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Sinister: tales of a tortured bus ride
by trish delish 01 Jan '02

01 Jan '02

hi kids i suppose it's a little late to be reviewing the belfast gig, so i'll just add my shout outs to all the members of the sinister massive who were there (though a slightly muted shout to the pervy priest (Aka dirty vicar) for his disparaging title about the kids on the bus) actually, i think those of us who travelled on the bus deserve some kind of prize....someone mentioned their hope that we introduce the presumably bemused bus driver to the joys of b and s. well, seamus and louise came prepared with tapes, and so impressed was the bus driver that he drove the last 100 miles home with the window down (sub zero temperatures bedamned) and once the tape had ended, decided on a musical/cultural exchange by bombarding us with the joyful 106.8 fm, dublin's ONLY country music radio station...who'da thunk it? personal faves included the delightful rockabilly version of away in a ma-a-a-nger, and the song whose title i missed, but whose chorus told of the boy who drove his car to the county fair, got bar-beee-kew sauce on his shirt, and a girl who was killing him with her mini skirt. ah, much as i try to describe the joys, only those of us who experienced it will share that special bond... so on to other things....actually, one thing i would like to mention about the belfast gig is that some of the crowd really could have gotten into the spirit of things a little more....some wag beside me on the balcony provided endless entertainment to his mates by (loudly) calling isobel a dickhead every time she opened her mouth to sing....a pity, i hope she didn't mind too much. otherwise, it really was a fab gig in every way, someone reviewing glasgow mentioned it was great to see them all enjoy themselves, which i thought in belfast too - a lovely change from the guitar smashing antics of dublin in times past and so, it's off to bed and dreams of a year when i can smugly say i managed at least 24 hours before breaking all my resolutions (i write this surrounded by chocs, ciggies and nary a heterosexual man in sight) happy new year kids trish delish ps actually, writing that last bit, i've had a bit of a belated epiphany - could the chocs and ciggies be responsible for the last bit? hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! pps i promise that as of now, i will never ever mention the word bus in a sinister post again...it really can't be that interesting to those, ohhh 1387 of you, who weren't on it...nitenite! +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: just a thought for astrid
by Astrid Wiezell 01 Jan '02

01 Jan '02

Hey, Hahaha. I´m sorry, but I didn´t think anyone could mistake be for being a boy, but, um, Astrid is a girlname, and I am a girl, so, you do the maths. I guess that was what I wanted to say. Oh, right, about the new year, well I hope that you all will have a nice year, and all that. I´m going to do things I´m afraid of this year. Lots of stuff like: *Record demo with band, which I am truly scared of since I am afraid that tey guy in the studio will laugh at me or just sigh and roll his eyes when I start playing. *Have first proper gig with band. Stagefright is something I kind of have, just sometimes but I can imagine this will be one of those moments when I stand there trembling. *Quitting the school I´m in now, or, well, I´m going to quit it along with everyone else in it, because we are the oldest class now so I´ll start a completely new school which will be fantastic and really reliefing but still scary. *Going to England for a while. I dunno why it´d be scary, but, well, I guess it is. It´s a different country? No, that´s not scary, and my mum´ll be there. Maybe I´ll meet a certain boy there. THAT scares me. Oh, right, I´m going to get myself a boyfriend as well.. oh wait.. that´s what I say every year.. well, better luck for this one I can only hope! Lots of love from THE GIRL, Astrid x p.s haven´t you heard of the female author Astrid Lindgren? She wrote Pippi Longstocking, Madicken, Mio my Mio and lots of more books. Oh well. Just making it clear that I am in fact a girl. _________________________________________s_p_r_a_y_ Här börjar Internet! Skaffa gratis e-mail och gratis Internet på http://www.spray.se Vinn en Nokia 5510, spela spray quiz http://quiz.spray.se +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 did you get for Christmas this year?
by AN 01 Jan '02

