it is a very hot afternoon and the sun is in my eyes. I may go from grammatical convention or otherwise discurs; the curs! dis thee and love too, viscious mongrel dog Last night, well, last night, sitting with a homeless person on the steps of the five star North British Hotel explaining why I'd just been thrown out of my £150 hotel room: I gave the night floor manager a thorough dressing-down some four hours later on the same steps... where's a room when one needs one? I waited too long for a pizza at 3am and crunched the receipt in my palm and handed it to the proprietor. Sitting by the usher Hall ush..shhh! (earlier discussing opera and caissons with friends from work) I re-considered and wandered back in and the guy clicked his fingers to someone behind the counter and the very long queue and it was instant delivery to my palms and the best ham and pineapple pizza I ever had (big, luscious chunks of pineapple) and then dawn, a little, and trains home in an hour, like, taxis and nightclubs being all inoperative in these wee small hours just drifting, sitting or wandering folks departing from the night that is now the night before... I go for a walk, like Nick Cave in his great new album and meet the homeless man again as we cross paths on the North Bridge and we nod to each other, like a Jekyll; *dotore*/ monsieur *hyde* as I quoted Serge Gainsbourg to a beautiful woman from southern italy earlier who deftly brushed the bit of her white garment that goes over the shoulder around and down her shoulder the other way and in a lovely way and we nod to each other at this 4.30 am on a bridge Hyde/Jekyll/Hyde doctor or surgeon over the acres of glass roof of the dead railway station. I'd obviously made a loud comment to some other people for I was followed. Turning around to see tension I gave a scrunched bundle of british paper coinage. That would've been the hotel room, I suppose: there had to be some way to even things out with the distant silhouette of the Bank of Scotland peeping into the forefront of the vast stone bulk of castle. I vegetate in front of the music video that preceeds the movie *Go* with the girl from Dawson's Creek. I'd love to love you but there are other reasons, say the bubbly bits and some vocals. is there anyone here who doesn't know? raise your hand. erase the trace and raze the land or caress it, and giggle with it or simply live in it Gordon +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the 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 +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+