Sinister: Kissing her's like licking a battery...

[Stuart Gardiner]

Well I had several things I wanted to say in response to various posts,
but we lost email / web access for a couple of days, and when it came back
all the mails arrived in the wrong order so I'm now hopelessly confused as
to what people have been talking about. For some reason, the university's
internet link with the outside world broke, and Cable and Wireless took
tw days to fix it. Our favourite updates we received on their progress
were "An engineer has gone down to London to check the switch", and the
classic "C&W engineers went to investigate the fault, but couldn't get
into their building".


On Mon, 24 May 1999, molly wrote:

> I tried the archive but it was sick. In CHICKFACTOR they're in New York,
> righty? 
> the line "my little girl I can't find/she's five hours behind"
> Shouldn't it be five hours AHEAD? (that was my "content"   I've been saving
> it up)

Well yes, it should, but it would make it a bit harder to come up with a
decent rhyme for it... How about "my little girl's asleep in bed / she's
five hours ahead"? Or perhaps "my little dog's dead / they're five hours
ahead"? Not quite got the same ring to it somehow...


Like Tim, I also had a very B&S weekend. An old friend, Simon Laborg (or
Si for short) was visiting with his 18-year-old sister Judy. We went to
see a parade through town, and were all very impressed by the man dressed
in a Scooby Doo costume riding a bicycle on its back wheel only (yep,
you've guessed it, a Dog On Wheelie). After dinner (he didn't like it, so
I ended up eating most of Laborg's Pasty), we went to see a fireworks
display, which was a bit disappointing - a short flash of light, then
another about twice as long, then a third even longer flash. Judy was
feeling tired, so she ended up sitting on my lap, much to the worry of
Simon - he threatened me with all sorts of physical violence if my hands
were touching Si's sister in the wrong places. Honestly, he thinks I'm the
kind of lad who still never does anything right. Then we went home and had
a glass of milk from a large Bengali yellow-and-black striped big cat.

And apparently Judy had a very peaceful night's sleep. 

(And in case any animal rights activists are out there reading this, I'd
like to reassure you that we did not keep the afore-mentioned tiger in our
kitchen so we could get the milk from it fresh. That would be cruel and
dangerous. We left it outside in the garden.)



It seems to have worked for Ailsa, so can I just ask you all to vote for
me as your list crush? When I looked at the latest standings earlier, I
was under Isobel Campbell. Actually, come to think of it, I can think of
worse places to be...

Oh, and could the one person who has voted 12 times for Trousers please
stop now?

Big Stu


PS: Did you know that 75% of the world's rhubarb is grown in North
Yorkshire?

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