"The transatlantic crossing was so rough that the only thing I could keep on my stomach was the first mate." -- Dorothy Parker Even when a man with arms of sex are a feature of my travels, that Poet Parker always outdoes me. The Bitch. Of course, it's no thanks to the list that I actually did get to see Belle and Sebastian in New York on Sunday. The one answer I had to my plea about what to do if my ticket hadn't come in the mail was a conversation which went like this: Dave: You could crash the gate! Distract them and sneak in! Me: I'm not lifting up my shirt. Dave: You could just yell, 'Look, a Llew comet!' Me: Well, I'm definitely not lifting my shirt while saying that. It looked hopeless. I looked desperate. (Ok, so some things never change.) However, thanks to Dashing Damo's superfly scramblings, Brian DeWinters Manderleyan organizational skills and Laurel's expressing the pony I was able to finally get the ticket in my grubby happy little hands in time for the show. I know I'm delayed in writing back but I am a Southerner - we're supposed to be slow. So without further adieu: A Night At The Hammerstein Ballroom By Laura Llew With Help From Senor Snicket Even after liking Belle and Sebastian for five years, there are many things I do not understand. I do not understand how a priest can have a photographic memory for all that he had HEARD rather than seen. I do not understand why the line in Photo Jenny can't really be "Get that bitch a bench" instead of "fish and chips." I do not understand why the band refuses to play my bedroom even if it is too cramped for all of them leaving me with just Stu, Stevie, and Mick Cooke while the others occupy themselves with lint and pieces of string in the hall. It has good lighting and attractive decor. What is their problem? I do not understand why some people attend a show when it appears they would prefer to be chatting with a friend, preparing a proposal for the bassist of the Aislers Set or persistently digging their elbow into my ribs; and I do not understand why I should be expected to applaud for a bunch of hideous backup singers & musicians just because they can shake a tambourine while wearing fantastically gaudy clothes better than I can. And now there is something else I do not understand. I do not understand how I could travel some distance and spend a fair amount of money to see Belle and Sebastian only to realize three minutes into the show that with the exception of Stevie Jackson being replaced by Tiny Tim, my mom calling me to tell me she's decided for a career change and is becoming a porn star, or discovering I was closely related to any of the backup singer/muscians - I didn't care *what* happened for the next couple of hours I would love it all regardless. When Stuart asked the crowd if she should play Staying Alive because it had such a huge potential to be really bad I found myself wanting more than anything to hear the song. It's either a sign of devotion or a sign of a psychotropic drug prescription just waiting to be written. Either way, I was happy. I was up at the very front with no one in front of me so that I could feel every drop of sweat which Struan shook loose. Of course, that would have been if I weren't over too far from the center and in front of Isobel instead to feel every drop of glitter shake off from the back of her long top which said "United Plaster Casters of America" on the back. Her bum was looking very proportional to the rest of her body too bad her personality didn't. I kind of liked her aloofness and the way she would occasionally lean over and whisper something to someone else as she giggled. I also liked the way she would randomly get up and wander off the stage as if in a trance. I wish she had done it more often. Thanks to the flashers during the song The Model we now have the answer to Stuart's question in Rollercoaster Ride of, "If you were to remove your clothes do you think the singer would notice?" Forever yours (or until I get bored and cast you aside like the other llewsers), Laura 'meeting all of your Laura Llew needs since 1977' PS - I just took this quiz at http://www.herheartache.org/test/kirsten.html to discover that I'm Lux Lisbon. No wonder I've been so tired - having sex with all these boys on my roof and I hadn't even noticed. Oy! PPS - I don't know what "licky love" is but I don't think I want to experience it. _________________________________________________________________ Chat with friends online, try MSN Messenger: http://messenger.msn.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+