hello my friends i am sorry that i must write to you in a downcast moment, rather than as my usual hipswingy-armwavey-maracashakey-type-of-girl self. however, i am finding it hard to be cheerful. you see, i am locked in a cellar and you appear to be the only people that care. today, the boy that lives here left me a bowl of tigernuts and some orange squash and informed me that this was a delicious nutritious healthy meal suitable for a rock star of my calibre. then he drifted away like a smile from a lover and left me to sit pondering the fickleness of fate: just last week i was a famous international groovesome babe. today i sit and regard the silverfish as they flip flop across the floor of my new home. the worst thing of all is that he hasn't installed any maracas down here. its mental cruelty i tell you. being deprived of my liberty is one thing, but i risk losing my place at the cutting edge of hand-held-percussion if i stay here much longer. fortunately, i have learnt the basics of electronic wizardry from bob stanley and was able to link up to the world wid web by cooing gently to a pigeon until it brought me a length of copper wire. i'm sure you know the procedure from that point. jessica, christa, you have been fooled, i am afraid to say. that person you saw was an impostor. i am saddened that i am so replacable. but perhaps bob and pete are not aware of the situation. i can peep under the crack of the cellar door and i saw the boy that lives here leaving the house in a blonde wig and a slinky catsuit earlier today. he was muttering something about a boy with a looper t-shirt and a pot of k.y. those of you who love me, i beg you to help. it is simple. all you need to do is send this ian fellow a plane ticket to north america (preferably somewhere hot) and a ticket to see saint etienne in concert. i can then get my pigeon to intercept the delivery and will be able to sing for you all once again. you know the worst of all this? you know why he kidnapped me? he only did it so that he could wear my terry underwear and feel the city air run past his body tara, if your bleached blonde army are on their way, i await my release eagerly and shall reward their efforts with a special sarah smile, bestowed only upon the most worthy. by the way, once i tried to put an elvis record up my nose, but it wouldn't fit. love sarah c. +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+