If you ever want to annoy your father-in-law, may I suggest that you stuff his nailfile under the settee. The result is like a mighty volcanoe spewing forth molten lava and shouting a lot. You'd think the old bugger would realise it was me hiding all his stuff, wouldn't you? But no. He huffs and he puffs and I keep a straight face. Which brings me neatly to the subject of the Conversation Parlour. It is highly unlikely that I'd be able to indulge in witty banter for more than five minutes before a rabid pensioner comes bursting into the room shouting incoherent nonsense about the phone not working. So if I don't manage to join in just yet, it's all down to creeping senile dementia, not just the slowness of the software downtrickle. Before long I'll be disappearing to go and sun myself on a topless breast on the Mediterranean and when I get back it should be all change round here, enabling me to fritter away my time in the manner of my choosing. I'm a bit envious of you all meeting up for this Manchester shindig. Paul Mitchell + 3, eh? Are Splat and Shirl going as well? No one should have any trouble spotting Paul, he is a crudely drawn stick man, as can be seen on his website. And the Duke AND Duchess of Haringay! Look out for a mad woman shouting "they sound fucking great!" at the top of her voice. Ben Folds Five's lyrical outlook is vaguely similar to Belle and Sebastian, but quite American I think. Then again, not very similar at all. I think Mister Folds has got some nice songs. And fits in nicely with my assumed persona of seventies freak. Someone asked if the Barcelona concert was as beautiful as they imagined it to be, and I don't think anyone has answered yet, so I will. I don't know. It was certainly the best evening's entertainment I've had in quite a long time, but it was probably a bit too chaotic for it to be most people's idea of beautiful. There were lots of beautiful bits, such as a very amiable security guard saying goodnight to everyone (honest!) and Chris's feet pedaling away on his pedals and Sarah having to stop halfway through a song to tie up her rollerskate laces and Stuart M's sandals and, and, and...lots of things. I suppose beautiful would be an appropriate word. I could go on and on and on, but the in-laws are onn their way to bed, so it's prime hiding things time for me. The TV remote control is the best, it produces a controlled nuclear explosion that Jacques Chirac would be proud of. Peter ----------------------------------------------------------------------- . This message was brought to you by the Sinister mailing list. . To send to the list please mail "sinister@majordomo.net". . For subscribing, unsubscribing and other list information please see . http://www.majordomo.net/sinister . For questions about how the list works mail owner-sinister@majordomo.net . We're all happy bunnies humming happy bunny tunes. Aren't we? -----------------------------------------------------------------------