It's sad that Jeff Buckley died, I thought he had the potential to become the new Lenny Kravitz. I hope Johnny Marr does join Oasis. One thing I've always thought the pop scene could learn from heavy metal is that kind of transfer market they have, enabling people to have opinions about "Dio-era Sabbath" or "Priest now Halford's gone" or "The Purps' Little and Large years". Unfortunately, I shall be unable to attend TIGERMILKING upstairs at the Garage tonight, but I'm hoping to be able to make it in spirit. DJ Fat Slug, if you're out there - you know what I want to hear, play it! You played it for her, now you can play it for me. If she can stand it, I can stand it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life. I refer, of course, to the legendary "Sister Disco" by the 70s WHO. By the way, that was my little tribute to Alfred Hitchcock. Don't talk about baseball, there's a bomb under the table! That was another. Tonight there are two Hitchcock films and a rockumentary on the telly. I'm going to watch the lot of it, even though I think he's crap compared to Chuck Norris. Fluffy, the people you rail against are not advertising executives, they are the ironically named advertising creatives. Jimmy from The 70s WHO film "Quadrophenia" works in an advertising agency. He nicks some photos of birds and has a wank about them. He's one of us really, isn't he? By the way Sarah, the word "coasters". I don't think you learned that in the greater Preston area, did you? Too much Camden Town, young lady. Goes to your head. Next thing you know, you'll be wearing boob tubes and candy-striped trousers. Apparently there's a brain drain in Canada. Is that why Genevieve's in Detroit and Elisabeth's in Chorlton? I saw some people having it off the other day. I'd been to see the "eclipse" at the top of a big fuck-off hill, and when I got home, still thrilled by the magnificent spectacle of the light going a little tiny bit funny if you convinced yourself, I found out I'd lost my keys, so I had to go back for them that afternoon, tracing my steps like a plank. In order to trace my steps like a plank I had to pass a man with crutches standing by his car, and a few steps further on there was a "couple", completely starkers in the long grass. They weren't actually having it off, I think they'd finished, but they were sort of entwined, in a kind of post-coital serpent's embrace. I should have asked them to get up a moment and rummaged around for my keys in their bumholes, but I was a bit freaked out, to be honest. So I just walked on nonchalently, and came back later for another peek. This is all well and good, but what I want to know is, if you're going to have it off in the countryside, why choose a popular spot with loads of children running around? And what was the bloke with the crutches doing? It was a nude romp, like Cliff Richard and Sue Barker used to have. I don't know what to make of it all. The mucky pups! The radio coverage of the "eclipse" was advertised over Marvin and Tammi's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough". I'm afraid I just crumpled in a heap, sobbing like a pranny. When I listened to it "properly" the next day, it wasn't as good. But that's the magic of pop, isn't it? I saw Rob Zombie on the telly today. He's got a robot in his group. Good for him. I also saw Faith No More, they eat their own poo, the dirty devils! Sister Disco +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+