I laid on my sofa in my PJs this morning, rereading a Douglas Coupland novel and watching swallows circle the blue sky. I suddenly realised that everything I could see from that position outside the window, other than the sky, was grey or beige -- the wall that runs alongside the road, and the other buildings of the housing scheme. The sky, though, was bright blue. Yesterday was Picnic Day, because Big Gay Mark was up in Scotland visiting everyone. We all trooped along to West 13th and stole each other's chips. Mark asked us all how long it takes to have a wank, and the boys decided they wanted to play football. Everyone else followed to watch, except Carey who wanted to sit on her own in the pub. The boys footballed and got all sweaty, I played Tig with idleberry and danny, and Belle had to be protected from an amorous beagle. I wanted to do something intellectual, and write a pastiche, or an acrostic post which spelt out something apt or delightful. That would be too much like work on a sunny Sunday, though. Instead I read a book, and found something which really sums up my attitude to food shopping: "I saw this documentary about how codfish have been gill-netted into extinction in Newfoundland in Canada, so I went out to Burger King to get a Whaler fishwich-type breaded deep-fried filet sandwich while there was still time." (Douglas Coupland, still). After the footballers got tired and/or needed the loo, we wandered over to the Tap on Sauchiehall Street, so we could play pool. The pool tables were crowded though, so we took over the other half of the bar instead. Various couples got romantic, and there was lots of under-table thigh-stroking going on. The normals in the pub pointed and laughed. We all mingled and wandered around a bit, and talked - at least until a loud DJ arrived, and all we could do was shout at the people nearest. When I'm in the supermarket, I look at the fish fridge and I see re-formed oven-crisp-battered lumps of cod and haddock. I think: "but the North Sea is almost a biological desert! Cod and haddock are close to extinction." Then, I think: "which means that in five years I won't be able to get *any* oven-crisp battered fish, with all the bones whipped out. Give it to me now!" I'm a greedy bitch, the same as nearly everyone. Eventually, I had to go and get the train home, so me and Danny wandered off to the Low Level line and packed into a train along with hundreds of Rod Stewart fans. I didn't think any of them were sexy. I wonder what happened at the picnic after I left. Incidentally, Sweetie told me that she went into Burger King, and asked for a cheeseburger. "Um," said the spotty-faced teenage assistant. Stereotyping, me? Yes, as you asked, I *can* use two keyboards at once. Anyway. "Um," said the assistant, "we're out of burgers." It's really not what you expect from somewhere called Burger King. I can understand rival fast-food chains saying things like "Sorry, we're all out of scary white-faced paedophile clowns." I guess there's a warning to us all here. God knows what it actually is, though. love xx caitlin -- http://www.joannou.net/topofthestairs/ "When life gives us lemons, we just sit there and sulk about it, in the corner of the room, in a fetal position." - Matthew Henderson, on the Sinister mailing list. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+