Sinister: everything in its right place

[Liz Daplyn]

Hello hello!

What a grand Sinister tweekender it was in London, and not just because on 
Saturday I didn't have to go more than about 500 yards from my house to 
participate in all the bowling, bouzing, and bullshitting activities that 
one could possibly desire to be present at.  Boys and girls, ladies and 
gents, you're all lovely and I hope you enjoyed your weekends, wherever in 
the world you are, but I am greatly and particularly pleased with the 
company I've been keeping of late.

PERSPIRATION MADE A FOOL OF ME

So I was dreading stepping up to the line with my girly 10 pound ball,
having made little or no progress with my bowling form of late, but as the 
frames progressed, I was astonished to find myself racking up the spares, 
gaining a place in the elite Champions League team (as opposed to the UEFA 
and Worthingtons Cups that were alternately fought over by the lesser 
mortals present) for the second game, and, ultimately, an overall bronze 
position behind Mark and Ken, which is a fine position if you like indie-boy 
posteriors.  Metaphors my mixed unfortunately are.

SHE'S GOT IT, BABY SHE'S GOT IT

Eventually we escaped the slightly sticky confines of Rowans fine
establishment (containing, lest we forget, a 'health suite' and snooker hall 
as well as 24 lanes of bowling joy) for the mildly more salubrious surrounds 
of the Worlds End public house, where large leather sofas and banquette 
seating were commandeered for our use while we ate, drank, and made 
extremely merry.  Unfortunately, or superbly, depending on your opinions on 
stretch leather halter tops, our inebriated discussion forum was interrupted 
by the appearance on stage of Venus, North London's premier girl covers 
band.  The daring hypothesis that the Beatles' "Ticket To Ride" may be 
combined with all popular music numbers was tested in this live setting by a 
(some would say unwilling and, indeed, unwitting) collaboration between 
ourselves and the ladies of Venus, and so far has held up admirably, but 
will require further experimentation until fully empirically verified.  Why 
not try it at home yourselves?

OH NO!  FOOTBALL!  OH NO!

Sunday brought a sadly cloudy sky and a trip to Camden, where the
goth-residue may be measured by the extent of precipitation of fresh black 
eyeliner and facial piercings upon all and sundry in the locale.  Freshly 
baked goods, posh crisps, and red red wine were hauled up Primrose Hill, 
where we reposed shivering until the latter comestible kicked in.  There 
were team sports, and I believe that what passes for our honour was upheld 
against The Other Belle & Sebastian Interweb Hobby.  It was found necessary 
to repair to a very nice pub for the remainder of the proceedings.

AND RELAX...

As the Kaiserotto said, there are only a few oldies (in list duration rather 
than actual age, ducky) still posting, and some are more equal than others. 
By which I mean to say that I should pay more attention to all your lovely 
pink writings (reading the archives is a bit conspicuous at work), and 
contribute more often myself.  I'd tie a knot in my hanky for remembrance if 
I had one, but you'll just have to trust me on this one.

  Love,
    Liz :x

--------------------------------
yes is a pleasant country:
if's wintry
(my lovely)
let's open the year

both is the very weather
(not either)
my treasure,
when violets appear

love is a deeper season
than reason;
my sweet one
(and april's where we're)

     e. e. cummings

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