Sinister: Not so Hasty now

[Paulo Stinsoni]

Oh hello there,

Hope everything is groovin' like my bum grooves to "Dirty Dream".  I really 
do.

I thought I'd compile a list of 20 things that do absolutely nothing for me, 
but after 1 I couldn't be bothered.

1) er... boring stuff

So instead I'll tell you all about Hastings.

I know, in comparison to chopping up my chopper, it's a bit boring, but I'm 
sure it's going to be just as painful.  You see, I am VISITING THE INLAWS 
(to be).

I've put it off for a long time, mainly because it's just so far away from 
me, in Darlington.  The lovely Theresa Lovely (if you split that up a bit 
and stick an apostrophe in the right place you get "There's a lovely") wants 
me to go there as we're getting married and i should meet her ma.

<dreamy looking back in the past wibbly screen thing>

I don't like girlfriends parents.  I have an ex girlfriend (oh yes, I'm not 
just popular now, I've been popular for ages) and she (Debi) was pregnant.  
Debi had to go to hospital overnight for some tests as she was getting 
pains.  Unfortunately her mother turned up while I was the only one in the 
house.  Debi was due back, but we didn't know when.

Well, I offered a cup of tea or coffee, and she declined.  We sat opposite 
the coffee table to each other.  Saying nothing.  Silence.
.
.
.
Silence.
.
.
Total quiet.  I could hear her breathing.
.
.
.
In the end I was going crazy.  I needed to say something, and all I could 
think of doing was playing a game of cards/draughts/chess, or something.  I 
thought it through.  If I offered a game, would she think I was mad?
I mulled it over, and you know that theory that if youy repeat things 3 
times they become true, well that's what my brain was doing during the 
painful silence

"Would you like to play a game?" I said.  As soon as I openend my mouth I 
knew it sounded wierd.

She said no, looked shocked and shortly after she left.  So it wasn't all 
bad.

/<dreamy looking back in the past wibbly screen thing>

Let's get back to Hastings...

So, when I'm not toying with the edge of the table cloth, and beads of 
nervous sweat are not forming on my brow, and I'm not wracking my brains to 
think of something to say other than "That Harold chap had it bad down here 
in 1066 didn't he?" I think I'll go out.

Anyone know of any places in Hastings to go?

Just think, you could have skipped the whole damned email until you got to 
that sentence.

Ah well,

Let's hope you all have a lovely Midsummers day, and party all night and 
watch the sunrise with someone you love.

Paul

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