aah. You see, having posted i wait. And I wait. Then about four and a half hours later, my message still not having appeared and used as i am to them disappearing into the ether without so much as a rejection response, I re-send. And, consequently my message DOES appear twice. Arse. i apologise profusely, but I have been under some not inconsiderable strain of late. My mind has been plagued with a recent event but my therapist is an oaf with a Milwall FC pen and would not begin to understand. So, like Mel C, I turn to you my dear Sinisterettes, sure as I am of your discernment due to your avowed musical preferences. Let me illuminate you. I am a man of impeccable breeding and discernment. Sent down to improve and edify those less refined than myself by the powers that be, I have successfully infiltrated all sectors of society and bought Titian to Toxteth, Mozart to Mile End, Goethe to the Gorbals. Call me a missionary if you will, it's a position I accept. Alas, however, although my faculties are great my means are finite. Thus after a period of some self-denial, I was able to afford a fine '76 Veuve Cliquot I had been hampering after for some months. A night of joy, one will surely agree, lay ahead. But calamity lay along those darkened streets from the merchant to the maisonette. The usual hurdling of the homeless was easy enough, but how was I able to anticipate interception by a blackguardly youth? Stepping out the shadows with a Stanley knife he sneered at me. "What you got in the bag, prick?" Now, i fear no-one and nothing, and rather than take this as a threat, i decided to take it as an opportunity. To drink alone is a tragedy, so why not wean this infant off his 'Special Brew' (pah! 'tis the milk from a dastardly whore!) and introduce him to the finer things in life. My god, I could even play him Electronic Renaissance! I reached into the bag, brandished the bottle. Wanting him to read the label I thrust the bottle into his face. Oops. i swear he edged forwards but the glass shattered as swiftly as the bridge of his nose. What had I done? I had to make amends. I noticed the break (the bottle, obviously) had been clean and most of the precious nectar was still in the 60% of the receptacle i was holding by it's neck. We could still share a drink after all... I adopted the tone one must with these common types - a brusque street drawl with profane inflection. In my role as educator, I felt a paternalistic tone of address was necessary. So, parrying and thrusting (I cut a dapper figure with the foil) the bottle towards him so he could sample the bouquet, i stated "Come on sunshine, you fucking want some?", and the scamp scampered. Half a bottle gone and a social rejection in the same evening. Really, some of the plebiscite have no manners. Be slinky, a. +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the undead Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "tech-heads and students" +-+ +-+ "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+ +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "peculiarly deranged fanbase" "frighteningly named +-+ +-+ Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+