Sinister: Sex! The Breakfast of Champions!
Sadly not one on which I feast nearly as often as I'd like. But anyway. November 2000. Inspiration is sadly lacking. Lloyd Cole's second solo album almost energised me today, until my walkman batteries ran out. In some way, this is symbolic. List of things to do: Buy ticket to go to London, write things for web-based and paper-based publications, get hair cut, get new watch strap/watch battery (would new watch be cheaper? No), attempt to continue some kind of social life without spending money, gain full-time employment. None of this is very interesting, so instead I'll share with you something I found. Apparently this diary was found pinned to the back of a washed up whale. It makes for fascinating reading, I think. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 24th June It has been three hours since the call came to abandon ship, and since the rats naturally were given the first lifeboats, myself and my shipmates Cabbigan, Jodper and Buvvock are, it seems, the only surviving crew. The first Emily Splinters album is currently on my walkman, however it is only making me feel more depressed. I shall switch to the radio. Despair! We cannot receive Atlantic 252. Ironies... It seems that we were attacked by a pirate ship, manned by what appeared to be the entire remaining cast of 'Dad's Army', both wearing Spiderman costumes. Terrifying, to say the least. Pertwee gave the order to fire, and the rest I remember only partly, glimpsed through smoke and onion gravy. Cook had just served dinner. Food and water are at a premium, since there isn't any of either. We cannot eat the sea-water, for it is tepid. If things continue the way they are, we may have to draw straws in order to determine who should be the first to be drunk by the others. This is not a situation I relish. Oh, there is no relish either. We had a sachet of mayonnaise, but it floated off of it's own accord. No islands have been spotted thus far, though each of us has our eyes peeled, if only because it is the only chance we shall ever get to shout 'Land Ahoy!'. If we do find an island, I pray they have a decent shoe-horn. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- That's all for that day. I may print the next bit if I can be bothered to type it out, we'll see. And all of her reports are fine it's just we feel she gets distracted easily by other people crucial yeah she'll have to settle down. Goodbye. Alasdair xx PS Alasdair Neil Cook is quite partial to sweetcorn. _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. Share information about yourself, create your own public profile at http://profiles.msn.com. +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the undead 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 +-+ "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 +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "peculiarly deranged fanbase" "frighteningly named +-+ +-+ Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+
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Alasdair Cook