Kids, Can the recovering music snobs form some sort of self-help club? "Hi, my name is Jennifer and I hate anyone who doesn't have an original copy of Tigermilk." You can choose any higher power, but it can't be a Scottish musician. Falling of the wagon is equated with going to see your favorite bands and glaring at the "poseurs" in audience. Moved into DC this weekend (my new roommate is fellow (ex)listee Eran. It's like the phenomena where a butterfly dies in Japan, and eventually it effects who the next president of Argentina is or something--Belle and Sebastian form and eventually I find a rent source.) Unlike Stuart Murdoch, I didn't take a break when my legs became black and blue. Curse Eran and his insanely heavy mismatched furniture. Third record on the stereo: Tigermilk. The musical equivalent to comfort food. I've not yet had a dream about B&S, but I did dream last night that this beautiful boy whom I always see at shows kept turning up at various locations (including my bedroom) with his scabby girlfriend, and they would proceed to make out and stare blankly at me. I suppose that's a scenario Bret Easton Ellis would dream up for his disaffected dollies. It certainly put me off going out tonight. Jennifer +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+