Sinister: Postmen call far too early in Brighton!

[Mark Hester]

***BRIGHTON***

Getting from Brighton to Oxford by train isn't nice. Worth it once you're 
there however. Archel's meet-up was GRATE. Shame it was just me and her 
non-sini mates tho. Where were the rest of you (apart from Peter from whom 
we just heard)? I saw the famous tattoo, tasteful, starry and 
unsillustrationy so it was.

We went to the divebomb @ the Core only to discover that divebomb wasn't @ 
the Core anymore and if Corefolk knew where is was @, they weren't letting 
on. So it was on to the unclubbily-named Gloucester for indie dancing then 
back to Archel's for dodgy Dominican rum whilst being entranced by a lamp 
which changed colour and was a bit like a lava lamp 'cept it didn't look 
like it was full of globs of, y'know.....

Bed. Or should I say sofa.

I was roused by falling letters, not on my head tho it felt like it, then it 
was the usual wake-up-in-unfamiliar-place-with-aching-head routine. C'mon 
Hester, the equation's simple, no pencil chewing involved:

Sofa + Noisy Seagulls = Oh yeah I'm in Brighton.

Opencupboardnocoffee Opencupboardnocoffee Opencupboardcoffee. Then decent 
coffee courtesy of Archel's housemate Anna. Toast.

Later Archel took me round some amazing record shops. There are TONS and 
they're all good. I spent ££££££...Mrs Jamie T. Conway was more sensible. We 
went for a coffee and talked of the first records we ever bought. Archel's 
were produced by Stock Aitken & Waterman. Mine weren't. Then more record 
stores, more splurging by me & restraint from Archel, then home. Home in 
time to see....

***ARAB STRAP***

Whenever I talk to my friend Phil about twattybus, he always says, "Oh, 
there's a band called Arab Strap" and I respond, "Yes, I know". This 
exchange has happened at least ten times. Wasn't that familiar with their 
stuff, tho I knew there lyrics were a little bit sordid just as Doris...is a 
little bit partial. Fortunately no-one could see me blushing in the zodiac 
coz it was too dark.

Aidan had a bit of a fight with the keyboard at one stage. 
"Don't...buy...fookin'...Roland...machines...they're...fookin'...shite!" he 
spluttered. It has been noted. Aidan also introduced us to Adele, who looked 
daggers at us for ages before singing anything.

And how did Carsmile get near the front when he was way behind us in the 
queue? Does he have a gigteleport?

In the course of the evening colleague Colin said that he was at the last 
ever Pavement gig and heard _that_  quote with the handcuffs, in response to 
me telling him that I had just bought....

***STEPHEN MALKMUS***

The picture of Stephen with the horse is good 'n' wholesome...might have it 
as wallpaper. The pooter variety that is.

The best songs seem to be towards the end, speshly "Trojan Curfew" and 
"Jenny & the Ess Dog". Like Twinkle, I reserve the right to make complete 
u-turns in my opinions whenever the fancy takes me, so I shall probably hate 
these songs in a few days and concentrate on...

***SEEING OTHER PEOPLE'S POSTS***

Last week, Carsmile wrote:

>Went to see Frink Blick the other nite, by jimminy does he go on.  The 
> >first hour was quite good, but then he DIDN'T STOP!! after two and a 
> >quarter hours, he went off and THEN CAME BACK FOR AN ENCORE.  Why do 
> >bands have the temerity to think they can entertain us for that long?  
> >Even two hours of b&s would be pushing it, i just don't have the 
> >attention span i guess.

Monday night is pub quiz night not gig night, but I've never been impressed 
by the solo efforts of the Artist Formerly Known as Charles Kitteridge to be 
honest. Pixies yes, Kim Deal's Breeders, yes, but... (what's Kim doing now? 
Anyone?).

Long gigs per se aren't necessarily bad tho. I saw Julian Cope in Bristol 
and he played for *three* hours and kept my attention with plenty of 
mellotrons, old teardrop explodes stuff and only a brief interlude to visit 
the toilet.

speaking of which, today, Fiona wrote:

>but i have to tell you that i
>have never had so many responses as when i posted about there being
>pooh in our toilet. thankfully it seemed to disappear of its own
>accord, but i was very grateful for all the advice sent to me.

and I thought NO! This never happens...unless someone in Fiona's house 
(which sounds a barrel of laughs to live in, incidentally) eats something 
weird which subsequently generates soluble poo. Water-soluble poo, the 
answer to the world's sewage problems! But what can the something be?

and later on she said:

>someone said 'tidbits' i always thought it was titbits, like the
>bird, as in small bits of food for a bird to eat. but i could be
>wrong.

aha! You should read Bill Bryson, who explains how this is all due to the 
prudish nature of Americans in the dim and distant past. The "tit" in 
"titbits" made C19th Americans blush, so they changed it to "tid", just as a 
"cock" (as in male chicken) became "rooster" and the "cockroach" became 
"roach", like the fish. Maybe Lorraine Hosie has something to say on this 
subject as she likes etymology.

and even later she said:

>please listen,
>it should be good, last week i played baxendale, low, spearmint and
>felt.
and I thought, if Fiona presented the Evening Session rather than Mr. Lurpak 
I'd be a very happy man.

Love & Vimto,
Mark.
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