Sinister: Junior Praise (HarperCollins, ISBN 0551040149)

[Daplyn Elizabeth]

AUTUMN DAYS WHEN THE GRASS IS JEWELLED

  Nearly Hallowe'en once again, and I've turned another year older, this
time having made a break for it and run away to join the London Village
circus.  "Hurrah!" cry all the people who moved to Glasgow just in time to
avoid my arrival.  Have spent far too much time in 'the' pub destroying
brain cells, but with such nice company.  This recalls foolish drunken
ramblings about setting up a dedicated Sinister venue where twee pilgrims
from all over the world could rest their weary heads in pools of beer on the
shining counter presided over by their genial host.  I vote for Stout Robin
to provide all relevant landlordly bonhomie.  Ribena on tap!  Tigermilk wine
thankfully not on tap!  Buckfast maybe!  And a back room with silly dancing
quite literally a-go-go.  I'll bake cakes for the clientele, even.  If
anyone has a big thumping lottery win we could be on our way, lads. 

AND THE SILK INSIDE A CHESTNUT SHELL

  A lovely crispy day, the piles of chlorophyll-bereft fallen leaves on the
way to the bus stop looking seasonally gorgeous, having dried out overnight
and thus not sticking to my nice shoes.  I hope no-one in Britain  was
damaged by the gales (not hurricanes despite headless chicken action by
newspapers) over the weekend.  Those in areas of the world with exXxtreme
weather may laugh indulgently at our own little Tornado Alley in Hampshire,
but a storm in a teacup is exciting to the teabag.  Or summink.  Oh, and we
have, like, EARTHQUAKES now and everything.  It's the end times, I tell
youse.  What's the number of the Beast, man?  I need to make a collect call.


JET PLANES MEETING IN THE AIR TO BE REFUELLED

  Overweight pigeons;
  Spindly naked cherry trees
    oscillate wildly

  This was composed on Friday evening as I passed through the beautiful
Alexandra Palace park on the bus from work.  Nothing like observational
comedy haiku.  Nothing, I tell you.  But this reminds me that there must be
a Sinister Skating exStravaganza at the ice rink within the palace at some
point.  There's even a pub to go to afterwards in order to soothe sore
fallen-over-on bums and knees, not to mention a view to rival that from
Primrose Hill.  

  In other meetup news, Elle (hello, person with my sister's name!) said:
 
<<Anyway, I was just trying to say Tigermilking was great. Cheers, Mark.>>  

It was indeed the grandest of fun, as things organised by Mr C generally are
(notwithstanding porn viewings).  Cheers boyo, even if you have deserted us
to have fun in America at the moment.  So what things _are_ there to do in
Denver when you're bald?  

ALL THESE THINGS I LOVE SO WELL

  Harrumph.  I must admit it now, although it galls somewhat: the Magnetic
Fields' triple album "69 Love Songs" is a work of genius, and it only took
people playing it to me for 6 months for it to filter through.  Jeez Louise
but I'm always behind the Times,  rather like Uncle Bulgaria.  To add
substance to this statement, I only saw "Fight Club" for the first time this
weekend.  Mmm, falling skyscrapers as affirmative imagery connected to happy
ending of film, that's not going to happen, well, ever again, probably.

SO I MUSTN'T FORGET, NO I MUSTN'T FORGET

  Eek, will need to post tape tree tape on soonish.  On this subject, the
next tape that I make is going to have some quality stuff on it, as I haff
mostly bin exploring junk shops' vinyl sections, coming up for air this
Saturday with, amongst others,  "Best of Dolly Parton - volume 2", "Non Stop
Erotic Cabaret" by Soft Cell, and a Stylistics album.  How freaking
eclectic. 

TO SAY A GREAT BIG THANK-YOU 

  People who got me cool stuff (and pints) for the occasion of my turning 24
years young are officially wonderful.  Especially *you*.  Yikes, now I'm the
age that I am, I'll have to watch out that heart disease doesn't put the
kibosh on "My Brilliant Career" by Miles Franklin (Virago Press, ISBN
0860681939).  Ahem.

  Love,
    Liz :x

I MUSTN'T FORGET

p.s. Now that the answers to the treasure hunt clues have been released, I
wonder if Ken will be a happier boy, and maybe drive me and Marianna to the
Oriental City sometime to eat noodles and look at pretty tropical fish.


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