Sinister: All Robbie Fowler's best goal celebrations were nicked from me...

[Stuart Gardiner]

Hello to everyone who was at the picnic on Saturday (37). Not quite as many 
as the one at the start of May, but not far off (76). This name-dropping 
lark's easy, isn't it?

Well if nothing else, it was the first time a Sinister picnic has taken 
place in a thunderstorm. But thanks to some friendly trees (well, none of 
them told us to go away at any rate), nobody minded (not strictly true, but 
never mind). It's always nice meeting Sinister folk I haven't met before, 
like Ailsa and Arantxa etc. (too many for me to list / remember). You see, 
we know how to picnic properly in London; and any decent picnic must 
continue until at least 2am the next day. Or in this case, 11am the next day 
at Charing Cross, but that's another story... The time seemed to fly past, 
or at least that's my excuse for remembering next-to-nothing about the time 
spent in the club at the end of the evening. In no time at all, it was time 
for bed; and the fact that bed for the night was half-way up Nelson's Column 
is neither here nor there...

Oh, and I'd like to revel in the glory of being our teams' top scorer in the 
football (I meant goals, you dirty-minded folk at the back of the class). 
Even if I was playing utterly crap all game & only got them by goal-hanging. 
And we lost. But never mind, eh?


Well anyway, like I've said before, I'm leaving the country soon (by the 
way, if anyone who lives in or near Rio De Janeiro knows of anywhere myself 
& maybe one other person can stay for a couple of nights at New Year, I'd be 
very grateful if you'd get in touch before the end of the week...). And 
since this will be my last Monday on the list, I couldn't let it pass 
without reviving the poetry tradition, since the parrot never made it in my 
direction. Sadly the poetry parrot seems to have disappeared without trace, 
but I am pleased to announce that it can now be succeeded. So, in memory of 
the London picnic, I present The Poetry Pelican...


This poem was one I found on a train, the winner of a competition run by the 
train company. So I doubt if anyone will have heard of the writer. But it 
tickled me, so here goes:

"The Journey" by Georgina Doji

I watch the little paper boats,
On their journey across the pond,
And dream I am a sailor,
Sailing ships across the sea.

I watch two model aeroplanes,
On their journey across the sky,
And dream I am a pilot,
Flying high over the whitest clouds.

I watch some rabbits running,
On their journey back to home,
And dream I am an athlete,
Racing hard to finish first.

I watch a train pull out,
On its journey along the track,
And dream I am the person,
Who didn't miss it.


The Poetry Pelican is now freed to waddle off elsewhere; and it was last 
seen heading in the direction of Erica (who really does look that blurred in 
real life. Or at least, she did by the end of Saturday...)


Big Stu


PS People I owe emails / tapes to, I will get round to it soon, promise...


______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com
+----------------------------------------------------------------------+
   +---+  Brought to you by the reborn Sinister mailing list  +---+
  To send to the list mail "sinister at majordomo.net". To unsubscribe
   send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to
  "majordomo at majordomo.net".  WWW: http://www.majordomo.net/sinister
 +-+  "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "tech-heads and students" +-+
 +-+  "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+
 +-+                     "jelly-filled danishes"                   +-+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------+