01 Jan '02

31st December 2001 My grandmother says she heard that after each Christmas one gains about 7 lbs (3 kg). I believe and hope for chrissake that she's wrong. ((Heavy)) I should start with wishing you all a merry post-christmas and a happy post-new year. Or maybe I should finish with that. As I have wished for a while now I got a portable cd/mp3-player for Christmas. Putting together good mp3-cd's for it will keep me busy for a while. ((Happy)) How thoughtful of Miss Llew to post (earlier in December) a "How To Write A Sinister Post"-post! I have read it carefully though I think I might be doing things in the wrong order. I started with forgetting about being coherent, then I went on to forgetting about being witty as well. I hope it will work out anyway. (Also umm thanks to Mr Chu for his err "How not to write a sinister post"-post.) I have started listening to my Bathers tapes again. Had almost forgotten about them. Earlier this month I was going to do some Christmas baking(?) and since we only have a cassette player in the kitchen I had to find a good band to enjoy meanwhile. I found The Bathers! Ok, it's not exactely washing-up music, or any kind of real dance-moving music but it was really nice to just "float" around in the kitchen, singing along a little here and there and stomping your feet in the floor at certain times for better expression. Maybe because it reminds me of my lovely trip to Glasgow. ((Hovering)) Girlie snowangel Astrid (Hi sweet!) wrote about the song "Meatballs in your nose" and me being swedish and one of those on the list who knows this song, I couldn't help but laugh myself silly when I read it! ((Hee-hawing)) She also said: "I haven´t met a single person yet not to have laughed about it." (The meatball song) "What does that say about my friends? (Don´t answer that!)" My parents laughed at that song. What does that say about my parents? I have discovered that I have a cousin with fairly good taste in music. A while ago I asked him what kind of music he listens too, and it seemed then like he mostly listened to some kind of underground hip hop music and basically no-good-music. But last time we met, in September, he had been to a Fosca gig. And now that we met on Christmas Eve he had been to this gig with a wonderful Swedish singer/songwriter Kristofer Åström, whom I had also seen. I'm starting to happily believe that there is hope for my cousin after all. Maybe we'll go to a gig together next year. Tomorrow is New Years Eve. Forgot to buy Champagne! (Sheesh stupid girl) But that will be sorted out I think. Can always drink someone elses champagne, "accidentally". I plan to get drunk and gigglish and silly and happily silly and annoyingly silly and madly silly...all as usual. ((Helter-skeltering)) Next time...next year! ********************************************************** 1st January 2002 Happy New Year! They will all come back to me. The memories of last night. I'm quite sure they will, they always do. I've never had any blackouts (at least none caused by too much alcohol). Though I have never been that drunk before, and I was a little worried earlier this morning about how I would feel later on. But I'm ok. Great party, great fun, great new year indeed! The list of needless knowledge: 1. I taught myself how to drink white wine 2. I spilled some wine 3. Me and my friend V sent an SMS to a person we knew and who's phone number we thought we knew. A couple of confused SMS's later we started believing that we could have been wrong. The guy on the other end had the nerve to call us his concubines 4. I met an old classmate I hadn't seen in 2 years 5. Friend M began exclaiming that he was a concubine 6. I tried to get the music from the stereo to make sense. Failure 7. I wrestled with the cd's 8. Friend V snogged with the host 9. Friend M realised what "concubine" actually meant and decided he did no longer wish to be a concubine. Instead he thrusted the title upon me 10. I got two unexpected guests following me back to my house to stay the night. (They came from another city and had no place to sleep. Luckily my parents were out of town) 11. I woke up today and found a bruise as big as a mandarine (and I'm not exaggerating!) on my left leg below the knee. I have absolutely no idea of what I have done. 12. Me and the unexpected guests just finished watching Ivanhoe. Now they have headed for home Ivanhoe has almost become a must on new year's day. I don't know why. Think about it, the hero lies wounded throughout most of the film because of one little wound, and he is in love with one woman but seduces another. What kind of hero does that make him, really? Still, he is Ivanhoe. It's my friend's birthday tomorrow, and we are going to another party at some guy who's birthday it is too. And on the 5th there's a moving-in-party to attend. I'm not sure if neither my wallet nor my head will manage it. I can't think of anything else to write now, the state that I am in. So finally I'd just like to say, Belle and Sebastian! Kisses and Concubines /AN Monchichi +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: out like a lion, in like a lamb
by stacey dahling 01 Jan '02

