Bon soir chickadees. Composite post assembled from snippets typed hastily at work. Has taken rather longer than 15 minutes to compose. Like about a week. So I’ve reclaimed my portable stereo from the living room where it’s resided lonely as a cloud since our last party in the flat (next one’s going to have a “Bond or Bondage” theme, ladies and gents in the Oxford area), and brought it back triumphal to my room in the eaves with the sloping roof and the lumpy but comfortable futon, and now I can listen to music as I’m falling asleep again. In particular our olde friends (3…6…9…Seconds and Modern Rock Song E.P.s the other night – I fell asleep halfway through I Know Where The Summer Goes that’s where it’s going, snatched away cruelly by weeeerk and sleeping) and, last night, Lambchop. I had to listen to The Man Who Loved Beer three times before I could let the CD carry on, and I don’t normally believe in interfering with the running order of albums. “Febbbruerry to December: we had such-a trag-IC year As. Seprutt as the fingerrz; And - Suddenly, As one As. The. Hand” To put it in an eec stylee. The man Kurt Wagner, despite sharing his surname with a minging operameister, is a genius.

That was a bit from last week. Last nite I listened to Bach’s “Well-tempered Clavier, Book 1”. Mmmmmm, harpsichords. The world of popular music needs more of them. Mind you, they’d be a bugger to take on tour. But then I could be employed full-time as a harpsichord-tuning roadie! Thus my fiendish plan to take over the popscene may be realised… “One. One, two. Triad. Augmented 7th. One. Bwahahahaha!” Spent the weekend singing in Ripon cathedral on a choir tour. Very nice indeed, although the post-harvest muckspreading got a bit aromatic at times. Also, camping in North Yorkshire, even in midsummer, is probably not the most comfortable method of insomnia-inducement. Bloody sheep. Whatever has happened to Eighteen Wheeler? Is there no longer a market for plaintive/brutal Scots pop-rock which has always had a dance element? Evidently not. Seeing as how the picnic season got off in such fine style with the efforts on the Not-So-Twin Hills of Greenwich and Primrose for the Southern ponce elemen (+ honorary Southern ponces), not to mention the alarums and excursions in Sheffield (home of my ancestors), Glasgow, my sweet old etcetera, howsabout having one in superfoppish Oxford to round the summer off nicely? Our numbers here are growing, and with a suitable display of Miffy backpacks and knee-high socks I’m sure we could beat the townies and students at their own game: namely, getting ratted and falling over… I could also possibly provide punts from my bastion of privilege (see email address) if people want to try falling in the river. Come home, Lixibell! I suggest that the weekend after the London piquenique would be eminently suitable, to avoid conflict with the million other things that people want to do over the Bank Holiday weekend. On the other hand, I could just get me coat. Whatever, I'll see a small proportion of youse lot in Greenwich at some point. Just tell me when and where to turn up, 'cos I is a submissive girlie type. Hah. Anyhoo, back to photocopying. You wouldn’t believe how exciting the office equipment is around here – the copier staples things for you and everything.

Wrote that last bit while still at work, unsurprisingly. This disjointed writing-at-lots-of-different-times game is playing merry hell with my prose style, I can tell ya. Now typing in my flatmate’s bedroom while she packs to go home for the weekend. “Nice crate assembly, Bec!” So, I’ll bid thee all adieu and toodle off for a cup of tea, then. Tara a bit. Liz :x "Love without hope, as when the young birdcatcher Swept off his tall hat to the Squire's own daughter; So let the imprisoned larks escape and fly Singing about her head, as she rode by." Robert Graves +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+