Walking down to town avoiding the dyspeptic shivering pigeons pecking at last night's festive vomit only half washed away by the graceful early morning rain that woke me falling against the bathroom skylight. Thinking in a Friday daze that I have to unsubscribe once again due to the unchancy nature of temping. Listening to the tompaulin album which finally arrived yesterday from Rough Trade along with a bundle of other lovely stuff. I must admit I'm quite a convert to vinyl, but just for things like singles that I'll only listen to at home, as a Dansette is kind of bulky even for my capacious tweed coat-pockets. 'On the buses' would have been tritely appropriate, so I was glad to sink into the wonderful double bill of 'kicking and punching' and 'the boy hairdresser' as my Stagecoach stagecoach drew away from stand 11. Waiting through a last day of bad radio - full of all the crap that is thought of as seasonal. I'd quite like to hear David Bowie and Bing Crosby doing 'Little Drummer Boy' for full-on surrealism value (what in hell went through their coke-addled minds?), but I'll settle for Nat King Cole, who is the least offensive option, or so it seems to me. I'd rather listen to 'Why That Doesn't Surprise Me' by The Lucksmiths, though, so maybe I'll sneak it into the CD player later. Sometimes I'll get an album when it comes out and just not feel like listening to it, then after a while I'll have an epiphany. Not anally indie-punctual, but it suits me. Oh, those Luckies. Three lovely lads, two of them bleedin' gorgeous and also moderately talented songwriters, one somewhat less blessed with the pretty stick and a complete bloody genius. 'Are you torn in two When I talk to you? 'Cause I'm torn in three When you talk to me' Candle Records, yum. Get stuff sent from Australia, blimey, and it's still cheaper than buying it in the UK. Eurgh, the novelty earrings and forced corporate good cheer is getting to me. I suppose I should make an effort to rid myself of habitual seething contempt when confronted by such social lubricants, but I'll probably stick with the angst for a while yet. Well, that's me, I suppose. Replies, comments, abuse to: lizdaplyn@hotmail.com for the forseeable future. Liz D :x +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the 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 +-+ "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 +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+