Sinister: because I'm WORTH it!

[Ian Anscombe]

Hello darlings,

You know, yesterday I had a really good idea for what I was going to 
write if I posted to Sinister.  It was such a good idea.  Orange, it 
was.  I put it in a box under the sofa, where marauding Vikings 
wouldn't find it.  Unfortunately, marauding Vikings must be more 
perceptive than I thought, because I can't find it today.

But I wanted to say hello.  So, hello.

Just a post, then.  No gimmicks.  Is that possible?

Today, I was feeling bored, so I disguised myself as a GIANT BANANA 
and snuck into 80s pop sensation ALISON MOYET's house.  She is so 
elegant at home.  She lounges around all day, on a delightful 
chaise-longue, and sips cocktails that are so sophisticated they don't 
even have NAMES yet.  She even has a SERVANT to pick her nose.

I left, though.  Got pissed off with her, and her sophistication.  It 
was FUCKING BORING.  Who wants to see an 80s pop sensation lounging 
around, crooning "love-letters" to herself all day as she swanks her 
way through a cosmopolitan-yet-tasteful record collection when you can 
go home, wank, and stare at the wall?  I think Dimitra Daisy once said 
that..

Well, of course that's all a lie.  Dimitra Daisy would NEVER say 
something like that.  She'd be more likely to say "music is like the 
beautiful flower of the universe, it feeds on the nourishment of our 
minds, and makes our head a pretty garden".  Yes, I can definitely 
imagine Dimitra saying that.
And the bit about Alison Moyet was a lie too.  I got bored of stalking 
her years ago.  She's not so posh, really.  In fact, last time I saw 
her, she was slumped outside Woolies with a bag of chips, an old copy 
of Take a Break and a plastic bag full of string, swigging something 
white and cider-ish, and screaming "you took your time to come back 
this time, the grass has grown under your feet" to anyone that would 
listen.  I gave her a tic-tac, telling her it was only 3 calories, and 
3 hours of freshness, but she didn't seem to appreciate the beauty of 
that.

So - what WAS I going to say?  Oh, there was some clever stuff, but 
that's for another post.  In slightly different news, there was a very 
good turnout at the SINISTER TALLINN PICNIC, an event which set the 
standard frighteningly high for picnics to come... I'm not going to 
say any more than that, except that there are lovely listees in 
Northern climes, and it was very nice to meet them..

Also, some people have POSTED on the list, and they weren't talking 
about CLUB NIGHTS or anything!  Well, some of them were, but they 
cleverly snuck it in among other things..  Jo Perry talked about 
finding B&S as friends again, and as I read it, I was listening to 
Tigermilk, and thinking how old, and familiar, and warming those songs 
sounded, songs that once sounded new, and exciting, and yet still 
strangely familiar.  I guess this is where I put some sort of barb 
about how they now feel more like the New Tall (and cold) Elegant Rich 
Kids than the familiar shy outsiders.  It makes me wonder whether they 
were celebrating the awkwardness and shyness and t***ness, like I once 
thought.  And whether I still celebrate awkwardness and shyness, or 
whether I'd rather be an elegant rich kid too.

Dimitra talked about where Sinister has taken us.. well, its true, 
isn't it?  I've burbled on about this at length. There's so many 
branches I've followed as a result.  I wonder if some sort of ROCK 
FAMILY TREE would be exciting.  Possibly not.

Ken's club night sounded blooming wonderful, and made me wish I'd been 
able to go.  Are you doing any more, Ken?  Also, I would like to hear 
more tales of your blooming relationship with Faith, do share.  Stacey 
talked about loads of interesting charity stuff and made me wish I was 
more organised to actually do something.  Except I'm not, right now. 
But if YOU want to organise an indie-schmindie night in Birmingham, 
that'd be nice.  Are any of you out there from Birmingham these days? 
Remember the BIRMINGHAM SINISTER MASSIV?  No?  Nor do I.

Finally, Gayle Anderson posted LOADS.  Which is good, because somebody 
should.  And there was one called "I Am The Fucking Best". 
Unfortunately, she didn't say what she was best at, so I think we 
should have a COMPETITION to guess what it might be.  I think it 
involves licking the back of stamps to just the right level of 
moisture, so they adhere without being overly sloppy and peeling at 
the edges.  Which is a great talent to have, isn't it?

Equally, I suppose, I have proclaimed that I'm worth it, and haven't 
said what I'm worth.  I don't know, really.  Hopefully something. 
More than a bag of sprouts, maybe.  Possibly three bags, even. 
Hopefully more than some manky make-up that is tested on animals:
http://www.liberation-mag.org.uk/loreal2.htm
http://www.naturewatch.org/shoppingguide/loreal_facts.asp

and how nice it is that they now own the Body Shop.  Cruelty without 
Beauty, for sure.


This e-mail might not be worth much.  Then again, it might be worth 
something.  You decide.  Perhaps even reply, that'd be FAR OUT.

I'd like to finish with some rude thoughts, because I have been 
talking to certain listees about rudeness lately, and I know how they 
like it.

COCKS, COCK, COCK, COCKING
one day, a tiny priest, felching Sir Robin Day in an elevator
spandex*
rah, rah, Rasputin, LOVER OF THE RUSSIAN QUEEN!!  It was a shame how 
he carried on.
Whispering "sluts" to birds.

Thank you to the rude person who inspired some of the above.

Have a lovely day, children.  Smile at someone you don't know.  Hug 
someone you do.

xx
Ian




*yeah, yeah, I know, but it SOUNDS LIKE it should be rude.



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