No subject

[Jeremy.Simon at xxx.com]

Dear Sinisteristininesies,

I hope everyone is well on this Friday afternoon. Clear skies over London
today (when I am at work). Rain forecast for the weekend (when I am not).
Perfect. What's the weather like in Scotland? And NY? And Japan(?) Why not
let us all know. It is my dream to abuse the Sinister list as a global
weather report link up.

Only kidding, Honey. (Honey - are you there?) My inbox was woefully scant
this morning - perhaps as a result of Honey's "harsh-but-fair" post
yesterday. It was one of those situations when I felt guilty, even though
not specifically charged. However, I will scatter this post liberally with
B&S reference, and include absolutely no mention of any personal friends
(chance would be a fine thing) whatsoever. Spoon.

Anyhoo, I have two very interesting and fascinating things to say. Firstly,
on 12th July, pop pickers, Trash in London's Soho are having a B&S night.
Sorry if this is old news, but I only just found out.  It is to celebrate
the glorious return of our beloved Tigermilk to the shelves of obscure
record shops across the galaxy. So everyone come and dance like bastards at
this most excellent of nights : ) That said, last Tuesday was Charlatans
night, which meant that they played One to Another and Zombie at about
2.30am, and that was it. Not that it was a bad thing, for it left plenty of
time for "Sweet Child of Mine" and Britnay F****ng Spears. Shudder. Good
time, though, except for being utterly rejected by the girl I've fallen for
(top tip: always fall for a girl AFTER getting intimate - saves long hours
and lost days : ))

Which leads me neatly onto my second point.


Geyv Kathoke wrote about how to deal with misery, following a killer
anecdote about being totally humiliated by his lurve interest. Bad luck,
Geyv - makes me feel better though. Here is my useful nugget of advice: on
those long dark evenings of the soul, DO NOT under any circumstance listen
to the following songs:



Broken Heart - Spiritualized

No Distance Left To Run - Blur

Miss Misery - Elliott Smith

Boy Done Wrong Again

etc. (I thought of lots more last night, but now I am at work the creative
half of my brain has shut down, and I am running on the 3%* required to
perform my duties competently).

Just don't do it. Self immolation, a mighty masturbation habit, Brett
Easton Ellis, all these are preferable to these bloody dirges. Which got me
to thinking - why do people write songs like these? Under what circumstance
are they designed to be listened to? When I'm feeling down, I really can't
hack hearing how dreadful life can be; when I'm feeling gay, I like to hear
happy songs. (Shallow, moi?).



What the hell am I talking about?



love to you all



J. D. Salinger



*which coincidentally is the same 3% I use for making sweet love, and as a
result am in an almost constant state of arousal at work.



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"you take a really sleepy man, Esmé, and he always stands a chance of again
becoming a man with all his fac - with all his f-a-c-u-l-t-i-e-s intact"


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