- Sinister - missprint.org

Sinister: Anyone got a ticket for Monday?
by John T. Cat, Esq. 30 Apr '02

30 Apr '02

Anyone have floor tickets for Monday's show at the Hammerstein? I have a floor ticket for Sunday to trade. Or Money. I got money. Thanks, John +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: a freckled life
by baker,baker 30 Apr '02

30 Apr '02

dear sinister, i have a freckle on the palm of my hand. he's right up here in the corner, hesitating before he crawls out onto the diving board of my first finger, leaping out into the world, and making a name for himself as a famous gymnast or a senator. i can see his ambition -- he has a bold set of shoulders and a strong chin. but his posture has fear in it, like a small child who doesn't want to get too close to the edge of a tall and dangerous precipice. i can identify with this sort of feeling, and i'm not going to pressure him too much into leaving me just yet. but every time i see this freckle, i must admit, i am quite surprised. it has been on my hand for as long as i can remember, and for as long as i can remember, i have never felt as though it belonged to me. it's not MY freckle, you see. he doesn't seem to belong to me, and i don't like thinking of him as a part of me. i keep expecting to look down and see him gone. i think that lots of people feel this way about parts of their body. i'm not talking about the feeling of not LIKING a part of myself, though -- just about being strangers with it. like the people you knew in school, who you sat through classes with everyday for nearly a decade, but who never seemed any nearer to you than they had the first time you met them, trembling nervously, on your first day of kindergarten. i only mention this because i'm starting to notice that there is another freckle that's appeared, in another place. except this one is not on my body -- now, it seems, i'm developing a freckled life. this freckle is not a stain. it is not a mole or tumerous growth. freckles, you see, come from being in the sun. they are like little permanent hickies left from all the times i stopped to let the sun kiss my body without interrupting. i might talk now about the horrid mess my life has been lately. a car accident, a dog bite, wallets lost and found, fighting, making up and fighting again, botched surgeries, hideous scars... it would never really end. but these things are natural to me. these catastrophies and tragedies and fuck-ups are so familar, in fact, that i think of them as my own skin. and on my face, and on my shoulders, in this pale complexion of disaster, there are a healthy number of freckles -- indications that i've allowed myself enough time with that bright ball of warm light to be marked by it. i have had moments, i have been loved. i went outside for awhile, away from everything, and this is what i came back with. but no, no, no. you don't hold the palm of your hand up near the sun. and this little creature near my finger is evidence of a different kind of light. he is alone, and while i do not feel like i deserve him, i am not asking him to leave. and in my life, i have made a friend, in a very distant place, and i think of her now when i am looking at my hand. she shines on a different bit of my skin, and i can feel a mark being slowly burned there. and though i may never feel entirely deserving of that light, or that light's kiss, i am hoping all the same for a hickey, as permanent evidence, a mouth-shaped mark to scandalize the kids back home. love, baker,baker __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! Health - your guide to health and wellness http://health.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! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: preserve your memories, they're all that's left you.
by lindsey baker 30 Apr '02

