Sinister: Did I say custard ? I meant porridge.

[Michael Jones]

Hey-ho HepCats,

The post-Beiwol comedown is biting hard here, cushioned only by the
warm near-coital glow of Camber memories (Mark C's clinical finishing,
"Wrong Girl", the double-decker rolling into bleak Kent/Sussex border
country - "y'know, maybe Matt Shinkansen was right...", Tha Sinista
Drinking Krew's Corner Of Filth at the Queen Vic, so much else...) and
the cottonwool-headed detachment afforded by a receding bout of
influenza.  Wobeli may have left me a partially-deaf mucus factory
with Beamish Red in his veins, but Potters Bar this morning looked
like Geneva... (unless Geneva actually looks like Stalybridge - I've
really no idea).

I do hope Stevie T's huge swelling has eased - Pam has a polaroid for
posterity.  I shan't mention the body part concerned, it would spoil
the seaside sauciness of the image.  I'll just leave it dangling. 
Dangling.  Swelling.  Huge.  I fear I've been officially dumbed-down.

Boil-washing hankerchiefs from now until September...

Mike x.
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