Ambidextrous, It Seems
I'm a bit disappointed that my Moscode did not include a diaper. If I could make any changes to Moscode's current production, I would reinstate the diaper policy. Immediately.
All of that newfound deep bass can really shake things up. Owners are liable to have accidents of the second grade variety.
My Moscode did, however, come with a single glove. "A glove?" you ask. Yes, that's just what I said. Wonko the Sane wants to hear more about it. He wrote, "After your description of the rest of the accoutrements, I almost expect a black leather lace-up elbow length number."
Wonko's funny. And he's not too, too far off. I must have done a good job in my previous descriptions. Let me try to keep that going:
It's an SWG: Single White Glove. Ambidextrous, it seems, and covered in black PVC dots for firm and sure grip, this glove might have been made fashionable by the King of Pop had the PVC dots instead been diamonds. But diamonds cut glass, and, in this case, cutting glass would, of course, defeat the purpose. The Moscode and its accoutrements are, after all, nothing if not purposeful. Let me throw some more commas at you: Like Jimmy Edgar, girl, let my rhythm take control. In the case of the SWG, the purpose is as clear as diamond itself: it protects its wearer from burning his or her (that's right, gentleman girls can play, too) pretty little fingertips when they've decided it's time to swap some tubes.
Tubes get hot. You'll want to wear the glove. It helps. And, to my great delight, it looks good, too. Indeed, the SWG may be the exact spot in this here audiophile universe where form meets function. Under normal circumstances, I despise gloves. These hands like to be seen. I throw them about like Egon Schiele, spreading my long, thin fingers into metaphorical Vees. You know what I'm talking about. But these PVC-covered lovlies are so very different. If I had another if, that is to say, the Single White Glove were a Double White Glove I would proudly wear them out to any trashy dive bar, in order to complement, perfectly, my black sports jacket atop death metal tee.
My favorite feature? On one side, in strong black curves, the SWG announces, simply: ULINE.
ULINE, I take it, is the SWG's name. That's what I call it, at least. I cover my sensitive skin in its lovely PVC, and like another, greater, King of Pop, I say, with gusto and verve and a good bit of sass:
"ULINE, come on over and do the twist."