Sinister: Once there was a scientist with a nose made of silver

[Will Salt]

2pm, and it's already dark enough to light the streetlamps.  It must be 
getting close to winter.  I wanted to go out this afternoon and take 
photographs, but it's too dark to do that now.  The film in my camera 
has pictures of stacey *dahling*, Danny The Champion of West Ayrshire 
and various other Sinister celebrities, and I want to see what they 
look like.

I'm feeling annoyed today.  My mad flatmate concocted a Cunning Plan to 
move to Wales without me noticing and thus con me out of the £1000 she 
owes me in rent.  She has this marvellous idea of getting a job in a 
hotel in a small Welsh seaside resort, in the middle of winter, without 
being able to speak the language.  Maybe she will try to persuade them 
she can speak the language; that would be quite funny.  All day I have 
had phone calls from Welsh hoteliers.  I want to tell them all that she 
is trying to escape her debts, and that she nearly got booted from her 
last hotel job for sleeping with the guests; but I can't bring myself 
to do it.  It is true, before you ask.  On her last day at work she 
killed a few minutes by shagging a visiting pest controller.  I don't 
think he could bring her under control though.

When she has men, she tries to hide me from them.  She only brings them 
over if she's very drunk, or if she thinks I'm going away.  Maybe she's 
worried that I'll tell them what she's like.

But that's enough ranting.  If anyone is looking for a nice cheap 
Edinburgh flat, let me know.  Even if she doesn't go, I really ought to 
let the spare room out.  I'm probably just jealous because I had a job 
interview last week and haven't heard anything yet.  Smells like doom.

Liz Daplyn said I'm very blonde.  Only on my head, dear.  I get even 
blonder in summer, though.  Something to do with the light.

Oooh, yes, there was a picnic.  I went down to London specially for it, 
and it was fun.  Lots of frightening people who I didn't know.  Lots of 
drink, too,  and not much actual outdoorsness.  I tried to persuade a 
non-sinister friend of mine to come along, but he was too desperate to 
do his Christmas shopping.

I had met some of the people at the picnic before.  Big Gay Mark 
thought I was the epitome of twee, or something.  "Every time I see you 
you have pigtails and makeup," he said.  "That's two separate 
occasions!" I shouted.  I didn't have my hair in pigtails this time, 
and the only makeup was the extremely expensive red stuff that Lucy was 
putting on everybody.  Twenty-three pounds per bottle of crushed rose 
petal essence.

I enjoyed the picnic far too much.  It must have been the gin.  Rachel 
and Rachel persuaded me to drink it, along with many many other types 
of spirit.


"it's very small, and made of glass
and grossly over-advertised"



SCANDINAVIAN TRIVIA MOMENT:

Those of you with the Pop Knowledge will have already realised what 
song (and what band) I stole the subject line from.  Those of you who 
know your bacon will even be able to think of a scientist with a nose 
made of silver, and those of you who know so much trivia you spend all 
your days staring up at the sky will be able to name a scientist with a 
nose made of silver and an extremely tenuous connection to the Sinister 
list.  Answers on a postcard, if you can be bothered.



What else happened at the picnic?   I don't think I can remember; it 
was a whole week ago now nearly.

I did have a slight idea: in Christmas week, I will be taking fellow 
listee Dimitra to visit the picturesque former county of Humberside.  
Does anyone who will be in that area then fancy a small christmas 
picnic?  I know there are (or were) at least three other listees with 
connections to Grimsby or Hull, and Sheffield isn't too far away 
either.  Let me know if you're interested.

Right.  That's the post.  Should I now a) do my laundry and go hang 
round bookstores, or b) play 3D Tetris again?  It's a difficult 
decision, you know.

Ta-taa,

gneissy
xx







"But I was lying out in the long grass
Just watching the clouds pass over the sun
And I was dreaming of a journey
Down a river, to an ocean.
And through the breaks in the waves
I could see that we were saved
I could see that we were saved
 From destruction."


-- 
Will Salt
ICQ 66321009
http://www.btinternet.com/~wpsalt/
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