01 Jan '02

Yesterday it felt like spring. There was a warm wind, clear blue skies, bright sun and an overall feeling of newness, change, renewal - relief from a winter that has been oppressive in so many ways. I glanced at a red sign outside a bank - 15 degrees. I suppose I should have been disturbed by this apparent sign of global warming, this omen of the impending apocalypse, or something. But instead I rejoiced in it - what a perfect way to end the year. I also drank all day. I started rather early - as soon as I returned home from brat-sitting. It wasnt a conscious decision, really. There was no plan per se. I just came home and looked in the fridge and grabbed a beer and opened it and sat down and read a bit, the French doors open. Lovely. Like summer, perhaps? We always allow ourselves a beer on a hot summer afternoon. Yes. Like that. Or like the last fucking day of a weird, tumultuous year. Mmm hmm. So I bought a basilopita, basil cake. No, it is not filled with basil. Instead, its a traditional St. Basil Day cake, or New Years cake. And its not even cake, more like sweet bread. It says Xronia Polla 2002 on its top and it has a gold coin inside. Youre supposed to cut a piece for everyone at your table, plus pieces for Jesus and the Virgin and St. Basil and dead people and whoever else you can think of. And, as the flatmate jovially added, the cockroaches. Which is perhaps why its so enormous. Lordy. It feels nice to take part in random cultural traditions like this. At about 5 p.m., I solidified the evenings plans with the flatmate, Coral. She had been working all day on a simple book review, but the shit just wasnt flowing. It was literary constipation, if you will. It was making her cranky and whiney and tedious. Apparently she was also sad because half of her New Years Eve plans had fizzled. The original plan was to go out with me, her boyfriend and his best friend - a gorgeous poet, not too bad, eh? - to the main city square for the big countdown festivities then afterwards to a suburb to meet up with two other couples and go to a strip club. Nice couples activity, eh? Hmmm. The plans were foiled when they discovered the trains stopped running at 11 p.m. and there was no convenient way to get in and out of the suburbs otherwise, since traffic was monstrous and taxis were impossible to find. I regarded New Years plans with peculiar interest this year. I took note of everyones chosen way to herald in the new year as if they were deciding how they wanted to die. Wow, Coral wanted to go out in a strip club. Seemed apt. Me, I just wanted to make sure I wasnt alone. Many others decided to spend it in bed. I can identify the source of such weird thinking: Last Night. Good film. Saw it a few days ago. So what did we end up doing? Well, Coral, me and the other absentee flatmate Jane, who appeared yesterday and will be disappearing again on Thursday, all put on our coats and walked into the city center. Jane wore a little black top, jeans and an enormous silver-buckle belt almost the size as her skinny little head with painfully high-heeled boots. I wore a little black dress, fuschia tights and a Johnny-collar beige cardigan thing, with weird black and silver trainers. Coral wore her schlompiest pair of oversized khaki trousers, a maroon tee-shirt with a drawing of a bear on it, and her navy blue hoodie, with huge blocky black hiking boots and a long black overcoat. Why I feel it is important to note this, I have no idea. I guess because I think we looked an odd sight walking into the city. We left at 10:30 p.m. and walked all the way downtown - 20 minutes - buying three enormous cans of beer on the way. When we arrived at Syntagma Square, it was surprisingly not crowded. Well, it was crowded, yes, but I had been expecting Times Square-esque crowding and it was nothing like that. The place was packed, however, with a disproportionate amount of gypsies and scary-looking young men who stared at us lecherously as we squeezed by. And it wasnt all that happening. There was no ball hoisted atop a high stand, waiting to be dropped. There was only an enormous fake Christmas tree and a stage with a weird Latin band performing. I saw one mime buying a gyro from a wee little gyro stand, but that was it for other entertainment. And Jane was getting claustrophobic and skeeved out by the guys, so I suggested we head up to the Areopagus, an enormous slippery rock just underneath the Acropolis, which offers an unparalleled view of the city. I had this idea in my head that there would be a cheesy laser light show on the Acropolis at midnight, or at the very least fireworks. And I figured there would be a rowdy crew up there drinking in darkness. So we climbed up through Plaka, which was eerily deserted. We walked by ancient monuments dramatically lit up, past a pair of street musicians playing a gorgeous mournful tune on an empty street corner. As we got to the top, others came out of nowhere, mostly foreigners (including three German guys, one very cute), and followed us to the Areopagus. There were about 30 motorcycles parked at the base of the rock and the sound of plenty of people up top. We were worried it would be too crowded, but it wasnt. It was perfect. We got a choice spot near the edge and settled down, cracking open our beers. It had been about 11:30 when we left Syntagma, and it seemed that midnight would be approaching any minute. We wondered how wed know. Coral was the only one with a watch, and not a very accurate one at that. The rowdy crowd of young Greeks and random foreigners was not very organized. One especially drunk group started into a long, painful rendition of an Ole ole cheer as Corals watch struck midnight, but everyone else was silent. And there were no fireworks. Then a large group of tourists started a countdown (at 50) and we doubted that was accurate, but as they screamed One! fireworks sprang out of the roof of Parliament. Amazing! We clinked beer cars and lit sparklers I had brought and watched as about 15 separate fireworks displays lit up the sky. We could see for miles, into suburbs 40 minutes from the city center, all the way to the sea and the mountains. The main Athens display was by far the best, but there were also some pretty red flares going off in Kifissia, and Patissia, and ooooh look at that one in Pireaus! It was fantastic! And just as the fireworks ended, the church bells began to peal all over the city, which was also a fantastic effect. We stayed up there for about half an hour - no laser light show at the Acropolis, unfortunately - during which time the cute German tried to chat us up, but Coral was terribly rude. I gave him a sparkler, which he waved around a bit with a forced smile and said This is fun! Ha! Then we headed to Psirri for a drink, weaving around ancient sites again along the way. Psirri