbell-Stewart(a)econ.cam.ac.uk
I still don't know what a Stewart Librarian is. Time to find out.
I shall choose a pleasing coutenance... something classic but not classical,
something suave but not too sophisticated.. Gregory Peck, circa
'Spellbound'... but somehow a little more...twee... and I shall wear
corduroy.
And I shall meet her. The librarian. The singer. The cellist
Isobel
my darling
my love.
xx
Saint P
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
+---+ 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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
well i failed my test again today. I turned the air
inside the car blue with my bad language, and i was
shaking and sweating with nerves. I fucking hate
tests. One thing, when we were at school, doing
written exams. You could go back and check if you'd
done alright. But I've always hated practicals. Oral
exams in German and later, Norwegian. Practical exam
in chemistry. And then the dance exams I had. I've
probably failed most practical exams I've sat.
It was my own fault though, and the examiner was a
pretty fair bloke, so I'm not going to blame him in
some conspiracy theory paranoia. I failed FIVE BLOODY
FUCKING FEET from the test centre as I returned. I
thought I'd failed earlier, but he'd been good about
that apparently. I thought I'd hit the kerb/ He said
I'd brushed it. He said there were different degrees
of hitting a kerb, and had taken my side on that. But
I couldn't really hear what he was saying. I was just
thinking "Shit. Thats another £50 I'll have to fork
out to get my license". I've spent well over £200 on
tests alone. No idea what the lessons have cost me. I
could have bought a car probably, for the total value.
Or a plane. Yeah. Learn to fly, girl, learn to fly. At
least then you won't get caught up in traffic jams.
I'm not as gutted as I was last time. I think I just
went back to bed last time, and lay in bed, hating
everyone. All my friends being supportive. All the
people asking how I did. All the people wishing me
luck. Because by failing, I knew I'd be asked, and
have to sit through the same conversations a million
times before the weekend was out. I knew exactly what
people would say.
This time, I think they know. Cos they know what I'm
like when I fail. Its a case of "leave me alone."
So I didn't spend the day in bed. Well, not all of it.
My disappointment isn't as bad as it was last time.
Although - AND THIS IS FUCKING PATHETIC - i was
watching new nutrigrain advert, and it had this woman
washing her car and then it started to rain and shes
thinking "typical". And I felt a bit sad - I want a
car to wash*.
right well. there you go.
Stop wishing me luck those of you that do. You're
bloody jinxing me with your bad luck ways.
love
idles
* A car of my own, I am not offering myself for car
washing. A car I can own, drive, and curse when it
does things wrong and costs me a fortune to get fixed.
Maybe by the time I pass they'll have an even newer
model of the little hot clio I want.
=====
<a href="http://retrosec.blogspot.com/">http://retrosec.blogspot.com/</a> thoughts
__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Everything you'll ever need on one web page
from News and Sport to Email and Music Charts
http://uk.my.yahoo.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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
well i failed my test again today. I turned the air
inside the car blue with my bad language, and i was
shaking and sweating with nerves. I fucking hate
tests. One thing, when we were at school, doing
written exams. You could go back and check if you'd
done alright. But I've always hated practicals. Oral
exams in German and later, Norwegian. Practical exam
in chemistry. And then the dance exams I had. I've
probably failed most practical exams I've sat.
It was my own fault though, and the examiner was a
pretty fair bloke, so I'm not going to blame him in
some conspiracy theory paranoia. I failed FIVE BLOODY
FUCKING FEET from the test centre as I returned. I
thought I'd failed earlier, but he'd been good about
that apparently. I thought I'd hit the kerb/ He said
I'd brushed it. He said there were different degrees
of hitting a kerb, and had taken my side on that. But
I couldn't really hear what he was saying. I was just
thinking "Shit. Thats another £50 I'll have to fork
out to get my license". I've spent well over £200 on
tests alone. No idea what the lessons have cost me. I
could have bought a car probably, for the total value.
Or a plane. Yeah. Learn to fly, girl, learn to fly. At
least then you won't get caught up in traffic jams.
I'm not as gutted as I was last time. I think I just
went back to bed last time, and lay in bed, hating
everyone. All my friends being supportive. All the
people asking how I did. All the people wishing me
luck. Because by failing, I knew I'd be asked, and
have to sit through the same conversations a million
times before the weekend was out. I knew exactly what
people would say.
This time, I think they know. Cos they know what I'm
like when I fail. Its a case of "leave me alone."
So I didn't spend the day in bed. Well, not all of it.
My disappointment isn't as bad as it was last time.
Although - AND THIS IS FUCKING PATHETIC - i was
watching new nutrigrain advert, and it had this woman
washing her car and then it started to rain and shes
thinking "typical". And I felt a bit sad - I want a
car to wash*.
right well. there you go.
