6 August 2003
Evidence of dain bramage
One-third of my freezer is given over to the sort of thing we used to call TV Dinners. I don't eat these in front of the TV, of course; I cart them off to work, one a day, so I have time to wolf down something that doesn't say "Burger King" on the packaging during the meager half-hour I get for lunch.
I was rotating the stock this evening when I noticed something highly unStoufferlike; for some reason, in the midst of all that cardboard, there was actual plastic. A tilt of the stack, and out it came: a CD I had burned late last year, in one of those half-height not-exactly-jewel boxes, a hot mix literally put on ice.
I doubt that the cover art would have put anyone off his appetite or anything, but audio products in general do not belong in the freezer. And God only knows how long it's been there: I know how it got there obviously I pulled the disc when I got back from the supermarket, dropped it into one of the sacks and then forgot about it but the last time I went grocery-shopping was last Thursday, and I didn't take this disc with me, and I'd been on the road for rather a long time before that, so the latest this could have occurred is, um, the fifth of July.
Oh, and it plays just fine. Bless you, Verbatim.
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