Sinister: tower lobby floor... tower lobby floor?

[jonny five]

dear sini, 

new home is now home, and old home is now not home, which is very
confusing. flat "mates" are horrid and discuss porn earnestly. and throw
copies of socialist worker in the bin, and think thatcher was grate. when
she grates. dear oh dear. they think travis covering baby one more time
makes it a good song, when it seems to me it makes it a worse song if
anything. spending more and more time in library with lovely view of hills
- can't remember name of district, poss. Peak district.

why am i writing this like a telegram? i've been watching wayne's world and
don't look back far too much, but still... it's better than actually doing
anything approaching work. it's funny because i love history, and i thought
i'd enjoy studying it. but so far, i don't. maybe i need to put more effort
in. is there a Sinite out there whose school reports didn't always say
'must try harder... could do better'? 

i've been planning a Sinister Cryptic crossword competition, but so far
have managed to come up with a mere, piffling one clue:

erica macarthur and eric d. brasure lose their surnames and meet an e-mama
(7, 7)

answers and other clues on postcards, preferably electronic ones. then
again, i could do with some post... other fab ideas have been a christmas
present for Honey which we can all buy her (email me for further details,
and no disguising yourself to hear what you're getting, honey). it should
work out incredibly cheap, maybe 1p each (that's about 3c i think) so get
in touch and i'll try and be organised. 

went shopping yesterday instead of watching Battleship Potemkin. Bought my
first pair of flares (black cordoruy beasts. oh i can't spell cordoroy...
corduroy?) and some nice levi grey skinny sta-prest things. if there are
any sheffield Sinites out there, then visit Freshmans, cause it's the best
and the beast. i have been looking out for Sinites, but failed miserably so
far. actually, i've met one (chris) which must be something approaching
success. if you see me, with my diamond dave bowie hair, lanky demeanor and
nice trews then say hi. or call my name and see if i jump. whichever
pleases you the most... i'll be touring the indie clubs of the region
(bed... offbeat... fuzz club... new york... paris... peckham) and waving my
flares in your general direction.

oh, anyway, i didn't have anything B&S to say. except that i've won two new
converts, and that i still haven't worked out how to 'do' MP3 for middle
distance runner. Just filling the time between flitting about the library
(fey central) and going to a seminar to discover how stupid i am. happy
days! please all get in touch about Honey's pressie, i think i'm onto
something approaching a winner. or maybe not...

lots of love
j.xxx
ps thanks again to eric and miles for keeping me company. and to Yorkshire
Tea for keeping me together.
pps here's another crapass attempt at a new Pauline L Shivers poem:

she dances through europe
eats minces and livers
avoiding the call-up
it's Pauline L Shivers!

that was even worse than the last one.

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