Sinister: be warned: my lurking days are over

[mike windisch]

Greetings from another of the thousand children,

now that the bowlie bytes are beginning to subside back into the reality of 
workaday wonderings, methinks it might be an appropriate time to follow the 
trend of premier posts with a first go of my own.

(character sketch)
Perhaps I am a twee anomoly:
despite the fact that i've been repeatedly brought to tears in broad 
daylight on the crowded hiway while dodging a fox in the snow by the beauty 
of judy's dream and chutzpa of those who rule the school,and my 
semi-consistent barroom costume of tight red cords and purple shirts tends 
to make me a target amid the homophobic neanderthal environment of meathead 
america, i've given up shyness because its selfish, tossed shellac and the 
roots into the hifi for an occassional rotation, and have been known on 
occassion to piss off the polite with my interpretation of the time honored 
shortcut to freedom: suspended morality and upended pints of rebel pilsner.

(how B&S has coincided with this life)

Lord knows its been some time since i gave myself to sin,(and i'm just now 
getting over the karmic flak that resulted from seeking solace in sin from 
the vices of virtue)it wasn't until a recent workstyle upgrade necessitated 
a move north from native mystic to that little capital called providence 
that the cultural arbiters on high deigned to deliver tigermilk to my needy 
ears. Point being, this humble newjack can and does warble with conviction 
each time he hymns along with the chorus in state that I am in.

(Another, more sinister concidence)
Shortly before the crash of me and my last wee lass's cuddledrunk love 
affair, ***cheesy rhyme alert*** she, an old aquaintance, chose to peruse 
the small slice of prose i composed after the ocassion of our first meeting 
in years, which ended in a splendid fashion with midwinter post martini full 
moon snogging on the boardwalk. Whatever it was i wrote in that slim 
paragraph, i managed to make her cry with those words.

(enough smarminess)
more pragmatically,
has any new englander found looper or gentle waves on the shelves of any 
record shops? The smug fellows at my local shop seem to be filing my 
requests in the 'to be ignored' bin.

ciao for now,

windish






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