mdg just came to my house with a tube of Pringles and told me that they've been experimenting with new ways of recording: they're in a cage full of aged cats tripping on acid and rabid foxes trying to make an authentic replica of the sound of a full orchestra on the sound chip of a ZX Spectrum. I gushed with excitement, and we ate the Pringles while watching old episodes of David Lynch's "On The Air" till late in the night, at which time he said he had to go back to his homeplanet. I cried for a while at his having to leave, but knew that he had to protect his homeplanet from the invaders. Then I noticed he blocked my toilet.
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