Sinister: bah sweet minty humbugs

[Daplyn Elizabeth]

  Walking down to town avoiding the dyspeptic shivering pigeons pecking
at last night's festive vomit only half washed away by the graceful
early morning rain that woke me falling against the bathroom skylight. 

  Thinking in a Friday daze that I have to unsubscribe once again due to
the unchancy nature of temping.

  Listening to the tompaulin album which finally arrived yesterday from
Rough Trade along with a bundle of other lovely stuff.  I must admit I'm
quite a convert to vinyl, but just for things like singles that I'll
only listen to at home, as a Dansette is kind of bulky even for my
capacious tweed coat-pockets.  

  'On the buses' would have been tritely appropriate, so I was glad to
sink into the wonderful double bill of 'kicking and punching' and 'the
boy hairdresser' as my Stagecoach stagecoach drew away from stand 11.

  Waiting through a last day of bad radio - full of all the crap that is
thought of as seasonal.  I'd quite like to hear David Bowie and Bing
Crosby doing 'Little Drummer Boy' for full-on surrealism value (what in
hell went through their coke-addled minds?), but I'll settle for Nat
King Cole, who is the least offensive option, or so it seems to me.

  I'd rather listen to 'Why That Doesn't Surprise Me' by The Lucksmiths,
though, so maybe I'll sneak it into the CD player later.  Sometimes I'll
get an album when it comes out and just not feel like listening to it,
then after a while I'll have an epiphany.  Not anally indie-punctual,
but it suits me.  Oh, those Luckies.  Three lovely lads, two of them
bleedin' gorgeous and also moderately talented songwriters, one somewhat
less blessed with the pretty stick and a complete bloody genius.

  'Are you torn in two
  When I talk to you?
  'Cause I'm torn in three
  When you talk to me'   

  Candle Records, yum.  Get stuff sent from Australia, blimey, and it's
still cheaper than buying it in the UK.

  Eurgh, the novelty earrings and forced corporate good cheer is getting
to me.  I suppose I should make an effort to rid myself of habitual
seething contempt when confronted by such social lubricants, but I'll
probably stick with the angst for a while yet.

  Well, that's me, I suppose.  Replies, comments, abuse to:
lizdaplyn at hotmail.com for the forseeable future.

     Liz D :x
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