The 'El seemed a touch cross about our nonconsensual "sanitizing" of his record collection - hey, we would have asked you, blondie, but you weren't home, and since you live alone there was no one to leave a note with, and also maybe we shouldn't have keys, hmm? - but just as Lil' Copenhagen refuses to swallow the semen of meat-eaters, so too do I with that of people who willingly expose themselves to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. No way. Perhaps we could've let him keep the Queens of the Stone Age, but the Cypress Hill positively screamed for chucking. I thought but did not say "They're really good MCs skillz-wise though", because I did not want the Who The Fuck is Standing Next to Me? look.

Actually The 'El should thank me, since had Copenhagen been alone he'd have no post-'86 Metallica. I grabbed his wrist and said "You're going too fucken far now! Some of us really need access to 'Sad But True'!" Copes mulled this at beard-tugging length, then ruled. "Kid can keep it, except for Load, Reload and St. Anger, but only for practicing to if he's away from the kit for a while." This actually makes elegant sense, since Mr. Ulrich's drumming is so plodding and pedestrian it's for warmups only. It's like a hamstring stretch for a lead singer, perhaps. I'll ask Davey what he thinks next time we bump hands reaching for vegan mousse at Whole Foods OAK-LAND. No frontman's hamstrings are more limber, you know.