Sitting on my hard-drive now, taking up 17.5 gigabytes of memory, are 5,000 odd mp3s. My brother (who will be moving out of the house this summer) copied all of his (hundreds of) CDs onto his computer and I've spent the past little while copying them over our little home network.

I love music. A lot. My tastes and my brother's are pretty much identical and rather eclectic. I now have everything from The Beatles to Brahms, from the complete works of Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and The Dears to various one hit wonders from the beloved 80s, from the Oh Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack to Dimitri From Paris and Kid Koala to the Pogues to...

Forgive my gushing, but this collection of music at my fingertips, combined with these speakers, will be keeping me in bliss for the foreseeable future.

And now for something completely different:
There's a nudist colony for communists, and two old men are sitting on the front porch. One asks the other "Say, old chap, have you read Marx?" The other replies "Yes, I think it's the wicker furniture."