Dear Sinisteristininesies, I hope everyone is well on this Friday afternoon. Clear skies over London today (when I am at work). Rain forecast for the weekend (when I am not). Perfect. What's the weather like in Scotland? And NY? And Japan(?) Why not let us all know. It is my dream to abuse the Sinister list as a global weather report link up. Only kidding, Honey. (Honey - are you there?) My inbox was woefully scant this morning - perhaps as a result of Honey's "harsh-but-fair" post yesterday. It was one of those situations when I felt guilty, even though not specifically charged. However, I will scatter this post liberally with B&S reference, and include absolutely no mention of any personal friends (chance would be a fine thing) whatsoever. Spoon. Anyhoo, I have two very interesting and fascinating things to say. Firstly, on 12th July, pop pickers, Trash in London's Soho are having a B&S night. Sorry if this is old news, but I only just found out. It is to celebrate the glorious return of our beloved Tigermilk to the shelves of obscure record shops across the galaxy. So everyone come and dance like bastards at this most excellent of nights : ) That said, last Tuesday was Charlatans night, which meant that they played One to Another and Zombie at about 2.30am, and that was it. Not that it was a bad thing, for it left plenty of time for "Sweet Child of Mine" and Britnay F****ng Spears. Shudder. Good time, though, except for being utterly rejected by the girl I've fallen for (top tip: always fall for a girl AFTER getting intimate - saves long hours and lost days : )) Which leads me neatly onto my second point. Geyv Kathoke wrote about how to deal with misery, following a killer anecdote about being totally humiliated by his lurve interest. Bad luck, Geyv - makes me feel better though. Here is my useful nugget of advice: on those long dark evenings of the soul, DO NOT under any circumstance listen to the following songs: Broken Heart - Spiritualized No Distance Left To Run - Blur Miss Misery - Elliott Smith Boy Done Wrong Again etc. (I thought of lots more last night, but now I am at work the creative half of my brain has shut down, and I am running on the 3%* required to perform my duties competently). Just don't do it. Self immolation, a mighty masturbation habit, Brett Easton Ellis, all these are preferable to these bloody dirges. Which got me to thinking - why do people write songs like these? Under what circumstance are they designed to be listened to? When I'm feeling down, I really can't hack hearing how dreadful life can be; when I'm feeling gay, I like to hear happy songs. (Shallow, moi?). What the hell am I talking about? love to you all J. D. Salinger *which coincidentally is the same 3% I use for making sweet love, and as a result am in an almost constant state of arousal at work. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------------------- "you take a really sleepy man, Esmé, and he always stands a chance of again becoming a man with all his fac - with all his f-a-c-u-l-t-i-e-s intact" +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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" +-+ +-+ "jelly-filled danishes" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+