As I lounge elegantly in my green bath robe and seductively smoke Sovereign
Lights (for non UK people: cheap scummy cigrettes), the delicate light from
the 60 watt bulb of the bedside lamp (yes, I know it's 11.35 am and I should
really open the curtains) casting flattering shadows on my finely sculpted
cheekbones, I trawl the Sinister archives for fun and frolics. I now know
why we all called a legion of bedroom saddo devotees. I read the funniest
email in the world... EVER (part 7) written by Honey. Tears rolled down my
cheeks and the housemate hastily revised her opinion of me from "odd" to
"mad as a bucket". Also, there was a lot of smut back in those days. I only
subscribed to the list in March this year, and I fear I may have missed my
chance to swap mittens for sexual favours, or whatever the sinister kids did
back in the day.
Speaking of Honey, which I was, sort of, did you know she's now in my top
two favourite Princesses of all time list? My other favourite all time
Princess is Princess Madeleine of Sweden. I love her, although we have never
met, of course. The reason I love her? It's because of her that my housemate
(the nice one) calls me Princess Madeleine. I used to think it was because
he saw me as something of a prima donna (first lady? Pah!) but now
everything is clear and thanks to the original Princess Madeleine, I love my
housemate more than ever and things are happy and harmonious chez nous.
Christmas coming, fat geese, goodwill, etc. I can now listen to my "It's a
Cool Cool Christmas" cd again. Isobel is at her asthmatic hamster best in O
Come O Come Emmanuel, I think. I can also tangle myself up in fairy lights
(I occasionally do this for fun, but we shall not speak of it) and battle
with sellotape and wrapping paper. My signature scent is now marmite and
clementines (instead of just marmite as it is during the rest of the year.
Although some people would argue with that and say I taste of beer and
cigarettes). I have already given in to my selfish needs and opened a
present I bought for my sister and played with it myself.
One of the worst things about getting old is looking forward to Christmas
because it means a rest, rather than it meaning food! and presents! and more
food! Maybe I'll turn into one of those evil people like my parents who
spend hours and hours faffing about on Christmas morning doing nonessential
things like eating and getting dressed and claim they're "savouring the
day". If I'm not careful I'll start getting up and opening the curtains
before noon too. Then where will the madness end?
I have desperately tried to think of content for this post. I love B&S. They
make my heart melt, make me feel as if I'm wrapped in a duvet, or standing
on top of a mountain with a bracing wind blowing into my face, or like I'm
soaking in a hot spring in Iceland or like I'm eating all the mince pies in
the world without gaining any weight or feeling sick. Favourite song of the
moment is "Miraculous Technique" I think. I listen to it on the way to work
and it (almost) makes everything perfect. I say almost because I'm still me
and I still have to go to work and there's still a crust of toothpaste in
the corner of my mouth, so it's not entirely perfect, is it?
I'm hoping to meet some of you soon, you know who you are. I'm much looking
forward to it. Don't forget to save your pennies between now and then so you
can take me out and treat me like a princess. Three pints and a bag of chips
should do it.
Bulk smut,
Madeleine
xxx
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+-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+
+-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+
+-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+
+-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+
+-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+
+-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+
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