Stop wishing me luck those of you that do. You're
bloody jinxing me with your bad luck ways.
love
idles
* A car of my own, I am not offering myself for car
washing. A car I can own, drive, and curse when it
does things wrong and costs me a fortune to get fixed.
Maybe by the time I pass they'll have an even newer
model of the little hot clio I want.
=====
<a href="http://retrosec.blogspot.com/">http://retrosec.blogspot.com/</a> thoughts
__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Everything you'll ever need on one web page
from News and Sport to Email and Music Charts
http://uk.my.yahoo.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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
Like all the best days, today began with a barrage of
bad jokes, of course I've already forgotten these and
will probably be amused by them again next week, but
thats not really the point. So, back to today, which
is quite possibly the point of this post. Not sure
though. I'm sure I had a really good reason for
writing this when I started, must have lost it along
with all those bad jokes.
I heard about a man who lost the ability to remember
anything for more than about ten minutes the other
day, some sort of fencing accident. But again we
wander from the point. But is it a we? I think that
might be closer to the point of this.
Lonliness, lonely times we're spending (or I'm
spending anyway). Something about the imaginary
partner idea grabbed me, only problem is, my imaginary
girlfriend dumped me, must say something very bad
about me. The question really is who is she anyway?
Not sure how to work that one out, thinking about it
doesn't seem to help much, perhaps it'll come to me in
a dream or something, hopefully not about horses.
Still, I'm always looking for the Sun to shine,
perhaps it will one of these days, although I can't
see whats different about tomorrow or any other day.
Lonely man seeks company, he's really not that boring
once you get to know him.
Perhaps this is just a modern rock song (sorry I've
been listening to that song a lot recently and felt it
deserved some place here). Perhaps everything will
sort itself out nicely and everything will be good,
and the world will be at peace and stuff. Talking of
peace, I thought it was nice of the firefighters to
cause one third of the British fleet to go temporarily
out of action. Perhaps we can get some more strikes to
allow the armed forces to participate in this non-war
activity. But then again perhaps not.
Think I've rambled on enough now, but don't despair,
can't think of an ending to that sentance. Oh well,
whatever, nevermind.
sinkingpie
__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Everything you'll ever need on one web page
from News and Sport to Email and Music Charts
http://uk.my.yahoo.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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
well, what a busy time it's been; makes me feel really
popular, seeing all those emails waiting in my inbox,
until i remember i've merely signed up to receive them
that is, and then reality comes crashing into my life
again. oh well, it was bound to happen on a regular
basis.
new topic: new paragraph (note please, paragraph fans)
as well as being busy (this is a new topic, therefore
new paragraph, i'm just trying to create a smooth
transition) these last few weeks have also been
exciting: poetry parrot, christmas gift exchange,
jumble sale... the list is (almost) endless. i have to
say i hope lots of you have contacted the divine Ms
Llew to secure the opportunity to participate in the
great Pressie Xchange. you know you want to. and i
know i want a pressie back. obviously, if you just
want to join in so you can get loads of wonderful
gifts and look really loved at this *special* time,
clear off, i've got there first. if any of you have
extra gifts to distribute (especially if they are
chocolate buttons [my staple diet]) please just send
straight to me.
hey look, it's another new paragraph!
the poetry parrot: what an amazing creature! but i'm a
little worried; has it/he/she survived its/his/her
back
from the dead experience? it/he/she obviously hasn't
made it to Liz Daplyn yet. does this mean it could
descend in need of sustinance at any moment? if this
is a possibility does it have a special sinister
tracking gadget? if so then all sinistrians need to be
on the look-out and have an emergency poem at the
ready (not to suggest we aren't all reading poetry at
every available waking moment).
emergency poem resource kit suggestion: fab anthology
called 'staying alive: real poems for unreal times' ed
by neil astley. (2002)
actually, whilst i'm going on about books to read i
might as well go off on one. (get used to this, it's
quite normal).
great book warning: 'a fine balance' rohinton mistry.
i
was almost put off this as it had a sticker saying
'oprah's book club' on it, but i trusted my reading
recommendation source, and.... wow. i had to take
myself off to a quiet place when i finished reading as
it had such an impact. read it. please.
greatish book warning: 'you don't know me' david
klass.
this is in the 'young adult' section, but when did
bookshops know about categorising books? i mean, they
put Northern Lights etc into childrens!
fab book warning: 'stormbreaker' anthony horowitz. ok,
this is out and out a kid's book: james bond with a 14
year-old protagonist. but what a 14 year old! by the
3rd book i'm ashamed to admit i fancied a teenager,
and a 14-yr-old one at that. oh the shame. the shame.
