it was most certainly some tight and perverted business indeed. But thanks be to the wisened arbiter of normal reality, it was just a dream. The docile, twee and ever-so-stylee easy listening belle and sebastian somehow morphed into a heavy metal rock video on the street in front of this here office building. Stuart Murdoch, sporting a mullet cut (see mulletsgalore.com) and brandishing a flying-V guitair, was strutting about like some coked-out cross between mick jagger and billy squire in a revealing pair of tight-assed nuthugger jeans tucked into oversized pony hightops (circa 1984). A sleeveless Ted Nuget shirt revealed them thair arms of sex held high in a callous clap-along to an amphetimine-fueled version of TBWTAS. I had to rub my eyes, blink numerous times and say "what the shit" out loud repeatedly in an effort to clear this abberant hallucination from my sight. But to my chagrin, this sordid scene continued to unfold as that demure chanteuse Isobel emerged from behind the cello done up in patent leather fetish gear with a menacing scowl pasted across her visiage. She strutted sluttily over to Herr David, who was hastily scribbling something into a note book. With a mighty motion of her stiletto-heeled thigh-high Kiss boots, the Isobatrix kicked the scribe square in the bass and onto his ass. Laughing, she snarled wickedly into the microphone something to the effect that she had had enough of his panty-waisting poofta antics and had better scamper off to his tree fort if he didn't want her to unleash the full force of her fresh can of whoop-ass on him. With a studly chortle, Stu. M quipped into the microphone that "this fuggin shit always happens when the bitch's bender ends because the crank ran out" ..... At this point I awoke with a gasp, my sheets sweat soaked and heart racing. I was gripped in a hybrid emotional state that combined fear, laughter and the odd sensation that things were not right in the world at all... In fact, just recounting this horrific scene makes me feel dirty and sinful. In other realms, I caught a very intimate Hefner gig at Brown a couple weeks ago. It was my first encounter with their music and despite a possessed pa was very rewarding experience. I cannot stop listening to the recording I made on the down low with my trusty radio shack recorder. Also, the Make Up will be gigging with a hastily-named supergroup (featuring members of sonic youth, the bad seeds, and some other indy luminaries) this Friday night at the Secret Theater in New London CT. This is a good co-op space with a byob speakeasy booze policy. contact me or check www.hozomeen.org for more details. ciao, windisch ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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" +-+ +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+