Sinister: Excuse Me, Have You Seen My Keys?

[PJMiller]

It's sad that Jeff Buckley died, I thought he had the potential to
become the new Lenny Kravitz. I hope Johnny Marr does join Oasis. One
thing I've always thought the pop scene could learn from heavy metal
is that kind of transfer market they have, enabling people to have
opinions about "Dio-era Sabbath" or "Priest now Halford's gone" or
"The Purps' Little and Large years".

Unfortunately, I shall be unable to attend TIGERMILKING upstairs at
the Garage tonight, but I'm hoping to be able to make it in spirit. DJ
Fat Slug, if you're out there - you know what I want to hear, play it!
You played it for her, now you can play it for me. If she can stand
it, I can stand it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and
for the rest of your life. I refer, of course, to the legendary
"Sister Disco" by the 70s WHO. By the way, that was my little tribute
to Alfred Hitchcock. Don't talk about baseball, there's a bomb under
the table! That was another. Tonight there are two Hitchcock films and
a rockumentary on the telly. I'm going to watch the lot of it, even
though I think he's crap compared to Chuck Norris.

Fluffy, the people you rail against are not advertising executives,
they are the ironically named advertising creatives. Jimmy from The
70s WHO film "Quadrophenia" works in an advertising agency. He nicks
some photos of birds and has a wank about them. He's one of us really,
isn't he?

By the way Sarah, the word "coasters". I don't think you learned that
in the greater Preston area, did you? Too much Camden Town, young
lady. Goes to your head. Next thing you know, you'll be wearing boob
tubes and candy-striped trousers. Apparently there's a brain drain in
Canada. Is that why Genevieve's in Detroit and Elisabeth's in
Chorlton?

I saw some people having it off the other day. I'd been to see the
"eclipse" at the top of a big fuck-off hill, and when I got home,
still thrilled by the magnificent spectacle of the light going a
little tiny bit funny if you convinced yourself, I found out I'd lost
my keys, so I had to go back for them that afternoon, tracing my steps
like a plank. In order to trace my steps like a plank I had to pass a
man with crutches standing by his car, and a few steps further on
there was a "couple", completely starkers in the long grass. They
weren't actually having it off, I think they'd finished, but they were
sort of entwined, in a kind of post-coital serpent's embrace. I should
have asked them to get up a moment and rummaged around for my keys in
their bumholes, but I was a bit freaked out, to be honest. So I just
walked on nonchalently, and came back later for another peek. This is
all well and good, but what I want to know is, if you're going to have
it off in the countryside, why choose a popular spot with loads of
children running around? And what was the bloke with the crutches
doing? It was a nude romp, like Cliff Richard and Sue Barker used to
have. I don't know what to make of it all. The mucky pups!

The radio coverage of the "eclipse" was advertised over Marvin and
Tammi's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough". I'm afraid I just crumpled in
a heap, sobbing like a pranny. When I listened to it "properly" the
next day, it wasn't as good. But that's the magic of pop, isn't it?

I saw Rob Zombie on the telly today. He's got a robot in his group.
Good for him. I also saw Faith No More, they eat their own poo, the
dirty devils!

Sister Disco

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