More Than Herds

Thank Jehosifer that we're not the only ones suspicious about the timing of last night's subway alert. To stress, as well, we were super brave and took abbout three subways yesterday in our attempt to score the soundz stealing sophtware. The trip also took in a dubious place near the World Center site, which, considering what a blinkered moron your average islamofascist (the term's warming on us) is, strikes us as rather brave.

Still, have to also thank the other beardy gas-like one for us getting in OK, and for the opportunity to stare at Cutesome's neck for like fifteen minutes on the subway this morning. In a strictly platonic fashion, we might add. As long as insane vampiric bloodlust counts as platonic.

The LP deflowering gear? It is like us, it does not take a physical form. The problem is, one must establish a physical connection between the Wheel of Plastic and AluminIum and the compuder, and it was only after shelling out for a download of the despoiling software that we realised that we have the iBook of a child, one that comes without a mic input. Which will necessitate a trip to Tekserve to get an iMic. Grrr. Better get hardcore into field recordings to make this pay.

[UPDATE: So, we scored the stuff. Well, that and an Airclick. Suffice it to say, dinner parties at Casa Gringcorp will be excruciating affairs for the next few weeks. But you may experience some scatchy gems from our small 1990s vinyl collection right here soon]