metropolis

No, not the classic Fritz Lang movie from 1927 (worth a watch, in my humble) bu the record store in Neutral Bay. I'm sure I've mentioned the place before, but then in happier days when it was not holding a closing down sale. Metropolis is one of those rare places that has been free from the lowest common denominator commercial crap that I've come to associate with most record stores. Not too many of the small independents left here on the north side and the city is all Virgin Megastore, JB HiFi and HMV. I'll have to go hunting a new place to visit when I want to buy some music I know nothing about.

For the record, if you'll pardon the pun, I got best of albums from the Smiths about bloody time too), Marilyn Manson, the art-house music by numbers indie rock opera The Black parade from My Chemical Romance and tomorrow, when I go back to get the CD that did not make it into the case, I'll also have my first Tool album, Aenema.

Squeamish new of the day. Sal came home to find Rumpole, who recently had his luxating patellas operated upon, had managed to open his stitches right back to the bone. He was, of course, fine. Sal, on the other hand, became a blubbering mess, which, naturally, he picked up upon and apparently looked very sheepish as she rushed him back to the vet where he'll be staying tonight. Poor little tacker. Rowlf seems to be missing him, which is a shame, but a blessing in disguise as he has been rather more calm than we have come to expect of this big lump.

Right, off to the airport to collect bro and ruth...