30 Apr '02

hello sinister. right now i am surrounded by cds, and i am again surprised that forty of them in one pile is still not enough to handle the delicate intricacies of making a mix tape. i think i have left some home by my broken tape player, thus leaving me with about twenty albums with which to make an amazing compilation, one that will wow the listener with my well-honed capabilities to put songs together in a semblance of order, make things that don't have anything to do with one another work in such a way to make an oiled machine of the various glued-together parts. i think i should have tackled a smaller, simpler project. sixty minutes of music is nothing and everything to me when someone else makes it. i buy it and listen to it, cherish the little circle of heaven and brandish it in the air. i make everyone else stop what they're doing, slip a little something in the news desk cd player, turn the volume up a bit and put my hand to my chest in the ultimate gesture of adoration. i am a crazed fan. and not only that. i think i might suck at trying to take things other people make for my own bit of art, ripping four-minute increments and attempting to re-weave a tapestry of sorts that was already perfect to begin with. argh. i would never never win the mix tape battle. i think i may only reduce the listener to tears. tears of shock and dismay, mind, that my skills are...well. yeah. maybe it's not that bad. maybe it never is, really. but the open door to the top of the arts desk boom box, when combined with the open door the player's tape deck, looks like a transmogrified mouth, gaping. laughing. *** sitting around today, i spotted a calendar on the arts desk for the zoo bar here in lincoln. they usually have blues bands of some sort there; i've been once to review a show. a family band. the millers. you realize something when sitting in the crowd at a bar, watching an eight-year-old kid wail on the harmonica while his dad and brothers play back up. providing a clean dance track for the tipsy thirty-something single women, who saunter up to the edge of the stage and give that grade-schooler a show he probably shouldn't get until he's at least fourteen. you realize loneliness drives people to strange things. for one. you also realize just what people are driven to on a tuesday night, a pitcher of drawn beer and a few friends the only salvation from mundane schedules. the schedule for the zoo bar here has, unsurprisingly, nothing i want to see this month. and nothing i could see, anyway, since i am, alas, at the tender and terribly frustrating twenty-year mark, where nothing happens except an extreme teetering in the area of a chalked, coming-of-age line. in the spirit of trying to console myself and having something to do come may 11, i thought i might hop on the internet to find more calendars. more things i don't really want to go to. here is a small list of musical acts thrilling the chicago area about two weeks from now. (get out your personal planners now!): 1. michael mcdermott, who, in the description, is hailed as a faded "MTV megastar" 2. scott miller and the commonwealth 3. giant step 4. neko case/pieta brown 5. thrones 6. down (who, according to that description, are "metal." YES.) of course, bright eyes is also in that mix, but must be stated away from those other gems. i was hoping the "tweeter center" might have some interesting acts -- after all, they do have "twee" in their funny little name. i was very very wrong, though, because coming up at the tweeter are hot hot HOT acts usher, alan jackson and kid rock. and i can't even get a little tipsy in order to get my groove on before any of these hit peeps, unless, of course, i smuggle a little booze in the venue via the belle and sebastian flask i may as well buy off of ebay in lieu of something else. misslou sighs, and adds more stars. *** tonight, on my way to the coffee house to interview kids about how cool the strokes are, i looked intensely for a few moments at my cigarette. i watched the smoke curl, the paper burn, and i tried, for a minute or two, to time the pace of my walk to the burn of the paper. so that maybe, without really inhaling, the whole cylinder could burn away by the time i got to my destination. i gave up, and got rid of the thing the normal way. there was a boy at the coffee shop. he bought a piece of cheesecake and a glass of milk, and i watched him cut the cake into asymmetrical sections, then place red coffee stirrers vertically in the geometrically pleasing squares and rectangles of cake. i never figured out what he was doing, but he looked up at one point and smiled at me, telling me he had wondered that day what it would be like if he had no preference for the taste of anything. he ate the cake then, removing the red straws as he went. he and i are both over the top, we agreed, and far too poetic for our own respective goods. maybe none of us can cut something up and put it back together properly, save for eating the messes we make to the rhythm of a pretty song, a harmonica. women dancing. bands we've never known. growing fond of ending posts with lists of things, interconnected and disjointed. the assignment of meaning to nothing and everything, and filling all the space between with wasted time and imagined memories. i have made the tape once. and now, upon listening to the finished product, i will make it again tomorrow, the way i should have made it in the first place. love, l. lou _________________________________________________________________ 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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Sinister: DOUBLE DEVO!!!TORONTO TICKET ACCIDENT!!!CREAME AND SUGARE.
by Steven Kado 30 Apr '02

30 Apr '02

i bought my belle and sebastian tickets through ticketmaster while i was still in bed i was not clever or wise i was in bed. i bought too many ticket. that is to say i have one ticket to sell at cost to someone who needs one. this is a ticket to the toronto show. sorry for this, i have not posted in what might be a year. i used to post enough that i could get name dropped in other people's posts. (it didn't happen much but it was nice when it did) now nothing. until today. sigh. s t e v enn +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: Ink Polaroids
by Salako * 30 Apr '02

30 Apr '02

Hey everyone! OK, I went to a Weezer/Pete Yorn/AM Radio (never heard of 'em before, but I quite like rocking out to their muzack) concert this weekend... in Pullman Washington! Dinky little college town. Concert was great, though... my ears are still fuzzy. B&S material: I got a Weezer Tshirt with what seriously looks like S. David's Ink Polaroid drawings of the band (!)... When I first saw the shirt I had to doubletake on the name written above the pics. Weird! Also: I am so jealous of anyone going to a B&S concert (thanks for filling up the old inbox :P )... post pics on the web, please? Well, the centrifuge calls. Ann _________________________________________________________________ Send and receive Hotmail on your mobile device: http://mobile.msn.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: Ease your feet in NYC
by Adam Leier 29 Apr '02

