Sinister: the songs that set him free

[ian]

hello my funky monkeys...
well, i was going to indulge in a bit of chris-bashing, but as it seems that
the chap is already staggering around, bleeding from every orifice (better
get them nappies out babe) i'll refrain.  all i have to say on the subject
of anal sex is don't knock it till you've tried it.  and, by the way, if
anybody wants to try it......
and if you aint tried it, and you're still talking about it...well, it seems
that you're pontificating on a subject you know absolutely nothing about.

anyway, onto twinklier things.

depression.

just kidding.

no...the real point (and, (to quote ellen degenerate, rampant unnatural
nappy-wearing lesbian) i do have one) of my mail was to pass on the
following news:

it seems that stu d's departure was predicted some time ago, and
immortalised in song by the band; who promptly beamed said recording to mars
(to where it is rumoured our sandal-wearing friend has retreated...trying to
escape from the endless tabloid indifference).
today, at the winter observatory in the canary islands, the following music
was translated by one of those big telescopey things...

what follows has been passed on by international spies.  keep it under your
hat.  if you have one.  otherwise, go buy a pack of pampers.  not only can
they be crafted into a variety of stylish headgear but they serve a whole
kaleidoscope of purposes.  and you never know when you're going to dribble..

this is what the spies heard
-----------------------------------------

silence.  a rustle.  a moaning.  a sound of someone sticking a bead up their
nose.

nothing for a moment, then a lone guitar is heard languidly playing.  the
song is an old martian melody that sounds uncannily like "hit me baby one
more time" by our britney.

abruptly this cuts out and the music begins.  experienced music-lovers will
recognise the tune as vaguely reminiscent of "leader of the pack" by the
shangri-las.

take one-
sounds of isobel shuffling up to the microphone in a low-cut, short leather
dress, her beautiful blonde bob bespiked with motorcycle grease.

more sounds.  as of struan and mick cooke shuffling either side, also both
wearing low-cut short leather dresses.

sound of someone undoing a nappy (no, sorry, i don't know where that came
from...)

fingers begin to click, toes to tap.  a groovy mood is set..

struan:  hey isobel, is that stuey d's ring you're wearing?

isobel: nah, i got it out of a cracker......

sound of collective groans, drinking of coffee, and much wringing of terry
towelling..

take two-

sounds of isobel, struan and mick shuffling round in velvet
catsuits...fingers, toes...you know the drill by now..

struan: hey, bella...is that stuey d's ring your wearing?

isobel: oh...erm...yea, do you like it?

music stops once more..  muttering of "no, you stupid twee bitch,
uh-huh...its uh-huh..can you say uh-huh?"
sound of a ginger scottish man being hit over the head with a hello kitty
pencil case

isobel: "uh-huh"

struan:  so, how'd you meet him?

and our belle bursts into song...


"i met him in a spud-u-li-ike
he looked pretty cheesy
get the picture?
(yes, we see)

that's when i fell for
the looper at the back...

i heard he was classy
it seemed true to me
he made shirley bassey
look like debbie mcgee

(made shirley bassey look like de-eb-bie mcgee)

they said that he wus twee-ee
but that really quite appealed to me-ee

that's when i fell for
the looper and his slacks..

when i saw the cut of his corduroy
(roy...roy)
i knew that there could be no other boy
(knew that there could be no o-o-o-ther boy)
oh how it twitched my pelvis
when he sang "a century of elvis"

that's when i fell for
the looper's great lunch-pack

i knew that we could fly to the moon
although he couldn't quite hold a tune
(tune...tune)
he kind of stood around
while we made that great big b&s sound

but i still loved him
he's so good in the sack...

<sudden cessation of music....we hear isobel's anguished voice recount the
tale>

and then there came that day...when stuey went away... he vanished and he
never said goodbye..
he left my eyelids damp...my finger's getting cramp...its hard to please
yourself without a guy...
i saw the passing lorry and the giant "vimto" pallet

i heard a cough, the load fell off, and rolled towards the chalet(t)

my heart missed a beat
stu was in there
would he be prepared?
(nononononononono)

it seems i lost him at camber sands (sands sands)
he said he liked one of the other bands (lips...bands)
he started a new life
he buggered off to join his wife

i'll never forget him
the looper with the cap..

and now it seems like i'm nearly done
without him, b&s are just minus one
there's very little time to sa-ave..
i'm off to be a gentle wa-ave

bugger sebastian
i'm going to make a stack....

<fade>

(looper at the back
give me on-one)
(looper at the back
now he's go-one)
(looper at the back
been outsho-one)
(looper at the back
carry o-on)

with that, the tune fades away into an eerie silence, and the theme tune of
"wizadora" can be heard playing.  someone is heard shouting "where's me
fuckin money?"

ends.


--------------

so, my friends, i bring this discovery to you all, and trust you will find
it illuminating.  i think it says a lot (i worry a little about what it
really says...)

anyway, i'm off to be buggered by my lovely boyfriend, who has waited
patiently for me to finish this mail....hey
baby...if-a-lovin-you-is-wrong-i-don-wanna-be-right.....

i'm a terry towelling man myself.

ian

ps.  i heard some lesbians find that their tongues swell to such an extent,
that they have to borrow wheelbarrows to push the offending organs around
in....grown women pushing wheelbarrows....god help us and protect us.


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