Sinister: Bally bee. Mammy's knee. Wee bawbee. That's me. Anyone got any Coulthard's candy, I need a fix...
Alasdair Cook MS1996
acook at xxx.uk
Fri Sep 3 14:32:54 BST 1999
To celebrate Sinister's birthday I saw a man *half-naked*, *kissed* a
man
and danced *body to body* with a man. And do you know what, their
girlfriends didn't even mind, which is always a bonus. A whip also
featured prominently in the night's proceedings, but you don't want to
know about
that, do you?
On Tuesday evening I managed to insult Stevie "Chocolate Boy" Jackson
whilst watching Sleater-Kinney and hiding from a mad waiter after we
forgot to pay our bill in his cafe. Oops!
I think Stevie would be a combination of Rolos and Polos, called a
roly-poly. Did I say that?
Anyway, Rachael said:
> Michael Stipe sucks.
Opening. Closing. No sound.
Places named after people. I have my own islands. Do I win?
Oh, and then the lovely Youn said:
> I wish I could see the video that Alasdair's grandfather is in cos I met
> someone who, by a marvelous stroke of coincidence, could be him. It was
> on the train from London to Glasgow. He was on the train before London
> though in one of those seats with a table and a facing seat. I was late
> and didn't have a reservation, so I asked if I could sit there. He
> consented; then I discovered there was a dog under the table. The dog was
> very docile, but I couldn't look up into his coke bottle glasses (my
> brother uses that expression for very thick glasses, in case it isn't
> apparent what is meant) so I changed at the next stop. But then a girl of
> about six or seven came, and he proceeded to have the most interesting
> conversation with her. It surprised me cos he had been reading a German
> book and looked very serious and dignified with a face so gaunt and
> angular that he appeared to be munching on his sandwich with his front
> teeth. He offered to sing for her! "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and
> another one I can't remember, which they sang together.
I don't think this was my grandpa, but I could be wrong. No, I couldn't
actually. I met my grandpa the other day, while walking along the
street. He pulled me into this little arty-crafty-very-expensive type
shop to have a look around, then said in a rather loud voice, with lots
of people around "So, do you not have a girlfriend then?". He's really
very nice though. He's a mad-keen photographer even though he's
completely blind in one eye and going that way in the other. I was
thinking of inviting him to come and see Sleater-Kinney so that other
Sinistereens could bow at his feet, but I think he wanted to go home and
have a cup of tea.
I had a Sinister dream last night. We were having a big picnic meet-up
type thing, except it was behind the bar in the golf club where I work.
Jim and Damon were there, except Jim had cut his hair so it was quite
short, and Damon had bleached his for some reason. Then I start talking
to this guy who I work with, who hates all my music but is there since
it's where he works, and I suddenly realise that everyone has gone to
the pub without me, and then he says he has to go as well so I'm left
all alone. Erica, get your book out.
Mr Cas(red)a(house)rotto(painter) said:
> this dodgy looking junkie (and
> I SWEAR I'm not being rude if I say he looked a bit like Martin Robinson,
> except not as handsome)
My bus driver today looked like Martin Robinson as well, except
obviously not as handsome. What's happened here is that Martin has
probably cloned himself a few times, being the mad scientist that he is,
except he's not quite perfected the technique so all the clones are
imperfect and have to steal or get rubbish jobs as bus drivers to get
by. Remember, Martin Robinson clones are people too, and they can't help
the way they are.
Mark also said something about me being sexy, which is rubbish as anyone
who has met me will testify.
And last but by no means least, BabyChris said:
> AILSA CRAIG (ROSS) IS COING (sic) TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD
Has anyone got a spare ticket to Mars? I'm JOKING!
You are all my favourite vegetables. Cheerio.
Alasdair xx
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