Sinister: If you find yourself caught in muff

[kenneth.chu at xxx.org]

"if in doubt, swap love for muff"

Not my motto, personally, but I'm sure some people swear by this rule and I
can imagine many a cunning linguists out there coming up with a mouthful of
muff, so to speak.  Shaggy once said he wasn't fond of such witty group of
wordsmiths because they're always found eating sushi from the barber's
floor.  In any case, he pronounces "lover" as "lubber" but pronounce "muff"
as "mubb" he does not, and thus the pun is lost in his barrage of brilliant
bo(o)mbasticity.

ANYWAY.

It's been a while.

The last time I e-mailed I was talking about how I was about to go to
GLASTONBURY.  I've gone there now and back again, and now I feel very well
rehearsed in my reportage back on Glastonbury events because, when you go
back home/back to work from Glastonbury all that anyone would ask you for
two weeks would be...

"How was Glastonbury?"

And it seems strange that I feel as if each time I try to tell my
Glastonbury tales it becomes harder, maybe because the spontaneity has gone,
and the fifth time you tell the stories I felt like reading from a book, and
not a very good book because of my poor anecdotical skills.  

But suffice to say I had a great time, and I even got to MEET some sinister
peeps e.g. The Dirty Vicar + Rener who were disappointingly clean and
non-dirty, but great, and also Lucy English Teacher who had nice sunglasses
on and was a fellow sufferer of car parking blues and Cay Cola Cube whom I
just bumped into! after Delgadoes seeage and had a Pet Sounds T-shirt on,
and Robin Stout who gave me a hug! obviously still in euphoria after having
had his mouth set on fire by Wayne Coyne.

T'was nice MEETing you all and hopefully we'd MEET again and then you can
all take photos of me to prove that we've MET!  I took some photos...

http://uk.photos.yahoo.com/bc/kenglasto


I watched about half of the bands I said I'd watch and I went \m/ to all the
bands that I said I'd possibly go \m/ to.  And I got myself a really strong
tan which has now gone all crusty like mashed potatoes with insufficient
butter content (eeew), eeew!  I hope I'll be pretty again soon.

--

For some reason, yesterday I suddenly realised that it was the birthday of
the girl I fancied when I was 10 (I think she fancied me too!), god knows
how I remember these things!  Actually I still remember her phone number but
I think she must have moved by now.  Ah well.  I actually ended up
relocating myself away from her (6000 miles away in fact), but that's
another story.

That sounded as if I was ending this post on a weep note.  So I'm going to
mention the revival of TIGERMILKING.  It's G!R!A!T!E! and it's happening
NEXT SATURDAY, the 19th (NINETEENTH) of July (OF JULY).  At the Betsey
Trotwood (BETSEY TROTWOOD!) from 8 (EIGHT) pm (PM).  It's going to be
dance-tastic.  Even for spotty-oiks who like B&S.  It'd make both
intelligent and dumb people shake their asses i.e. better than
Fischerspooner.

http://www.undermybed.org/tigermilking

Be there or be CHER*.  You don't want that now, do you.

Ken
*Instead of Tigermilking you ACTUALLY CAN go and see CHER instead at the
Verizon Wireless Arena in Manchester, New Hampshire.
http://www.vh1.com/artists/az/cher/tours.jhtml
but why?


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