Deary me, what an annoying day yesterday. While waiting for a bus I realised that someone had nicked the batteries I was going to put in my walkman from my pocket, along with my chewing gum. This meant that I had to sit on a bus for half an hour without music, which is rubbish in itself. Bloody hell, what a tragic state of affairs I hear you say, surely things cannot get any worse. Well chums, they did. I got to the club where Vic Godard was playing only to find out the bleedin' gig had been cancelled. Bollocks. Then I played pool for the rest of the night, missed my last bus home by literally 20 seconds and had to pay 14 quid for a taxi home. Double bollocks. Anyway, Keith:
and it will feature the DJ-ing "talents" of myself, Claire Timmins, Mick and Alasdair Cooke (not Alasdair from the list, but Mick (48) Cooke's Brother).
Bloody hell, bet that gave every Glasgow listee a stroke. Keith would have to be barmy to let me and my record collection loose on an unsuspecting public. I mean there'd be no 70s WHO for a start. Mind you, Klur's doing it and she freely admits to being shit, so I suppose anything goes. Steve:
Didn't you just bloody know that we would get England in the Euro 2000 play-offs?.I mean granted if we qualify at their expense it'll be yay! and dancing in the streets,but what if THEY win?.(I'll reach for the razor-blades and end it all).On a more positive note,we could have a sinister Scotland/England thing...poetry and lyric reciting,singing and dancing rather than thugs jumping on each other's heads.Imagine.
Can't we jump on each other's heads instead, it'd be far more fun. During my trips down to London it's been all I can do to stop myself laying into all those English types with a garden chair and a pitchfork. Perhaps we should all congregate in a pub in Switzerland to watch the games. Do you know in today's Daily Record, the first 8 pages (plus the back 7 pages) are taken up with stuff about the game. Far more important than those silly Scottish fighter pilots who died, who are deservingly on page 9. Juicy:
Just realised that parentheses must be as catchy as crabs because I've obviously caught brackets off somebody on this list. Better than rickets I suppose. But you can't catch rickets because it's caused by vitamin deficiency or something.
Vitamin D deficiency to be precise. And vitamin A deficiency causes night-blindness, vitamin B deficiency causes beri beri and vitamin C deficiency causes scurvy. That may be the single most boring thing I've ever said (which is saying something), but I've just realised it's about the only thing I've ever read that I can remember, apart from stuff about football. Martin:
And while on the intercourse theme and the Atlantic divide in its linguistic reference could someone eleborate on the baseball analogy for courting*. That is, what exactly has to be done to be on 1st, 2nd, 3rd base and get a home run*.
Let me explain Martin. 1st base: This involves seeing a pretty girl who works in a cafe, bookshop or record store, and frequenting the establishment as much as possible. A form of stalking if you will, only without the need to hide behind lamposts. 2nd base: This involves finding out the girl's name. It might be "Brenda" or "Alison" or even "Moon Unit". 3rd base: This involves touching. Don't get scared now kids, I'm talking about cunningly brushing up against said girl, perhaps while she is serving coffee or rearranging the sale items. Bonus points are scored if you can get her to brush up against your naughty bits. Even more bonus points are scored if you can get her naughty bits to brush against your naughty bits. Home run: This involves talking. Since your mouth will be very dry, it is prudent to carry an emergency flask of ribena as a saliva substitute. This will also mean that you will smell nice, like blackberries. Go up to the girl, say "hello, my name is (insert name). I like you" in a squeaky voice, then run as fast as you can until you get home (hence the term "home run") and never go back into the shop ever again. If you do go back the girl may say that she likes you back, which would be disastrous and could lead to the rubbing of naughty bits WITHOUT CLOTHES. This is too be avoided at all costs as you will inevitably be TOO SMALL and will eventually have to kill yourself. Hope that clarifies things for you Robbo. I'm off to pull loads of birds my passing myself off as Mick Cooke's brother. This'll be too easy. Alasdair xx +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the reborn Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail "sinister@majordomo.net". To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to "majordomo@majordomo.net". WWW: http://www.majordomo.net/sinister +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "tech-heads and students" +-+ +-+ "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+ +-+ "jelly-filled danishes" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+