Like a Flan obsessed with an Adam, I keep seeing Stuart Murdoch everywhere. I thought I saw him recently on the advertisement for ITV's Secret Weddings. The premise? Propose to your boyfriend, be separated instantly for three days, show up in the studio in a frock and hope that he turns up to be wed in a 30-second ceremony. Now, to me, this sounded like the GREATEST television show in the world because, presumably, some of the brutes would be saying no. But the suckahs said yes. Fools. Still, it was trash, and I'm into that. Oh, and sadly it wasn't Stuart (note to self, contacts are gooood). Although I would have been amused if his girly had donned a dress and with a rogueish grin said, "would you?" And as the crowd held their breath, he strapped on his guitar and started singing "I don't love anyone." Or maybe, just maybe, Paula Abdul's "Will you Marry Me." Although, wait. That's my crazy wooing technique. I also saw Stuart Murdoch on the 55 bus outta Hackney the other day. He was on the top deck going into the city, I was on the top deck going out of the city. We crossed paths, our eyes met, he smiled and waved and then I realised it was my flatmate wearing a scarf and hat. He DID look like Struan though. El Bizarro. In other news, there's a B+S mix floating about the airwaves - the music of "The Boy with the Arab Strap" combined with the lyrics of The Streets "Don't Mug Yourself". It's insane. And insanity RULES. Which leads me onto… … for those of you who pay attention, you might remember me bemoaning the fact that there were no songs named after me and how my nemesis - my sister - used to torture me with the number of tunes written about Caroline. Of course, with a memory like a platypus that has lost it's memory, she has very little recognition of these events ever having taken place. Which is why I literally fell off my chair when I met her for lunch in Londontown the other week and she pulled out of her bag a packet of biscuits. An odd reaction you might think, but you should know this: Normally her gifts are amazingly frugal - a mini packet of travel tissues and some maltesers for Christmas, detergent and bran flakes for birthdays - but look! Those biscuits are MARIANNA BISCUITS! Spelt correctly as well. And not only that, BUT EACH AND EVERY SINGLE BISCUIT OF ARROWROOTY GOODNESS HAD MARIANNA IMPRINTED ON IT! These are the coolest biscuits in the world. I was in Brighton on the weekend. We pubnicked. It was rad. Props to Archel for mostessing hostessing. xx Miss Marianna Longmire ********************************************************************** This email and any files transmitted in it are confidential and intended solely for the person or entity to whom they are addressed. If you have received this email in error please notify the UCLH Mail Administrator at mail.administrator@uclh.org. This footnote confirms that the email and attachments contained no viruses when they left UCLH. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+