Sinister: I feel the need. The need for REPORTING BACK!!

[robster]

On Saturday morning, the sun rose above the dull grey
rooftops of Finsbury Park.  With neither clouds nor
smog to restrict its power, it shone mightily upon the
house where Sinister folk were having breakfast.  It
shone, in the afternoon, upon Finsbury Park tube
station where Sinister folk old and new were meeting
up, nervously introducing themselves, saying 'hi!' and
'she used to be my boss!'.  It shone enticingly upon
Rowans bowling centre which the Sinister folk had made
their destination.

The sun wasn't shining inside Rowans, which begs the
question: 'What the hens were you doing there, then?' 
The answer was, of course, DRINKING!

Sorry, BOWLING!

During the first game, I was enjoying my best form
ever.  I got a double strike!  I did!  Sadly, my
bourgeoning skeelz weren't enough to beat the mighty
Kaiser who had complete mastery over his balls.

By game two, my mind was completely in the gutter.  My
skeelz deserted me and I was left in awe of Eric B's
triple strike.  Out of spite, I called him a turkey. 
We've done that joke.

Afterwards, we headed to the cosy carbon-copy evirons
of the World's End for scran and MORE BOUZE.  While
people bravely attempted to break Sinister drinking
records, an exciting leather-clad girl band serenaded
us with cover versions of Ticket to Ride.  We joined
in - we were GRATE!

The following morning, the sun didn't shine.  Bastard.
 Undaunted, we made a courageous attempt to picnic on
the summit of Primrose Hill where The View's So Nice. 
Fairy cakes and cheese scones (courtesy of the baking
skeelz of Liz and the decorating skeelz or Archel)
were eaten for survival as the elements took their
toll on our frail indie bodies.  

A football match between Sinister and
TheOtherB&SInternetHobby took place as well.  I don't
know what happened there because football is RUBBIDGE
- although I understand TheOtherB&SInternetHobby were
rightfully and soundly beaten.  With sticks.

Afterwards, we didn't go to the Spread Eagle.  This
was an excellent decision that should be included in
the manual for all future picnics.  

Too soon, though, time was called on my weekend in
London.  Another tube journey and a goodbye to the
Girlfriend at Waterloo followed.  Bah.  With the sun
setting, the skanky old train wound its way back to
Portsmouth.  I thought about taking another skanky old
train in the opposite direction on Friday.  Smiled.

Robster

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