is this hip area, set in a restored red-light district. We had been there several times on hot summer evenings, when the sidewalks and parking lots and streets were overflowing with café tables and fashionable youth. There are several innovative tavernas there, and an area rocket salad specialty. Anyway, it wasnt as fun in winter; all the tables were inside and hardly anyone was outside, even though it was practically sweater weather at 15 degrees. We ended up at this tiny place, hidden behind a parking lot, where we had gone out for drinks with an older American woman this summer. We were told there was a 10,000 drachma ($25) minimum, set menu for the night, and that all restaurants were doing that. We decided to splurge. Good excuse to eat and drink a lot, anyway. We got a table wedged between this silent family - mom wearing a scary black dress with spider-style sleeves - and a punk couple. The other room was filled with older women in slinky sequined dresses and fur coats and their heavily-cologned husbands. Behind us, there were a few anorexic girls in mini skirts and shiny tube tops. Coral, dressed in schlompwear, beamed at the spectacle. There was a live band playing traditional Greek folk music, and the old ladies were clapping and swaying and singing along in glee. Despite the size of the place and lack of vacant floor, I knew there would be dancing by the end of the night. We did not have to wait long. These two old ladies kept jumping up and dancing for the benefit of the entire establishment. I hoped they were really drunk. At the end, even the young girls were dancing, and we commented on the weird traditional Greek revival among the youth. At one point this young gypsy boy pulled up a chair and plopped down on it, hugging a little drum. The kid couldnt have been older than 10. But he was fucking incredible! A lil prodigy drummer boy. Everyone looked on, astounded, as he bent over his drum and whacked away. He had this world-weary look. He looked like a little man as he bent over and then sat up and glanced at the ceiling in almost studied indifference. The kid had attitude. And in the break he reached down, pulled up a bottle of Coke, and dramatically took a swig as if it was beer. We giggled. It was adorable. Then he disappeared after only three songs and we sadly commented on the fact that he was probably called downstairs to do dishes or something. Three hours and two carafes of wine later, we headed home. It was 4 a.m. and there were no taxis in sight, so we walked all the way back. Along the way, we stopped at an ATM and withdrew our very first Euro bill! It was crisp and clean and so weird-looking. Coral squealed with glee. I was a bit disappointed the ATM was working; I had been expecting some awful week-long Euro-introduction disaster that would rival the Y2K scare in form and scope, and was a bit disappointed that things were going smoothly so far. Ah well. Then we passed the city hall, where I noticed three freakish looking camels standing near an enormous nativity set. I had brought my camera along for the evening, but had yet to use it. So I begged Coral to go pose with the camels, and of course, got more than I bargained for. For, after pretending to mount a camel, she ran into the nativity set to pose with the baby Jesus and announced with a devilish glint in her eyes that I couldnt expect her to enter a nativity set and not take a souvenir. Oh dear. She started to shove baby Jesus in her bag, but I screamed, Not Baby Jesus! Thats sacriledge! Not like Im religious really, but I couldnt help but remember two years ago when I was a reporter in a small town in Massachusetts and the cops reported that Baby Jesus had been stolen from the town nativity set and everyone treated it as if it were the worst crime ever. People are really attached to their Baby Jesuses. I remember the huge sigh of relief when Jesus was returned after a town-wide plea was issued. Anyway, I convinced her not to take Jesus. Instead, she picked up a sheep and started to run in the direction of Omonia Square. A sheep! The size of a very large dog! Under one arm, casual-like. Jane had been off staring at the sky, waiting us to finish with our funny photos, mindlessly listening to two Greek girl gossip when suddenly the girls stopped, started giggling insanely and pointed in the direction of the fleeing Coral. Jane looked up in horror as she realized her flatmate was running off with a nativity sheep, and started running after me, who was walking briskly in the opposite direction. Ha! The three of us congregated again in Omonia Square. We actually thought we had lost Coral and the sheep - how this is possible I do not know - when we saw a little sheep head pop out from behind a kiosk and look in our direction. I almost peed my pants. We started walking along Omonia, haven for 4 a.m. activity and drug transactions, as casual as possible. A few people stared, sure. One druggie approached, saying nice doggie, then drew back in horror realizing it was in fact a large fake sheep. Poor dear probably thought he was having hallucinations. Amazingly, we got the sheep home without incident, even pausing for a few photos. We named him Angelis, after angel (since he was, after all, rescued from a manger) and what we guessed was the greek word for sheep. Angelis has a patch of loose wool at the very top of his head - he seems to be wearing a piece - and one of his hooves seems damaged. His wool is a bit dirty. But hes a good lamb. His new home is the corner of our living room, near the door. He has this look about him, as if he is in motion, approaching you from across the room, maybe coming in off the balcony. He looks up at you. Very life-like. Its uncanny. Ive already had two scares when I walked to the bathroom, forgetting he was there, and felt his eyes on me. Eeps! We might move him around the apartment at random, like we do with this little fake caterpillar in the kitchen. Gives him a bit of life and excitement, and spices up our holdrum home life. Before going to bed, we cut the New Years cake. Coral cut eight pieces - one for each of us, one for Angelis, one for Jesus, one for the Virgin Mary, one for the Father and one for the House. So far, none has gotten the golden coin, but Coral says the Virgin always tends to get the damn thing. Overall, a pretty good evening Id say. For exclusive photos of Angelis the Sheep: www.geocities.com/dahling007/photos8.htm You will also be treated with a rather frighening photo of yours truly, ass-poppin' style. Don't say I didn't warn you. Hope y'all had a nice day and a super duper year to come. What ever happened to that bowling tournament? I wanna know ho the sini bowling champion of the world is! Ken? MWAH! ~dahling _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: I know it...
by Katia913＠aol.com 01 Jan '02

