Sinister: I'm not what I KEN be, I need a CHU love...

[Rachel fruitloop]

HELLO SINISTER!

First off, I'd like to say crap, hell, doody, boob on a shingle.  No
reason.

Secondly, I'd like to do a little REPORTING BACK on the events of the
SIMIster picnic here in the lovely city of Simi Valley CA on
Saturday.  Just a little background, Simi Valley is neslted lovingly
in some mountains about, oh, 40 miles north of Los Angeles, and is
the home of the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library. The simplest way
to describe this town where I was raised (and grudgingly returned to
live) is crap hell doody boob on a shingle. What a great place for a
picnic, though!

Those in attendance were myself and Mr.Ben Apps.  We started out in
the morning like we do every morning with poor Ben trying to drag my
comatose ass out of bed. "get up and make the goddamned sandwiches!"
he shouted as he whacked me on the backside. Not really, but that
would be funny. We packed up Ben's rucksack with a bed sheet and the
aforementioned sandwiches, as well as a container of very fruity
sangria and other random foodstuffs that make a summer picnic swell
(i.e. potato chips and melon). I think it would have been cooler (as
in totally tubular dude, not temperature-wise) if we packed our food
in a red polka-dotted bandana tied up on a stick for a handle to
sling over one shoulder.  But instead, we wore some hats as it was
the fashion of the time, and Ben's was actually the one he bought in
Brighton a few months back when Mark Casarotto fell in the sea.
(dude, that hat is SOOOOOO February 2002!) I wore a hat that Ben got
from his bro, Mr. Will Haigh.  Which actually didn't match my outfit
at all, but considering I was wearing a pink sun dress over blue
jeans and that my hair is bright aqua, the hat is the least of my
fashion faux pas, ya know! :)

A SIMIster picnic just wouldn't be a picnic without walking.  YES
walking. You see, in Simi Valley, you only walk if A. you are not old
enough to drive, or B. you have a DUI and will have your hiney thrown
in jail if you're caught driving. Usually it's the latter. But
walking is a necessity when venturing out for a picnic because if you
are like me, it probably means that you'll drive a mile for fried
foods at any given moment. This is a perfect opportunity to cut down
on your parklife, mate.  ahem.  Ben whistled Storytelling nearly the
whole way there and I couldn't remember the lyrics so I just kept
saying "crap hell doody boob on a shingle" to the tune over and over
again in my head.  Not really, but I should have.  I just hummed
along.

I have to say that I think that Storytelling is really good. Now, I
definitely wouldn't say it's my favorite B&S album, but I enjoy it
immensely and it's so lovely to listen to on a hot and lazy summer
afternoon, lounging on your bed in front of a fan while someone (such
as your fiancé) does the washing up. Scooby Driver is my favorite, I
think.  And like my favorite song on TWATTYBUS, Simple Things, it's
also so short it could have been an accident. What gives?

Back to THE PICNIC!!! After walking a mile and a half, we arrived at
the grounds of the municipal park called Rancho.  There was a nice
shady tree under which we spread out the sheet and broke out the
booze.  We were positioned nicely away from the crowds of families
and yet still had a good view of the man-made pond and the glorious
view of little children being chased by/chasing the ducks and people
sitting around pretending to be fishing, as if you could catch
anything (besides dysentery) in that murky green water.  A father
urged his daughter to throw things at an ugly goose. How very SIMI
VALLEY of him! That's probably why the majority of children who
walked by our blanket tugged at their parents' sleeves and gave us
dirty looks. "Dad that goose had blue hair, can we throw shit at her
too?" No honey, that goose can press charges. It's funny cos when I
was in high school this was just the reaction I wanted, but now I
just can't be bothered.  So I went back to snogging Ben Apps who is
cuter than Stuart Murdoch, and hotter than Simi Valley asphalt on a
summer day. Ken Chu said that Ben Apps looks like Stuart Murdoch,
which is funny since Ken Chu looks so much like Chris "Beans" Geddes,
and my fanny looks so much like Isobel's.  Actually, I think if you
combined Ben and James the Dancing Hatchback, the result would be
pretty close to Stuart Murdoch. And if the two ever wanted to embark
on such a project, I'd love to watch! (ohmygod that's DIRTY! Crap
hell doody boob on a shingle!) 

The picnic ended with a nice walk around the duck pond and a thought
that we should have brought a guitar or a football. But we had to get
back home anyway so we headed that way, and I got really sunburned on
my shoulders and back. Next, we got our swimming attire. Then we
headed over to my friend Tina's POOL PARTY in Van Nuys that was less
sinister and more like 5 girls in bikinis, me in my old lady bathing
suit, and Ben thrown in for good measure. I didn't wear a bikini cos
my "I heart poo" tattoo on my gigantic Isobel ass might show, and you
can imagine how fucking cool that would be! Ohmygod, I cursed! Crap
hell doody boob on a shingle!
Hugs and summer lovin' to you all!
love,
Rachel fruitloop

P.S. For those Californians out there who are interested, BAppsy and
I are trying to devise plans for L.A. and San Fran Sinister picnics
sometime in the next month! You game?




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