Sinister: We've got class

[Madeleine McNeil]

My God! Don't you just ADORE that Sir David of Stankin Cooter? What a lovely 
chap he is, with his funny, warm and affectionate posts. And yes, he is a 
lazy (though devilishly handsome) swine as I believe I am a recipient of one 
of those piles of gifts in his room. Although goodness knows how he's 
managed to neatly stack the dingo and kangaroo he's promised to send me....

I also adore Stacey "Dahling" Stackford. She's a Sinister SuperHero, you 
know, and is simply wonderful. I think she should subvert those children 
she's working with. She could teach them stories about charming little 
children called Belle and Sebastian who played in a band and went touring in 
a big bus. It could be a kind of Monkees/Jem/ Scooby Doo type hybrid thing. 
Jem was a funny woman, with HUGE pink hair in a mullet, a la those singing 
women in bands like Heart. I was wooed by someone who gave me a Jem book 
instead of a birthday card once. I think it was the inscription in the front 
of the book that did it: it was addressed to Maddie Magik. How could I 
resist?

The new single (*gasp* content shocker!). Well, at the risk of alienating 
every single one of you: I don't like dogs. I really really don't like dogs. 
Their dewy eyes do not warm my heart. Their wet noses and excess saliva 
terrify me. There is one dog I am slightly fond of, but only because she's 
so incredibly stupid it feels mean to hate her. I digress.

The cover put me off. The first listen didn't rock my world. Neither did the 
second. However, by the time I'd turned the volume right up and stood up for 
a little dance, I was sold. It's magnifique! The bassoon and oboe are grate, 
and make me laugh. When I was 14, I played the oboe in two school orchestras 
and my best friend played the bassoon. We were the reed instrument gang. The 
clarinets could join in because they were single reed, but we were double 
reed. Aren't teenagers exclusive?

I enjoyed the Later... moments. I didn't actually get to watch them until 
yesterday. Even though I was taping it, I wanted to come home from the pub 
on Friday night to watch too. Instead, I got dragged to some snooty 
over-priced after hours bar. Last things I remember from the night? 
Haranguing a man who tried to trick me into kissing him two years ago (I 
have a long memory for tricksters) and watching the loved one dance, mad as 
a bucket, to Stevie Wonder in the middle of the room. How I got home.... who 
can say?

Christmas is making me very excited at the moment. I can appreciate why it's 
horrible if people don't feel they can spend it the way they want to. When I 
was younger I hated it, as my family were all at each others' throats. Now, 
we just pour wine, gin, beer and other toxics down out throats and get on 
swimmingly. Also, I'm a big greedy fan of materialism when it comes to 
Christmas. Where's my stuff? Give me more shiny, useless plastic STUFF! It 
has to be useless, that's the most important factor of a gift. While I was 
very grateful when my Dad gave me a television arial, a wee frying pan and a 
tool kit, my heart sank when I realised they would actually *do* something. 
I like things I can put on the shelf and look at while they collect dust and 
fade slightly in the sunlight.

I loved Sir David's idea about a #sinister Top of the Pops. There could be 
garish graphics and irritating back ground music. Honey and Linda could 
present it. Vicky Vodkabird could be the roving reporter. Ken could be the 
pervy bloke in the audience who pinches girls' bottoms while they're 
watching the 10 to 2 run down. I would be the disappointing chart entry at 
number 18, I think. A poor showing, due to my lack of publicity and 
promotion. I make no appearances at picnics, pubnics, gigs, etc. I never 
have my photo taken. I don't do interviews... well, it worked for B&S.

After expressing a general indifference to each and every one of you, I am 
now quite overcome with affection. Props to you all, but especially to
Rob Brennan (he has Stu M brand arms of sex, you know. That's what he told 
me anyway. Gullible? Moi?)
Dannypants Farrell who is grand and class and all the other daft words that 
I use
Lovely Miss Honey, who I am slowly but surely corrupting
Lluscious Lliterary Llaura Llew, who underneath her benevolent exterior 
hides a heart of true malevolence.

You're all darlings and I heart the lot of you.

I will be vile and bitter again by the next post, I promise.

Love
Madeleine
xxxx

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