Instant Album Review: Sounds of Urchin, "Diamond"

During our morning discussion of There Must Be A Music Scene Around Here Somewhere, Steve started playing me some mp3s of a band he's discovered called Sound of Urchin, who are locals, it seems. Me likey. They range between sounding sort of modern-alternative and good heavy crushing rock--weirdly schizophrenic. I do not mind this in the least.

They're playing in Philadelphia with the Butthole Surfers (!!!) at the end of June, and we are going to see if we can skip out that Friday to catch the show. I don't know if I'm grown-up enough to see Gibby Haynes in all his mad glory, but I want to find out.

The postman hits! You have new mail.

So, we've been advised to declutter toot-sweet posthaste NOW NOW to get the house on the market before the summer slump. In the course of chucking things out of the front closet (so to pack winter items), I found a leather satchel with, wait for it, an IBM Thinkpad.

?!

Booting it up, it claims to be the property of a company; the admin password is nothing easily guessable, so I can't make any further notions of who it belongs to. But it's been in that closet a good while. Whose is it? Bueller? Anyone?

(Claimants must correctly identify the child's amusement item also in the satchel to have it surrendered to their care.)