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Obsession of a Vinyl Crack-Whore

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  • Obsession of a Vinyl Crack-Whore

    'Ere be summit Wallace, th'Prince o' Eagles aince postit tae anovver music group. Ah guess it be mair proper readin' fer dis forum.

    Gie it a Scapa Fla! (Give it a go!)


    ................

    Do You share the music?

    Have you aspirations to host your own university/internet radio program?
    (If so, for what reason have you declined to do so?)


    Are you applying music primarily for self-centered motives, or to
    edify/impress others of similar taste?


    Do you hate it when they reissue some obscure lp just days after you finally -after searching for it since the Plioscene era - find it? Does it rankle you that now this music is available to ANYONE?
    .........

    Your in the act of seriously rotweilering the depths of an antique
    market lp crate when -at the corner of your shifty Brambellian-eye - you notice another seedy digger trawling the diggola.
    The fella slyly inches nearer. In no time he is hovering about your hunched-over shoulder, his eyes on your stash whilst fingers play at lazily flipping over some lps in an adjacent crate. (It is a position most difficult to maintain.)
    There seems to be a fine-line between yourself and this pathetic geezer.
    You fear, above all, that he will make a feeble attempt to start up a conversation, that he will begin to spew the attributes of his grand and terribly rare (and fully complete) Three Dog Night/Muppets/101 Strings collection. (His 1000 versions of '"Girl From Ipanema".)
    Worse yet, you fear his tastes are EXACTLY SYNONYMOUS with your own.

    The bald-headed recordgeek makes to open his mouth, but you cut him off, grunting with all the sang-froid you can muster, "I never disclose my source!"
    (At the very least you dont do a Bobby Hill on him by kicking him direct in the nutsack whilst screaming, "Thats my purse! I dont know you!")
    ........

    Is a month in bed with Maryanne of Gilligan's Island an attractive
    substitute for re-organizing your lp collection (by which store you
    purchased which record from?)

    Out of "altruistic motives" do you volunteer your time at the local thrift store/reuse center?

    If some calamity/ill-fortune occured and you required immediate cash to
    basically LIVE, would you actually start weeding out your collection?
    (Which would be the first to go? K-Tel records?)

    Oh! The humanity!

    .....


    These are a few of the questions the anti-social,hidebound,
    perservering vinylholic should ask himself.



    ................................................
    Regardless of what the wife may maintain, vinylmania is not a
    psychological condition. It is chemical.
    Recent research has discovered the cause is the action of vinylaseatonin on
    the pineal gland.
    The mechanism of the reaction is via nucleophylic substitution, Route One.
    Synthesis and release of the enzyme is stimulated optically by the
    "eye of Sauron" within each and every 2 oz. portion of pressed vinyl.
    (45s and 78s are a different story altogether)

    Levels of vinylaseatonin attacking the pineal rise drastically
    with:
    a/ nasal detection of basement vinyl spores (The ground floor of the
    iniquitous "record store" may smell of rat's piss alley. But still
    the unfortunate vinylhound is rutting at the gate of the Cthulhuian
    nether depths. "Er, sir," he meekly/threateningly/exploratively asks
    the snotty store clerk, "Is it alright if I check out the cellar lps?
    PLEASE!")
    b/ decreasing sex drive
    c/ increasing decline in fashion sense


    Peak levels manifest themselves when the afflicted one's body begins
    to reek due to negation of personal hygiene responsibilities. Hair begins
    to grow where normally it would not. A stoop/hunch may develop (possibly due to the eternal squatting down on heels - the strained lifting of those crates of 50s records no one in their right mind wants). Nails grow to inordinately curly, Max Schrekian lengths.Vocabulary is effected. Grunting may become evident. Insomnia goes without saying ,as does the horrific actinic gaze.

    At this point, old women in-the-know deem it prudent to bring out the necklaces of garlic and the dried chicken legs.




    One is ill-advised to pity those suffering from vinylebriation.This only breeds resentment and worse.
    More importantly, no sense in trying to rehabilitate the said unfortunate.
    Rest assured that he is impervious to reason, unpersuadable to the nth
    degree. He will just convince himself that another's attempts at
    rehabilitating him are the direct result of his not yet successfully
    finding the TRUE ideal version of "Hey Joe".

    ....

    The problem is chemical.
    To date THERE IS NO CURE.

    Leave the creature to its sad vinyl jones. To its doom.
    It be caught up in some Force beyond our combined understanding.
    There is nothing one can do to subdue the creature's appetite.
    Cease to hold any hope for the miserable thrall.

    I ask you , how can you expect to reach out to such persons who are
    DAMNED TO GO TO HELL?

  • #2
    Up the records!!!
    MODZ
    Hero No.9
    Last edited by Col Wolfe; 09-12-2009 at 10:37 PM.
    THERE MIGHT BE ANOTHER CRIPZ AT SOME POINT ITS HARD TO SAY

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