Sinister: His usual diplomatic, coherent self

[Robin Stout]

Hullo

Mark Casarotto, sniggering at the back, said

>Robin S - no matter how much you pretend, the truth is seeping out 
>about your sordid sex secret. Does that make Arantxa a "raving 
>lesbo ho"?


	Well, I was told at the weekend that the word "stout" in 
Flemish, means "naughty", so perhaps you're right. When I first 
read the above sentence I read "of" instead of "about", making me 
think that Mark's filthy mind had finally gone too far. Or maybe it's 
just my filthy mind. And as you ask, Arantxa is a "raving lesbo ho" - 
you should see her dyke skees.

Stefan said:

>I think he must be a religious person, because
>when I passed him a few minutes ago to go to the toilet, I happened 
>to notice the gigantic Christian cross on his screen. He was trying 
>to cut it down to a certain size, but for what purpose exactly I don't 
>know, and I didn't dare ask him. Maybe he was a priest in disguise, 
>or just someone obsessed with crosses.

	Or maybe he was being stalked by vampires. VAMPIRES!!! 
Arrrgggghhhhhh!!!!!

	Then he talked about Johnny Cash's ring of fire. This song 
reminds me of my rather tragic Willenium night when we were 
standing in the pouring rain in London, next to the not-working-yet 
Millenium wheel singing "Ring of Fire" to keep our spirits up. "Oooh, 
lads" said Bert "I've got a burning ring of fire", and we all huddled 
around him to keep warm. We sang "Ring of Fire" almost non-stop 
for about an hour and a half, waiting for some rubbish fireworks. 
What a great night. I won't be doing that next Willenium.

	I went out last night, with a boy called John who lives round 
here and likes Belle and Sebastian. We went to a little pub and gave 
each other tapes and talked about things. John turned out to be very 
nice. Then the barman, whose mullet was the size of a Davy 
Crockett hat, roped us into a pub quiz. We were Table 1 and the quiz 
was apparently about 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s pop music, but it 
mostly seemed to be about what the barman called Supergroups. 
The barman and his dirty wife kept winking at us the whole time. 
"Here's a classic song from a famous Supergroup", the barman 
would say, winking at us and jangling his hand in his pocket, as if to 
say, "this one's for the young 'uns." We'd write Godspeed You 
Black Emperor! and the answer would be Status Quo. In the end we 
made a slightly hasty exit mid-quiz, while the barman and his dirty 
wife winked furiously to try and keep us in their clutches. As I left I 
could already feel my trousers tightening, and hair beginning to 
grow down the back of my neck. It was a near escape...

	Trying to work out if Alasdair is a comedy genius, or just 
plain bonkers..
		Robin x
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