01 Jan '02

Sinister, Although i wont be the first to post everywhere, maybe i will in Chicago. Happy new years everyone, maybe this year will be better than the last, although it hasn't been all that bad. Today has been good though! and tomorrow will be better. Details come to those who want... much luck to everyone. kate p.s. Niko- thanks so much for the CDS, its as close as I have ever gotten, and maybe as close as I will get. You didn't need to get me both, but i love you for it! p.p.s. Jeremy- drop me a line, where have you been lately? +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: her whole family are entertainers in Branson
by Melmoz 31 Dec '01

31 Dec '01

Hello to all in the Sinister world! Christmas has come and gone here in Texas, though this morning we got a small, finite dusting of snow. It was all gone and melted by 9am though in my part of the country. Now New Year's is upon me and I do not look upon its arrival with disapprobation. Let me tell you how much I love coming in to work everyday to find emails from all you lovelies out there! It makes my day much brighter to be able to imagine your lives and the cities that you live in. Living here all my life I can only see so much of life itself. I love to imagine all the things you talk about and the troubles you find yourself in. It is a good release valve for all of us to have, I believe. Well my duty has been performed by introducing a new list member to the group recently! VWest will be joining us soon after his stint in the nursery, and I am anxious to hear what he has to say about life. Welcome V! He has an absolutely stunning taste in music, in home furniture, and in friends (he recently picked my best friend Stacey and myself as pals)! He has the coolest house I have ever seen. Very Scandinavian. Not to mention the very cool and auspicious ba-gua skylight. On Saturday night, we three hung out at his pad and had a blast. We got Mexican food from this cool little shack, called a 'tacquiera' in Spanish. On the way there and back we played an interesting and somewhat difficult game of 'name that tune' in his car. I was amazed by his knowledge! When we got back to the house, we ate and talked, then we drove out to Tower Records in Dallas to buy some cd's. I picked up some good ones. The Reindeer Section is totally brilliant, thanks to whoever it was on the list who recommended them. I also got TBS, Rufus Wainwright, Tom Waits and Pulp. I got the Pulp idea from someone on the list too who recommended 'Pencil Skirt', which is now one of my fave songs! Thanks to all of you that I have gotten ideas from. Also, you guys should check out Spain, they are awesome. When we got back from that, we listened to music for a long time in his 'music room', then we watched High Fidelity. An awesome night that ended around 3am! I can't wait for the next one! Also, I got the Pete Yorn cd, and I highly approve of it as well. Hope that the four people I sent presents to liked them. I know that I forgot to send my Sinister handle with the package so you knew who it was from, but if you got a package from Melissa Williams from Texas then this is me! I really enjoyed the ones I have received so far. Kate (Katia913) sent me the coolest aqua hand knitted scarf that is so long and fluffy, and it works so well right now in our relative-Texas cold. I got another gift from someone (forgot the name on the gift right now, what it Chin?) that was a clay figure of a rock star with his guitar, assuming it was supposed to be Stuart or something but it was entirely broken into little pieces. All the same I loved it anyway, along with the stocking of candy with my name on it. I don't think that I have ever made New Year's Resolutions, and I am not about to start now. I just need to keep up with my workout routine and not buy too many cd's (OK, Vince, you can stop laughing at that one, you know how much I spend!). I have started work on my Master's degree now and my first semester ended in grades of all A's, so that was good. Now I begin work on the proper courses that are IT intensive, so that should be fun! Programming is such a blast. I wish I knew how to express myself better in words. If you can believe it, I am much worse in person.Astrid, I love reading your posts about your life! Reminds me of when I was young. I remember the point when I stopped being so self-conscious and thought 'what the hell, who cares what others think'. It is a great feeling. Of course, Stacey Dahling's posts are totally interesting with the Athens perspective. I hope that this new year brings lots of good fortune to everyone. Lord knows we could all use some good luck. Happy New Year everyone, Melmoz p.s. Why don't I live in the UK so I could visit you guys and get to go to B&S shows and Sinister get-togethers? I am so jealous of the lot of you over there! I think that us four Texans that I know should get together some time and have our own party, then we can rant and rave about it and make everyone jealous of us for a change! &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& "It was dark as I drove the point home, and on cold leather seats, well it suddenly struck me, I just might die with a smile on my face after all." -The Smiths &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: Beer Maps
by Madeleine McNeil 31 Dec '01

