Baby, I’ve been breaking glass in your room again.

Yesterday someone ended up here after searching for, “How to get Love Songs for Nihilists.” Whoever that was, if you happened to be looking for my most recent CD and you happen to see this, I shall answer. Or rather, I’ll do something I should have done long ago and put something up at the very top of the sidebar explaining where/how to get CDs. I don’t know why I didn’t do that sooner. Hopefully it’ll be of use to someone someday.

The box of CDs at Dr. Disc is happy and full once again. Here is a brief example of a bit of what happens when CDs are being put together. Multiply it by about two hundred when a new CD is being assembled, and multiply it by a little less when it’s just a matter of rebuilding stock. Copying CDs one at a time is exciting, man. I’m normally faster than this with the assembling of inserts/cases, but it’s a little awkward balancing a tripod between your legs and keeping the camera steady while simultaneously folding inserts and assembling jewel cases. You end up putting things in upside-down when you normally wouldn’t do such a thing.

I almost forgot — if anyone wants a poster, let me know. I spent quite a bit of money getting these things made up for the Mackenzie Hall show, only to end up with twenty or so extras just sitting here, wondering what their purpose in life is post-show. There’s nothing sadder than an orphaned poster. Unless it’s Ashton Kutcher’s face on an orphaned poster. But that goes without saying.

While I wasn’t sure how well I designed these posters, I have to admit they’ve grown on me, much like fungus, and I now think they’re pretty cool-looking. If you don’t mind looking at my hairy visage, you might think so too. If you or someone you know might like a poster, let me know and I will give you one or send it in the mail. They’re free to whoever wants them. Otherwise they’ll just keep sitting in the stock room until they decide to rise up and create a rebel army of orphaned posters. You can make a difference in their lives.

Cue sappy instrumental music, much like the sort of thing you hear in guilt-trip commercials designed to bilk you out of your money.

You…can give a poster a home.

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