29 Apr '02

I was just wondering if the kids from the first night extravaganza were invited to the Fez type party. Is there a 21 and over rule? It's just around the corner from where I live so i was curious. There's nothing planned for the 5th right? Sorry for all this bureaucratic type clarification stuff I'm just a bit befuddled. Thanks Adam (AOLIM = BlurryBoy13) +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: TIGERMILKING NYC - May 6th after the B&S show
by Mark Casarotto 29 Apr '02

29 Apr '02

Hello! Lovely Brian Hobnob asked me to post the following about the night that we (and the gorgeous, pouting Phil-two) are putting on next week. Y'all come along, you hear? Mark xxx *********** TIGERMILKING 200 troubled teenagers & a passel of DJs Monday, May 6 10pm until close (come right down from the B&S gig!) in the Fez lounge (ground floor) 380 Lafayette Street at Great Jones (uh, this is in New York) (and near the 6 or the NR trains) I know that most of you only have experience with the Fez lounge as "that really crowded place I pushed through when leaving a CMJ show" but it does a very nice sound system & good drinks, plus we basically have the space privately that night. Anyway, please come. There's no cover. And I promise it will be fun. Drop me a line if you have any questions... otherwise I hope to see loads of you in Fez on the 6th. Please forward this email to anyone you think might be interested... and print out the PDF flyer to give to them, too: http://www.joannou.net/tigermilking>. Or at least look at it, because the tiger on it is cute. __________________________________________________ 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! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+

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Sinister: To go looking for the AMY...and it wasn't very LONGCORE...
by Richard Cottyn 29 Apr '02

29 Apr '02

Yes, back with the puns. I'm sorry but I couldn't resist! I haven't posted for a bit-and I thought now was a good time seen as I have a bit to ramble on about (see, you can't get rid of me that easily...) I'm counting local election votes in the UK on Thursday for the first time (now that I'm the rip old age of 18!) and getting paid for it :) The prospect of being able to fix the election rather excites me, and I'm particularly looking forward to accidently forgetting to count any BNP votes. The Lib Dems get my vote, due to the simple fact that I got a birthday card from them. That's politics for ya. Now at the moment I'm rehearsing for a play at the Crucible (where the World Championship Snooker is currently being held). It was excellent finishing my rehearsal tonight, because I came out of the Crucible Stage Door and there's a big group of people who turn round sharply with their snooker programmes and pens in hand, expecting some top class snooker player. When they saw that I was just an ordinary teenager with a script in his hand they turned away again, and pondered over how ginger Steve Davis's hair is. Talking of autographs, I remember the World Snooker programme from about a decade ago, and I had made fake autographs by all the players names. (I dunno why, I was only about 8!) I told my cousin Colin that they were real, before confessing the truth. He was obviously impressed with my fake autographs though because he asked me to do loads on pieces of paper, and we were going to take them to the school tuck shop the next day and sell them. His Mum found out though later that evening about our schemes and we were duly reprimanded. I think it may have been quite a money maker. I could have been a millionaire by now. I might even have had enough money to offer Morrissey a solo deal. Love Richard 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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Re: Sinister: saturday night/sunday morning
by Dimitra Daisy 29 Apr '02

