I shall respond to some points today, since I have nothing better to do with my time and since my name seems to have been dropped on occasions over the past week, almost to the point where it is displaying evidence of minor bruising. I expect no sympathy. It is, after all, only a name. On to business, firstly Mr Pinefox (one has to ask, does the 'glove' feel lonely to have been left out? This is probably a rhetorical question. Probably) who said:
If only Tim Popkins were here, it might be in order to muster some great jokes along the lines of,
Just Live Devon Stairway To Devon Devon In A Wild Flower
Or even, if I were trying to really antagonise the old man, I might propose 'Near Wild Devon'. Although he might (with any luck) have no idea what I was talking about and I would be excused a beating. And having never been to fairest Sidmouth I cannot say that 'wild' could not be further from the truth. I have absolutely no idea. Enlighten me. When staring out to sea, what does one see? Africa or South America?
I appreciate his solicitude for the treasures of the text; but I think he's mistaken, cos I said:
This list has fair exploded into a forest fire of action in the last week or so
which does not involve any explicit allusion to similitude.
Point well made, and taken in my usual good humour. Obviously I was too caught up in the blaze to study the text closely enough. Or perhaps I was just looking for a cheap laugh. It wouldn't be the first time, as many of you know. After a brief intermission, he continues:
I think 96 had been attending too many shows in Camden and getting amazing vibes about pop about pop. When I say too many shows, I mean the opposite: he'd been, he'd seen - and he'd got the picture. I think - I'd like to think - he's bang on. He bangs on, too, sometimes. Or does he?
Unfortunately no, I did not get the picture. Not on film anyway. But in my mind the exposure is fresh, and still excites me, in a strange way which possibly even I don't understand. I could have sworn that guitar was re-strung... I particularly like the way Mr Pinefox says 'about pop' twice. The second time it should be shouted. ABOUT POP! I do bang on. In an altogether unhealthy way. On to LunaLilly, who dribbled:
he looked like SM so much. But I know why in the hell would he be in Omaha. So it wasn't him. But how I wish it was and he would have slid up to my table and said "my I really like your powerpuff girl watch....and you are so lovely ...you would look so good in my car."
Which unfortunately conjured up disturbing images of Stuart M stuffing Lilly into the boot of his car, laughing all the while at some half-remembered joke, proffessing to be doing 'God's bidding' as his church crumbles down around him. But then that's complete nonsense, of course. Hey, I've just read Stuart's thing about the manpower auction. Sounds fantastic! What a top bloke. Pity I have no obvious talents to offer, and little money with which to bid. Although the money is for charity, so I may be cajoled. I often am. Then Ian piped up:
Someone mentioned breasts, so I thought I'd contribute an Alistair Cook style poem:
I'm most impressed, With your pendulous breasts, But may I suggest, It's time you got dressed.
Mmmmm....not bad....
Not bad indeed young sir, it has even inspired me: I feel such lust For your sumptuous bust That your patent disgust Is simply unjust I'm not doing drugs But I've been round at Doug's And he said that your jugs Are better than Suggs' I'd better stop now, or I'll be hit. Actually, I think I've already passed that point. I will suffer injuries, most probably. The curiously named 'DelyM2' then asked:
PS: Is there some kind of rotting tree in Glasgow that is a must see??
None that I can think of, although there may well be. There is one in Greenwich Park, but that's in London, which isn't Glasgow (despite my attempts to will it otherwise, on certain occassions). No, far more likely that you are thinking of the famous garotting flea. The garotting flea killed two people in 1977 by jumping to their neck height and strangling them with a spider's web. It was never caught by police, despite the most sophisticated magnifying glasses being used, and it never struck again after apparently suffering ligament damage when attempting to kill a Mr Perambulate of Yoker. It was so famous in fact, that a poem was written at the time by Gordon McQueen, the former Manchester United and Scotland star. It is entitled simply "The wee flea they couldnae see". The garotting flea Killed almost three Until the queen's jubilee Saw it injure it's knee Poetic, to say the most. Finally, there was Velocity Girl's rather strange dream. Quite apart from the fact that anyone who dreams of me should probably visit a hospital (oh, you have been?), I found it rather amusing, and altogether charming. Not unlike the woman herself. And on that note, I shall take my leave for today. The hills look really good at the moment, what a beautiful night. Goodbye. Alasdair xx +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+