Sinister: General Ramble

[PM - AU]

If you ever want to annoy your father-in-law, may I suggest
that you stuff his nailfile under the settee. The result is
like a mighty volcanoe spewing forth molten lava and
shouting a lot. You'd think the old bugger would realise it
was me hiding all his stuff, wouldn't you? But no. He huffs
and he puffs and I keep a straight face.

Which brings me neatly to the subject of the Conversation
Parlour. It is highly unlikely that I'd be able to indulge
in witty banter for more than five minutes before a rabid
pensioner comes bursting into the room shouting incoherent
nonsense about the phone not working. So if I don't manage
to join in just yet, it's all down to creeping senile
dementia, not just the slowness of the software downtrickle.
Before long I'll be disappearing to go and sun myself on a
topless breast on the Mediterranean and when I get back it
should be all change round here, enabling me to fritter away
my time in the manner of my choosing.

I'm a bit envious of you all meeting up for this Manchester
shindig. Honey + 3, eh? Are Splat and Shirl going as
well? No one should have any trouble spotting Paul, he is a
crudely drawn stick man, as can be seen on his website. And
the Duke AND Duchess of Haringay! Look out for a mad woman
shouting "they sound fucking great!" at the top of her
voice.

Ben Folds Five's lyrical outlook is vaguely similar to Belle
and Sebastian, but quite American I think. Then again, not
very similar at all. I think Mister Folds has got some nice
songs. And fits in nicely with my assumed persona of
seventies freak.

Someone asked if the Barcelona concert was as beautiful as
they imagined it to be, and I don't think anyone has
answered yet, so I will. I don't know. It was certainly the
best evening's entertainment I've had in quite a long time,
but it was probably a bit too chaotic for it to be most
people's idea of beautiful. There were lots of beautiful
bits, such as a very amiable security guard saying goodnight
to everyone (honest!) and Chris's feet pedaling away on his
pedals and Sarah having to stop halfway through a song to
tie up her rollerskate laces and Stuart M's sandals and,
and, and...lots of things. I suppose beautiful would be an
appropriate word. I could go on and on and on, but the
in-laws are onn their way to bed, so it's prime hiding
things time for me. The TV remote control is the best, it
produces a controlled nuclear explosion that Jacques Chirac
would be proud of.

Peter


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