well, this mail started off as a reaction to Myra
Hindley's death, but i've got as far as listening to
suffer little children too many times and wittering on
about nothing. i've also managed to spend too long
staring at the photo of the band opposite the lyrics
for 'suffer'. the tucked in shirt days. oh i remember
it well. and it was forced back to me a few weeks ago
when a 'friend' decided to set me up on a night out.
the *man of my dreams* (sic.) turned out to be wearing
a large checked shirt rolled up at the sleeves and
tucked tightly into his m&s jeans. is it
wrong of me to judge him on this? the final nail in
the coffin was he refused to come and dance! i mean,
not wanting to dance! ok, so i can't dance, but i
refuse to let that minor consideration get in the way
of something i enjoy. after all, i don't have to watch
me not being able to dance.
yet another paragraph, and probably enough to satisfy
the paragraph contingent. i feel i really should say
something of interest during this post so i'll leave
you with my fave. quotation of wisdom:
'to remember everything is a form of madness'
(Friel/Steiner)
i can't say anything about Hindley although i feel i
should, but perhaps the only way forward is to
remember the essence of horror we should work against,
and forget the facts about her. i think i'm trying to
say that making sure what happened never happens
again is more important than her as a person. and i
think this probably applies to lots of things at the
moment.
love
Elle
x
+Belle (purr)
__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Everything you'll ever need on one web page
from News and Sport to Email and Music Charts
http://uk.my.yahoo.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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
oh
sinister,
thank fuck for all that.
and red shirts. and colanders. thank fuck
for fourteen hundred delete buttons
with separate interests,
with a love for unparagraphed prose
and a hate for it. thank fuck for poetry
and those bastards
who drown their sorrows in it
after late nights at the bar
or early mornings at the gym
or just because they'd rather not
do the grocery shopping,
buy more bread, buy more gin.
i was thanking fuck the other day
and jesus christ if it didn't thank me back.
fuck must be canadian, i thought:
its self-effacing ways
and that happy-go-lucky hairstyle.
but of course, i'm wrong,
again, and fuck isn't what it seems.
it lays down a blanket on the forest floor,
stretches out, eyes half-closed
like Barthes laying on the beach.
but fuck has brought sandwiches wrapped in wax paper
and tea out of an old blue thermos.
how can you go wrong with that?
mid-spring and all our life coming back
even as we lay down to count the clouds,
close our eyes, and pretend to nap.
i've had one of those days. and it should really be over by now, but
i've kept it going on. brain, stop, just bluddy stop (except maybe
keep going a little on this whole 'how to spell psychoanalyze' thing
b/c, well, you've got some kind of mental block there). ah, oh well,
pfft.
yours, always and etc.,
robyn
=====
I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything. ~Steven Wright
~~~
Robyn Fadden rfadden(a)yahoo.com Montreal, QC
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Web Hosting - Let the expert host your site
http://webhosting.yahoo.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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
hey kids
it's Kin, one of the Perth divison. soon i'll be making my way to
luverly Sydney for a week of fun and err frolics. only thing is, i haven't
been to Sydney for 6 years so knowledge is rusty. so this is where kind
and helpful Sinisterinies come in. so any Sydney Sinisterinies (try
saying that 5 times fast), please tell me cool places (clothes shops,
record shops, bars, clubs etc) to check out. any info would be mucho
appreciated. Any Sinister happenings going on from Dec 5 to 14 (when I'll
be going)??? Or just cool gigs to check out in that period? (I'm going
to DJ Shadow at the mo).I await expert advice anxiously:)
ok please email me off list and hope to hear from some of you soon.
later
Kin Woo
"The trouble with the straight and the narrow
is it's so thin I keep sliding off to the side"
Jason Pierce
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
+---+ 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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
hey again
sorry for 2 emails in rapid succession. but i've recently ended 6 years of
student poverty and having obtained a job for next year, plan to splurge
out on the one thing I've desired for so long...:some device to record
gigs with:)
No, i must reiterate- i have no intention of selling said bootlegs but
have been to so many gigs that were so brilliant that I wished I had
recorded to preserve it forever. so peeps, please help me out because I'm
a Luddite when it comes to these things. What would be the best device to
bring with me to record a gig??? I've heard Minidisc and DAT but know very
little about them so any info would be appreciated. what do you more
techno-knowledgeable of you recommend?What would give the clearest sound
reproduction? Which is easiest to use? What models do you recommend and
how much do they cost? Also is it possible to transfer it to CD? Any and
all info would be so much welcome. I repeat-not to sell but for pure and
simple musical nostalgia (and maybe to make copies for friends as
prezzies:))
Ok thanx in advance peeps (and please email me off-list) and hope to hear
from you soon
Later
Kin Woo
"The trouble with the straight and the narrow
is it's so thin I keep sliding off to the side"
Jason Pierce
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
+---+ 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! +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+