31 Dec '01

Stacey Dahling said: >Let it be noted that I will be seeing out 2001 wearing black knickers, a >racy black bra, and black and white striped socks. Such things are >important. Duly noted. But is that all? I thought about taking a second of the day to think of all the things that I have done this year. Then I got sidetracked by my new eye shadow. Actually, the loved one and I discussed our year over a few cheeky G&Ts last night. And we decreed that verily, this has been the best year ever. Perhaps. Maybe. Things have been better this year than ever, but I shan't bore people with all my "and then in May I did this ace thing, oh, and June was pretty good too....". Just that for a while I was in the wilderness and I finally feel like I've got an atlas to my life now. Or maybe just a wee map scrawled on the back of a beer mat, but that's enough for now. I don't have much planned for 2002, just getting pissed and eating toast (I think it's important to aim for the attainable). I do have a resolution: learn how to cook a roast dinner. I'm crap at cooking, but very good at eating. Some things are just sooooo unfair. Sorry, this really is a rubbish post. I just wanted to say hello and thank you to all the new people I've met this year since I joined Sinister in March. You're all very special and you have gone a long way to making the year so ace for me. I've met some of the kindest, most generous, genuine, smutty people this year on the list and have learn all sorts of fascinating facts about other cultures (did you know, for example, that a 'lollybag' is a man's 'package' in tight Y-fronts in Australian? See, the modern internet really is an educational tool). Thank you to Bad Girl in Training Honey, for managing us all and keeping an eye on us. I am very fond of you, one and all. Bulk Love and New Year Good Wishes Madeleine xxx _________________________________________________________________ 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: Many of our festivals celebrate moments of light or darkness
by Will Salt 31 Dec '01

