Sinister: five candles

[ian]

(there's some relevant content at the bottom of this.  not much, though.
xxx ian)


i never would have looked inside, if nobody had mentioned it.
some doors are best kept closed, especially those with banging noises behind
them.
i was worried it might be a giant rat, or a party of escaped prisoners, who,
having tunnelled all the way from winson green,  had ended up in my airing
cupboard.

like last time.

last time was very painful.  they stayed for a while, tied up the boyf, ate
my biscuits, refused to shag me, and nicked my jose feliciano cd.  i can
live with the rejection and the danger, but i really miss hearing 'don't let
the sun catch you crying'.

anyway.  i wouldn't have looked inside, had nobody mentioned it.  but
somebody did:


she said

*PPS. Welcome Carl!  I believe there is some shady sinisterine called Ian
*resident in Brum, but you don't want to get involved with his particular
*brand of sin and depravity, trust me.  He kept a NUN in his CLOSET you
*know.

archel fucking playforth...with her rumour mill churning all day and night.
its no good, dear.  you can wash the dirty linen of others in public, but it
won't hide those nasty crotchless knickers you've got on your OWN LINE!

but, in the very depths of my mind, underneath the baby-oil soaked piles of
porn, the rusty coat-hangers and the piles of rotting vegetation, there WAS
a memory of a nun.
i wondered...


she appeared to be restrained, and gagged.  and to have her foot caught in
some sort of man-trap.  when i tried to untie her, she attacked me.  so i
re-did the knots, and put her other foot in the man-trap.

funny, these thumbscrews look familiar too.

anyway, she ranted for a while, and screamed that she was going to kill me,
and that i had no right to do what i had done, and that god would punish me.
the usual stuff people say.  it irritated me a little, because it did rather
get in the way of 'big boys take it backwards', but after i smacked her with
a hello kitty casserole dish she quietened down.

  she's clearly quite mad though:

'i came to you for help.  you attacked me, tied me up, and put me in there.
two months ago.'

'but i wouldn't do that.  you're a nun'

'i pointed that out to you.  it didn't seem to matter.  you muttered
something about stilettoes and suspenders and then hit me with a 'snuffy the
small brown dog' frying pan.  when i woke up, i was in there'.

she SAYS she's lived on insects, and drops of water from the boiler.

i must get that leak fixed.

anyway, i felt a bit bad.  whatever has happened clearly isn't my fault, but
i hate to see a fellow human being in distress.  she seemed to want
somewhere to stay, so i told her she could sleep in my shed, and could use
my computer to surf the net for porn if she wanted to.  i've kept her foot
in the man trap, though.  it doesn't pay to be too trusting.

its a dangerous, dangerous world out there, my friends.

keep the faith.  keep an eye out.  keep smiling through, just like you
always do.

and remember, ne'er cast a clout before may is out.

i love you
xx
ian


oh, and hi carl.  welcome to the list.  we had a birmingham picnic a while
back.  we'll have another one again soon, hopefully.  are the rest of you
midlanders up for it?  mail me if you are, and let me know.


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