29 Apr '02

'Its hard to be happy when you always want something you haven't got', Ian said. As I walk around the streets of this city lists of the things that I terribly miss make themselves in my head. I come back and Yo La Tengo sing just be thankful for what youve got. Its the week before Easter, its spring, it gets dark quite late though not as late as in Scotland. Or even London. Theres a part of my mind dedicated to thinking about another place, sometimes I worry that it is bigger than the one that thinks about the world here. Then I go out, and I am overwhelmed by light and colours and smells and by the clarity of it all. In and between all that, I realised its easier to be a little sad than to be a little happy. Its easy to pine for what you dont have. It hard to acknowledge the fact that the world around you is a lively colourful place and there a lot of things for which you can be thankful and a little bit happy. Even though you dont have a lot of what you long for. Yesterday I spend most of the day in a house in the country, or, well, somewhere outside the city. I spend most of the day in it and only came out when it was almost dark, and got wet running around and in and under and between green things. It would be nice if I were a fairy in another lifetime. When I took the bus back into the city, it felt a bit different to be there, in the way things feel when youve been away to somewhere different and come back. I got off at the wrong bus stop and ended up walking quite a bit to get home, and I felt a bit like a ten year old coming back from a school excursion. I came back to a big dark silent flat that seemed to hang there, four flours above the ground just to let the night wind blow through it and to have music played in it. I went out again for a bit, on the way up I remembered to look right and up as I was crossing a big street, I saw the fullish moon rising above a mountain and looking orange, and were surprised even if it was the fourth time in a row this had happened. On the way down I looked again, then I took another way down, and run for half of it. Sometimes I think of Lazy Line Painter Jane when I start running in the street, sometimes I think of Ian, sometimes I dont think at all. Or I think of different things. This time I wanted to cry, not out of sadness, but out of something else I didnt have words about. It had something to do with the night and with the lists of the things I terribly miss in my head. Then I came back (again), to find Ian had written: Saturday night: I have days when I want to hug the world. I want to run up to each person I see, clamp them between my thighs, and plant a huge smacker on their rosy-red lips. I want to sing, dance, and shout. I want to raise the world in a great big, happy, revolution. Thankfully, these are few and far between. And I am able to resist such urges. The masses do not want to be woken in a happy revolution, they find their joy in separation and disdain. Such behaviour would earn me nothing but opprobrium and a bruised face. And there's nothing special about that. I can get that simply by visiting Coventry. I read it holding my breath and I wanted to cry again. It took me a while but I realised that the reason I wanted to cry when running down the street was, as I put it last night, because the world is a big, mysterious, magical place, just as the night stretching out around me was, but people don't pay notice to it. And the world, instead of being what Ian called a happy revolution, is a place of separation and disdain. Do you know why I like Belle and Sebastian? Do you know why my favourite film is Together (Tillsammans, by Lukas Moodysson) ? Do you know why I like you? Well, for lots of little reasons too. But mostly cause theyre all part of that happy revolution. Now I know what I have been telling you to keep the faith in all along. zoziepop xx _________________________________________________________________ Chat with friends online, try MSN Messenger: http://messenger.msn.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: One dayI will get up early and steal back everything stolen from me
by Sunny set 29 Apr '02

29 Apr '02

I like train journeys. I like going somewhere slightly exciting or doing something a little bit different. I like sitting with my head against the window and music in my ears watching fields change into cities and cities change into beaches. It is nice to rush past people walking their dogs, or flying kites or playing football and to see something you would otherwise miss whilst sitting staring out of the window at home. I am patient with delays. Up to a point at least, I'm no saint after-all. I can sit on the platform watching freight train passing through and signs hung on chains dancing in the wind. I listen to the echo of the tannoy, the sound of children playing, and the whistle of wind as a train leaves the station. 5 years ago I hated trains. I hated a specific hour long train journey from my home in Shrewsbury to Birmingham where that year I was working. Each morning I caught the same train into work, and usually the same train home again. On a good day I would get a seat by the window facing forwards, the train would leave and arrive on time and would be relatively warm. Even on good days each journey was clouded with tiredness, and with frustration and the sense that my life was slipping away somewhere approaching Wolverhampton. I envied the commuters who lived 20 minutes further along the line. I envied people travelling for fun even more. They stood on the platform at 7.00am bright eyed and excited. I stood there shivering, with permenent bags surrounding my eyes. As the winter turned into summer the days became longer and colour seeped back into my life. I heard "me and the major" for the first time and started to imagine the friendships I could have with my fellow passengers. There was the old time commuter who drank a cup of coffee each morning before falling asleep with his mouth open. The thirty somethings who sat around a table for four, flirting madly whilst boasting about there jobs. There was even a young girl who may or may not have dreamt of horses. I became fond of the familiar faces. Life moves on, as did I. I wonder how many of those people still catch the same train into work. Maybe one day I will get up early one day and stand on the platform bright eyed and excited and steal back everything Wolverhampton ever took from me. Take Care, Rachel _________________________________________________________________ Chat with friends online, try MSN Messenger: http://messenger.msn.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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