Sinister: The Locker Room Of My Soul Is Full Of Panting Egrets

[Laura Llew]

I'm saying this strictly for effect.

I always wonder how confusing it is for newcomers to the list to become 
assimilated with all the inside jokes and references that sinister members 
seem to bat around with ease. For instance in response to queries of who was 
Struan Mark Casarrotto muttered, "Don't you chaps ever have your own 
nicknames for things and people you feel affection for? You're called mmm 
skyscraper, mate, you're hardly one to talk."

You'd think he was all *down* with nicknames but try to regularly call him a 
'smarmy little bastard' as a term of endearment as see how well he warms up 
to you. It doesn't even matter if you throw in a little cheer of  "Gimme a 
C! Gimme an A! Gimme an S! Oh, fuck this shit." Boys - you can't live with 
them and it's illegal to chop them up in tiny pieces and feed them to 
fishies with sharp teeth.

Personally, I have my own little nicknames for members of the band:

Stuart Murdoch: Oh, Cabana Boy
Stuart David: Alcoholocaust
Bob Kildea: Why that Looks Nothing Like Stuart David
Richard Colburn: Tricky Dicky (Evidently, I shouldn't say "that might just 
be what my life is missing - a little tricky dicky." It results in people 
running away from me.)
Sarah Martin: Betty Ford
Isobel Campbell: Abracadever which just barely beat out the frequently used 
(but never by me. Oh no) - Hey Fat Ass, Why The Hokey Are You Wearing 
WRANGLERS?

Another thing newbees might not be aware of is certain listees one should be 
wary of. For example, Miss Maddie Minx minxed, "Question. Can the Americans 
amongst us please explain, in full lurid detail (or charming euphemism if 
you wish) what exactly first, second and third base are? I mean, I do know 
generally, but I want specifics."

A while back MMM was asking about how to give hickies. Not knowing how to 
accurately do justice to its beauty via the restrictive medium of words I 
simply said that I'd just show her if we ever met. Pegging Americans as lazy 
with words it's obvious she's just fishing for "hands-on" tutorials. Next 
thing you know she'll be changing her voice mail to say, "I can't come to 
the phone right now because I'm too fucking busy... and vice versa." Beware 
kids, you have no idea what she has in mind for that seventh inning stretch.

Thinking of Saucy Sinister Girls (and when are we not?), I finally got to 
meet *the* Sexpot herself - Miss Julie who might be best known on the list 
for her love letters to Neil Robertson last autumn (I know they brought 
tears to my eyes) and being the ever faithful NY picnic mum. She graciously 
let me stay at her house a few roadtrips ago when I was up in Pennsylvania. 
We went bowling!, played air hockey!, played skee ball!,  she played ddr (i 
watched from afar), and picked out fashionable jelly bracelets from our 
winning tickets. Oh yes - we are VERITABLE renaissance women. It was much 
fun and she is everything you could hope for in a girl. She has

Personality:
Me: Where have you been? Did you get a life?
Julie: No! And I am insulted that you would insinuate such a thing!

Looks:
Hello, she's a sexpot! and a GWG.

Keen Insight On Life:
"The Make Out Club and where emo losers go to look for other emo losers with 
whom to have drunken fumblings with after the Bright Eyes show."  (Sidenote: 
I've been to a Bright Eyes show and I can assure you there was NO drunken 
fumblings after it. I demand a refund!)

A Bookshop Girl:
"Sometimes I stare at the three shelves of Chicken Soup books at my work and 
think my God, how much inspiration does the world need. We are truly in a 
sad state if we need THIS much inspiration. Chicken Soup for the Golfer's 
Soul? Like it's so trying to be a golfer. "I had a terrible day at the 
country club today, so stressful. I need some chicken soup for my soul." 
There is also Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul, and Chicken Soup for 
the Dog and Cat Lover's Soul. Apparently they couldn't scrounge up enough 
inspiration for separate dog and cat books. Once someone came into my store 
and asked for Chicken Soup for the Dental Soul. I can only imagine. 
Inspiring, witty anecdotes about dental hygienists overcoming their 
respective tumors or whatever."

I didn't get her permission to quote any of the above so hopefully she 
doesn't see fit to scourge me or anything. Now, if I can just get around to 
meeting the other New Yorkers who win my heart with their murmurings of, "I 
have a problem with Ben & Jerrys too - its called MY FAT ASS."

Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.

Laura
"meeting all your Laura Llew needs since 1977"

* Cheer courtsey of Rob Brennan and Ben & Jerrys quote courtsey of Brian 
Winters.








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