31 Dec '01

This post is for *you* I can never think of subject lines. Dimitra picked this one for me. She spotted it in an art gallery in Sheffield, on a board explaining vision and shape and form and sight, trying to explain to everybody that artists can see the world in different ways to everyone else. I'm not sure if they can really. I mean: I'm not sure if they are *different* to everyone else; they are just better trained. More practised. We are having a Sinister Christmas this year. Greek Dimitra is visiting, from Greece, and we have taken over the stereo and made my parents listen to all sorts of music they have never heard before. "A lot of these songs seem to be about cigarettes," said my mother, listening to the Tindersticks. Dimitra arrived in Britain a long long time ago now. It was over a fortnight ago, in fact. I met her off of the train, and we went to the pub. I told her lots of exciting things, and showed her the large variety of fried food which can be obtained in a Scottish chip shop. "Don't you die if you eat all that stuff?" she said. On Christmas Eve I went out to dinner with some old friends. We ate and drank, and went into the town centre. I realised that last year, I did the very same thing and came home and posted about it. Looking back, it feels like *that* was the start of the last year, and Christmas Day last week was the start of the new year, not tonight. Time to tear up all the calendars and start writing in the new ones. Before Christmas, I went to Dundee for the weekend to visit Dimitra and Rachel and Danny. Rachel was feeling bossy, and arranged a weekend of "educational fun" for all of us. We went to the cinema, made our own CD, and cooked some rather spicy food. Belle the Kissing Dog was very licky, and kept barking at the hamster when the rest of us were trying to concentrate. If you want to reread the post I wrote last Christmas, you could go and look it up in the archives. I would tell you the address, but the archives don't seem to like me right now, so I can't find it. The same happened this Christmas as the last one, except that this year I sat talking to a girl I used to be in love with. We didn't talk about much important. But we talked, and that was nice. She looked like anyone else from that town does. Me and Dimitra looked like Sinister people, rather out of place. We weren't comfortable in the noisy, hot, cramped bars; but I stayed and talked anyhow. I did lots of other things with Dimitra whilst she was here. We went to a Belle and Sebastian gig, which was good, and then I stayed up all night with Danny and Matt and Calumn and Ken in an expensive-but-cosy cafe. The cafe had a bathtub in it, filled with water and with fish swimming around. Midway through the night, a group of men came in. One by one, they walked up to the bathtub and dipped the tops of their heads in it before being shown out by the doorman. I'm not sure what they were doing, or why. I hope the fish aren't poisoned now by cheap hair gel. They didn't look too healthy to start with. Also, I took Dimitra to the beach and she spun round in circles. We went to Sheffield and met John from Leicester. We sat around in my parents' house and drank vodka. On Christmas night, when all was dark, we sat leant back in my parents' big leather armchairs, listening to B&S on the stereo, and I told Dimitra about the girl she had just met. Who she was in my life story. I fetched down from my bedroom the box of letters I keep from her, from when I was younger, and we read through some of them. They touched me, greatly. If this is the new year, then I should start making resolutions. I resolve to change things this year. I resolve to change myself. All the changes I've made in the past year were on the inside, hidden under my clothes. Well, some of them were hidden out in the open, but they were still hidden. This year I want to change the things on the outside. Maybe I should wear my hair in pigtails more often, and be proud of it. Maybe I should change my voice. I've never liked the sound of my voice. I want to get back in touch with the girl I wrote letters to back when I was in school. [in case you haven't been to the archives, I loved this girl. we wrote letters to each other every week even though we saw each other every day but hardly spoke. then she got a boyfriend and stopped.] I want to get in touch with her just because I want to know what she is doing and thinking now, and I want her to know what I am thinking now. I told her nearly everything about myself back then. Maybe if I write to her again, I can tell her the rest of it. Tonight I am going to go out, and tomorrow I am going to rest. The day after, I want to go out and buy a notebook, so I can start writing things down. If I start writing things down, I will get better at putting things into words. If I start putting things into words, I might be able to explain things a little better. If I can do that, I will be able to do anything. Maybe even have plaited hair in public a bit more often. lots of love to all of you. it's wintertime, so stand round a bonfire, look up at the stars, and hug each other whilst thinking how far away and beautiful they are. xxxxx will -- Will Salt ICQ 66321009 http://www.btinternet.com/~wpsalt/ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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: mourning the lack of space odyssey revivals
by stacey dahling 31 Dec '01

