Sinister: You made me feel I was born again, it's a shame I never grew up again

Ailsa Ross ar981611 at xxx.uk
Mon Dec 13 19:16:31 GMT 1999


Hello strangers

You thought I'd gone didn't you?  Actually judging by the amount of
"hello, I'm new" posts since I last posted (late 1967, I reckon) none of
you even know who the hell I am.  Though thanks to Carsick Steve and
Rachel Tucker for bigging me up far more than I deserve, which just
means this post will be considered shite from more angles than usual.

I haven't posted for ages because I couldn't be arsed.  But as appears
to be tradition, I suppose I should say it's my birthday on Saturday and
ask if any of you want to come out for a pint.  But I wouldn't abuse the
list like that, though I can because I have actual real B&S content some
way down the page (well, I mention one of B&S in a bizarre
animal-related incident).  Read on if you must...

Due to the general shittiness of life (having no money, owing money I
don't have to people, having to go to Spain for a week with my other and
better half) I can't go to Tigermilking.  Which is a bit of a shame,
since later perusal of the photos from my last London sojourn seem to
indicate that a good time was had by all, and I may well have had quite
a jolly laugh myself.  Damned if I can remember though.  

I used to be a grunger once.  And a fraggler.  And a goth (for about a
fortnight).  And a Brit-popper.  And a new romantic.  And I wanted to be
Madonna. Doesn't *everyone* go through these stages?  I think it's
perfectly acceptable to want to dress in a way that marks out the kind
of music you listen to if you want to identify yourself to "similar"
types.  I tried, but then I realised I was trying too hard, and everyone
disliked me because I seemed a bit desperate to make friends (not true,
well, not consciously at any rate - I did actually like the music, even
Neds Atomic Dustbin).  So now I dress how I like and listen to what I
like.  But I have nothing at all against people who follow any sort of
trend (for want of a better word) as long as they genuinely get
something out of it.  It's wanky poseurs I can't stand.  None of my
friends who like Belle and Sebastian look like they like Belle and
Sebastian, which is rather nice.  And they all drink like motherfuckers,
especially that Steve Hewitt.  And Heather McDonald.  And Sarah
Wheeler.  And Ally, and Calumn..er, this could take a while.  Twee?  I
think not.  

Last week at Celtic Park I saw Chris Geddes getting quite literally
horse-whipped.  By a horse.  Well, by its tail.  It made *me* laugh.

Oh God, the stress has been too much for me.  I'm off to lie down.  I'll
maybe surface again sometime in the Millennium (as the Willennium will
see me up in Inverness drinking cheap vodka and trying to avoid the free
Runrig concert in the town centre).  Until then, happy Christmas to
those who celebrate it and happy whatever else to those who don't. 
Happy New Year to everyone, and don't worry if it's shit as it's not
actually the end of the millennium until Dec 31st 2000.

Yours pedantically

Ailsa xxx

PS For those of you interested, I got a letter from Big Gay Stu the
other month from Chile where he is wandering about glaciers, talking
about smut and fantasising about Mars Bars whilst wearing nasty pants
and attempting to seduce all the ladies he can find.  He says hello.
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