Testing, testing.
The DNB discovers a treasure!
It's a directional mic he hasn't used for at least 10 years.
His face lights up, and I can see the wheels turning. I have learned that this is NOT A GOOD THING. He disappears into the basement.
He reappears several minutes later, the Buds' e-collar attached to one end of the mic, and a pair of giant headphones attached to the other. He wanders around the house, listening intently.
I lean toward the contraption. "If you think this isn't going on the blog, you're a complete retard instead of just borderline," I tell him.
He waves the parabolic mic in a different direction.
"Wait, say that again. This thing may not be directional."
It's a directional mic he hasn't used for at least 10 years.
His face lights up, and I can see the wheels turning. I have learned that this is NOT A GOOD THING. He disappears into the basement.
He reappears several minutes later, the Buds' e-collar attached to one end of the mic, and a pair of giant headphones attached to the other. He wanders around the house, listening intently.
I lean toward the contraption. "If you think this isn't going on the blog, you're a complete retard instead of just borderline," I tell him.
He waves the parabolic mic in a different direction.
"Wait, say that again. This thing may not be directional."
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