Sinister: the model with the boyband air

[Rachel Playforth]

so, i'm back at work after losing my heart (and my ring, and my dignity)
in london.  the gig at brixton was as people have reported really.  i
didn't enjoy it quite as much as the albert hall, perhaps because the
band, although cheery in a slightly manic way, did seem tired.  i knew
how they felt.  and forgetting the lyrics of your two opening numbers is
a bit hard to forgive.  but there were some lovely moments, chris and
stevie looked gorgeous, and isobel even laughed a few times.  

meanwhile (or rather, before), the pre-gig picnic was an international
festival of fun.  dimitra, rachel sunnyset, the boy greg, bapps, the YSM
(sam, stuart, chris and feathertara), jim (of the purple breeches), ian
(sans st peter), liz daplyn, hannah brown, sarahs GS and beckett,
(lord?) anthony and richard, plus assorted americans, italians, greeks
and spaniards all variously cavorted and lolled in green park.  some of
us were unfortunate enough to be drawn into greg's evil power trip
(cunningly disguised as a card game).  liz sneered at my screw-top wine.
 i sneered back at her powerpuff girl tumblers.  we went round the
circle and said our names like it was an AA meeting.  sam informed us
that the lyrics to 'the model' are masquerading as a westlife song on
the internet.  and it's true! (http://www.marcolino.com/w/westlife/4.htm
l).  also, everyone was far too louche to play football.  and i did like
them so :)

later the pub floor creaked under the weight of the sinister (now
genuinely) massive.  money and tickets changed hands.  our punning
skills were tested to the limit in the 'kenchu-ry of fakers' sticker
game.  (though as the tentacles spread, how much longer can we really
call it a game...?)  we explained the meaning of 'twat'.

on the train home i sat next to some people who'd just been to see south
pacific.  they were all about 65, yet were even more flushed and excited
than i was in my post-gig euphoria.  i left my ken chu sticker and an
empty pringles tube on the train for them as a fair summary of my day.

i slept like a baby.

luv archel xxx

ps. richard raskolnikov is fascinated by cars.  stuart murdoch loves
his.  i resent and fear them, or rather their drivers.  i don't see why
i should be made to feel like the guilty party if i cross a road a
little precipitously when the other party is approaching in A MASSIVE
METAL BOX ON WHEELS.  in what way do pedestrians (or cyclists) have the
upper hand in a road situation???  


******************
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