Sinister: I'm forever bowlie-ing bubbles

[John Warrander]

Hello my rock'n'roll friends,

I've just been shopping. And good shopping it was too. You know that 
Go-Betweens best of "Bellavista Terrace" that clever sorts like his 
Dukester were wittering on about not so long ago? Well nobody mentioned 
that it's got an absolutely fantastic extra CD with it which has amazing 
acoustic and electric sessions off American radio on it. And there's this 
lovely American woman saying some real nice things and the music is beauty 
exemplified. I kid you not. It's really very, very good. I'd get it soon if 
I was you cos I think the extra CD is limited or something. And it's really 
good.

I went to Bowlie too. I didn't speak to anybody cos I'm a bit scared of 
real people but I was there. There were some small boys on the beach with a 
dead shark and they wore gorilla and elephant latex masks and held up their 
shark and then they got a kraft slice each for their trouble. If they 
hadn't enjoyed the plastic cheese so much they'd have got a pound each too, 
but they seemed happy enough. Then that Joss bloke (who's a bit of a shark 
too kids - so you be careful) got his mates together and gave our chalet a 
lesson on the finer points of the beautiful game. It was on the beach and 
very tiring and my legs hurt for days afterwards. Everything was so great 
though that even hobbling around like a cripple for most of the following 
week seemed sort of nice. I enjoyed Bowlie. I enjoyed Bowlie a lot. I 
thought the Pontins staff were dead ace too. And has anybody mentioned that 
The Pastels played a stormer? Well they did. Oh, and that ginger bit of 
stuff on the t-shirt stall was one beaut Sheila. And can I just say "Claire 
Timmins!".

To try and recapture that Bowlie spirit I went to the seaside last weekend 
too. It was a "let's introduce our Australian friend to the underbelly of 
British culture" kind of deal. And the great underclasses that populate the 
terraces of lower division football grounds and go to Blackpool on a Bank 
Holiday weekend didn't fail to impress. Well, they left an impression or 
something. I'd like to say we can laugh about it in retrospect but there's 
no getting around the fact that football fans chanting disturbing 
homophobic shit leaves a rather unpleasant taste in the mouth that doesn't 
really clear that easily. Blackpool was great though. I bought a tartan 
bonnet with ginger hair attached then walked around the beach on my knees 
wearing it. Can you guess who I was pretending to be kids? There's a packet 
of smarties in it for you if you can you twee fools.

I'm off to bed now, subdued and happy.
Apology Accepted,
Lover...John

PS I wuv woo King of Finland
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