Sinister: Gay Jeremy from Airport is standing by...

[Robert Foster]

I tried putting Jelly Babies and rum out on the bird table every night -
nothing.  I tried blasting the talking book version of Oh What A Lovely War
& Browning's' Porphiyrias' Lover out of my dad's car radio - nothing.  I
even tried a six foot phallus scented with mixed fruit and Channel No 5,
but, alas not a sausage.  This time I am determined to catch him.

I have set up a sophisticated surveillance system at vast personal expense.
 Well, I saved up with my pocket money and I've been washing a few cars and
mowing a couple of lawns (including the lawn of the old man at the end of
the road, apparently he used to be in charge of a children's home in
Birmingham in the 70's, nice.  He invited me in for a 'drink or whatever',
but I had to go, my tea was ready, and I needed to shower)  to subsidise my
meagre allowance but I have installed it none the less.  Honest John the
Bastard, or shitty to his friends has sold it to me.

It consists of five and a half miles of tensioned string, eight hundred
noise boxes, which to me look like old tin cans with marbles in 'em, but
Honest John the Bastard assures me there not, a penny farthing and a large
net.  The string is to be placed in a clockwise direction around my village
from the Spar shop owners' wing mirror on him Fiat van, the vicar's cock on
top of the spire and from there it is attached to the handle to the door of
the girls loos at the local school (that third one will be tricky).  The
noise boxes are to be set 2 metres apart and must have at least 3 marbles
in each.

I have arranged for Gay Jeremy from BBC 1's popular Airport to stand on 24
hour guard, hang on 

- You alright J
- ooo, I sat on me walkie talkie, roger, roger, ooo how queer, 
- Who's Roger, oh I see, sorry

Ahh, bless, he's a trooper.  A-hem.  Yeah, he's fine.  His pin prick (I
said pin prick) eyes will search the vast blue above our heads and give me
early warning.  We have arranged that when something fly's into view he is
to clap his hands to give me early warning.  So the idea being that I'll
jump into action when he gives me the clap (I said clap.)

I'll come tearing out of the camouflaged HQ on my penny f waving my net,
and if all goes to plan I could have me a poetry parrot, or that retched
dinosaur arse hole.  I heard that he's trying to snuff the parrot out so
that he can be the new poetry hard man, a sort of gay Dirty Den.

I know that the parrot often takes short cuts round my way, I think he
stops off at the Spar, once I saw him buying 20 B&H and some lighter fluid
and quoting Whitnail & I, "I demand fine wine and cake".  

God, I would love it if the poetry parrot came round here.
+----------------------------------------------------------------------+
   +---+  Brought to you by the reborn Sinister mailing list  +---+
  To send to the list mail "sinister at majordomo.net". To unsubscribe
   send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to
  "majordomo at majordomo.net".  WWW: http://www.majordomo.net/sinister
 +-+  "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "tech-heads and students" +-+
 +-+  "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+
 +-+                     "jelly-filled danishes"                   +-+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------+