Sinister: Dougal's Scottish Holiday

[Tag]

Hello,

That Peter Miller bloke wrote:

>Yesterday I went to the pictures and I saw a film and it was really good.

Are you after my job?

>I heard it on the grapevine that McTaggart has been pounding the Glasgow
>beat, and the mean old piddly pooh hasn't shown us his ink polaroids yet,
>and neither has Keith.

Here's a couple ...

It's Saturday night in Edinburgh.  We see three fresh faced young
bucks striding masterfully along Lothian Street.  On our left, Keith
Watson, his rippling muscles teasingly hidden under his trademark polo
neck, is brushing aside a bevy of beauties with the merest shrug.  In
the centre is Tag, his mind inexplicably wandering to thoughts of
ultraviolet pornography.  On our right, Chris Leonard is leading the
other two in a David Bowie Medley with his resonant baritone, causing
passing drunken rugby fans to weep openly.

It's earlier that same evening, the scene is a table in an Indian
restaurant.  Chris Leonard, the master raconteur, is holding court to
a rapt audience, Tag and Keith have their backs to the camera, so we
can only assume that their faces have the same saucer-eyed expression
as the young lady to Chris's right.  It's almost as if Chris has
uttered the word 'gism' at an inoppurtune moment.  Further down the
table El Presidente Honey is smoking a fine cigar, whilst
ruminating of the nature of religion with the ravishing Linda (the
first lady) and a strangely familiar man.  Paul looks dead classy, la.

>Belle and Sebastian content: What do we have to do to join in the bunfight
>tomorrow? Just turn up in the sinister room, or is it more complicated? I've
>got a brand new nickname for the occasion.

You should have a brand new nickname for every message.  Get over it.

>Northy, nice to see you back again.

I too was fooled briefly, but there were a few giveaway clues.  Northy
would never write only one letter at a time, his useful snake like
symbol was not used, and there was a certain 'humour' to that mail.
Like many great thinkers of our time, Northy was a deeply serious
young man, who saw little to be flippant about in this evil modern
world where communists, drug users and the homeless are allowed to
roam the streets without being shot, and wealthy princesses like Lady
Di, the Princess of Hearts, are cut off in their prime, only to be
cruelly ridiculed.  He really felt that injustice deep in his soul.  I
hope the sick hoaxer is as guilt ridden as he or she should be.  Oh
God, how I miss him.

Will that do?

Love,
Tag xx
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