Sinister: Chilly; Porn; Naked; ladies

[idleberry]

Hiya, its only me...

Astrid told us that its been lovely in Stockholm. It
impressed me. I remember, back in the days of yore,
when I was out in Tromso (approx 400 miles north of
the artic circle, chilly fact fans) and how it was
starting to get sunny, but there was still a good 3
inches of snow lying on top of 2 inches of solid ice,
on the roads, while on the roadsides, it was ooh..
more and more inches of snow. Even when I left in May,
the grass was still as clear as mud, and the snow was
still laying there. Within the space of a month, it
would turn, from being a cold winterland to being
summery, with the leaves bursting out of the trees,
and flowers finally able to show their little flowery
heads, the tulips and the snowdrops within days of one
another, like summer and spring were thrown together
into a week in June. It was like Mother Nature had a
very busy calender, and thought it would be a good
idea. 

David Moore wrote about being called a turkey while
bowling. I think the worst insult I have received
(this can't be true - there must be worse) from a
computerised thingy was a chicken. And to prove its
point, it showed a picture of a chicken, just in case
I didn't know what a chicken was. That was while
bowling also. 

I was a bit of a chicken the other day though. My
laptop, that has more mood swings than I do, started
screaming at me. So I ran away, in fear of it blowing
up or something. Turned out I had the mic and the
speakers on so loud it was getting feedback. Ah.. yes.
 

I thought I'd report back on an unsinister weekend. 
I didn't do anything remotely sinister whatsoever, not
in the mailing list sense. Not unless you count porn.

Me and some pals, who I shall call Bernard and Nellie
for the sake of anonominity (I always want to spell
that as "anonyminty" although I suspect my own
spelling is wrong anyway), thought it would be a good
idea to go and sit in Borders cafe on a sunny sunday
afternoon, and indulge ourselves in watching men
looking at mens so-called lifestyle magazines. Then we
had a good idea with watching one bloke, who seemed
far too interested in some of the mags, in particular,
the pictures of naked ladies (*imagines Ken Chu
finding this post as he performs -fnar- a search for
the words "porn; naked; blow -up; ladies" in
sinister*) and we watched him walk around the store
for a bit. So my pal thought it would be a laugh to go
and set down a soft porn mag - Barefoot Beauties -
somewhere on a shelf near the P.J.O'Rourke books this
guy was looking at. Sure enough, we enjoyed a full 45
minutes of the guy looking coyly at the magazine laid
before his eyes; then picking it up (inside a copy of
a book that was much too small to disguise his true
"reading" material); rubbing himself against a
bookshelf as he did so; putting it down; going for a
wander; cooming back to the mag; picking it up;
putting it down; going for another wander while
groping around in his pocket; showing it to his pal;
and then finally investing in some titilating.. erm..
tits. Hey, what else do you do on a sunny afternoon?

It was quite amusing, playing gods of some description
or nature who get their thrills from people getting
their..erm.. thrills. 

We went out clubbing too, on Saturday night, the
traditional sabbath of the boogie generation, but
thats besides the point. 

Anyway. 

time to go.

Love 
idles
xx


=====
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/corduroysmoke/ starting playground gossip and passing notes

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