31 Dec '01

My family has this weird New Years tradition. It all started 25 years ago with a bottle of cheap champagne. My parents were getting together with this other couple on New Years Eve, celebrating a midnight over said bottle of champagne, brought by the non-host couple. When they emptied said bottle, someone had the brilliant idea of writing out their New Years resolutions and predictions on teeny slips of paper, slipping them inside the bottle and sealing the bottle with wax. Then the bottle was handed over to the host couple with the words, next year you come to our house, with the bottle, and we open the resolutions and see how many came true. So the host couple did just that. A year later, they showed up with the bottle, but the silly young things that they were played a trick on the other couple, pretending they had forgotten the bottle, disguising it in a fruit basket or something. Thus began a tradition that continues to this day. Every year, this couple meets with my parents, they alternate locations. The bottle is brought, decorated or disguised in clever ways. One year it was baked in a cake. Another - my favorite - a Cabbage Patch doll was beheaded, stuffing was removed, and the bottle was slipped inside and carried in all swaddled in clothes, looking suspiciously like a real baby. The bottle is bursting with 25 years worth of resolutions and they have great fun reading them all over again each year. Imagine reading resolutions at 50 years old that you made when you were 25! Every other year, however, around Dec. 27, my parents start running around the house in a mad frenzy, trying to come up with ideas about how to decorate the bottle. It gets tough after 25 years, I guess. Last time I think my dad rigged up this complicated mini-fireworks display, propelled out of the bottle. Silly nuclear physicists! Anyway, my sister and I tried to copy this tradition, with the couples daughter, with a ginger ale bottle, when we were 10. It didnt work as well, nor last as long. Maybe someday Ill have someone to do this with. There is a Greek saying that, roughly translated, goes: Those who walk the streets at night get poo on their shoe. I giggled when I first heard this. But now now I know its true. I was up walking the streets this morning at the ass-crack of dawn, apparently before all the earnest old ladies attack the sidewalk with hose and broom. Dont fret. I didnt get any poo on my shoe. But under veil of night I just mighta. There was shit everywhere! And not just in neat lil piles, but in smooshed lil streaks, as if someone had not only stepped in it, but slipped and fell in it. My heart went out to these poor souls. I imagined them walking home along the brothel street after a nice end-of-the-year paid shag, feeling quite pleased with themselves, when suddenly Shit! Literally. Speaking of weird sightings at 8 a.m. - today I saw two children walking from storefront to storefront jangling bells and singing songs. I thought this very odd at first, another syndrome of the weird Christmas-is-over-but-the-Athenians-refuse-to-admit-it thingie. Carolers? On Dec. 31? Then, as I was sitting here writing this and the doorbell went off three times at fucking 8:30 a.m. and I was cursing and wondering what the world was coming to, I heard the distant sound of more bells and children voices. And I remembered something about some tradition... children door to door singing for change or candy or something? Oooh! How exciting then! Another cultural first! I must research. Eek! I just looked in the mirror and realized I have Brady-Bunch era Florence Henderson hair today! Well, at least I can comfort myself in the knowledge that the rest of me does not look like Florence Henderson. This woman at work really did look like Florence Henderson. I wonder what that feels like, waking up one day, at age 55, and realizing you look like an old Florence Henderson. Let it be noted that I will be seeing out 2001 wearing black knickers, a racy black bra, and black and white striped socks. Such things are important. Okay..off to certain death at the hands of a pair of eight-year-old devils, on armed with a brand spanking new BB GUN. How can parents be so dumb? Kronia polla! MWAH! ~dahling _________________________________________________________________ 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: It's December and I'm cold
by MyMomSays＠aol.com 31 Dec '01

31 Dec '01

Half of yesterday was wonderful. I went with close friends off to the big city to look at records and eat food. My sisters and my friend Nicole ended up dining at a gimmicky mexican restaurant called "Casa Bonita": it's quite an odd place--it looks like a historic building, but it's located in a strip mall. Odd juxtaposition. I think I've posted about it before, a long, long time ago, when I first joined the list. On the drive back we all had a very weird conversation--about dreams, about the disappointment of never being able to be anyone else--and mainly about this strange sinking feeling, a nostalgia of sorts, like a longing to be outside of your own body--I've had this feeling ever since I was a kid, it leaves as quickly as it comes, but it seems to be indescribable. My older sister told us all that as a child she referred to this feeling as "the pear." I thought that was interesting. >From now on, even though as I've gotten older I have this feeling less and less, I will constantly think of eating a pear whenever I feel it again. For those of you who are interested--I found out that in the latest issue of "Open City", Stuart David has an article/story (not sure what it was, I only got a chance to glance at it)--but, anyhow, it looks interesting. Go Stuart, good job on your success in getting published! So this conversation in the car seemed to be somewhat of a precursor of things to come. When I came home I discovered that after a four-month struggle, my dog died. I keep seeing a phantom Reggie, keep expecting him to toddle into my room and settle down to sleep in a pile of dirty clothes. But he's not here. I had to keep myself occupied today so I wouldn't have to think of it. I know that I'm an adult and that I shouldn't get so emotional about a dog, but I can't help it. He was like a person to me; I mean, christ, I loved that dog. Sometimes he seemed to understand me. I feel so schmaltzy saying all of this, but it's true. I will miss calling him by his various nicknames--Reggums, buddy, baby, snowball, snowwy, ol' powderhorn, big fella--gosh, and I will miss the strange noises my dad makes whenever he sees him, my dad does something to the effect of a screaming baby talk, "OOOOOH! BIG FELLA! LOOK AT THE BIG PUPPY!" But mostly, I think I'll miss hanging out with Reggie at the top of the steps where he'd always sit. And as he'd see me walking up the stairs, he'd do his stretched-out-anticipating wiggle. So, rest in peace big fella. You certainly made my life better. Oh--special props go out to Youn, who may be the only person who reads my posts. Oh--and also--for those of you who are to receive Xmas gifts from me: I'm sorry I was so slow in sending them out. I promise you, they are on their way. They will have to be New Years gifts and not Xmas ones. thank you, mandee m a y +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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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