It's no coincidence that Lana Del Rey's Cola is fizzing in my Alpha Dogs. Smooth, bubbly, a touch of class here, and cavalier aplenty. Lana is freaking hot, and evidently, her bits taste like everyone's second favourite fizzy drink. I'll have to take her word on that. My diet, balanced on the fulcrums of monogamy and obscurity, doesn't make room for strange pussy.

And Synergistic Research's white HOT sits on my desk like a giant reefer, sometimes in states of repair, sometimes not. It is as controversial as Lana's sultry song. At Headfi, the buzzing HOT thread got Amosed. Bam! Then Sean Chan, my personal patron, passed the reefer meways with a threat:

The HOT will be your character assassination.

Dear Sean, I'm perfectly capable of assassinating myself. Please read the first paragraph of this martyrdom again. Ain't no nerd hopped up on sound science going to do me murder. I'm on the reefer. I'm hot and bothered. And HOT's 6,3mm bit leans a bit to the left. My doctor said that was perfectly normal. He said not to be worried. He said that if it was up in the morning and leaked where and when it was supposed to, everything was hunky dory.

Well, my HOT and me are two peas in a pod (though my pod is decidedly bigger).

Sean said Amos broke it. Let's not get to blaming. People are people. And Synergistic Research, people all to the last, say this: "never compromise". There's no compromise in HOT's red-hot typography. Nor its 399$ USD price. And it's go a cool feature: involuntary convertibility. Sean blames Amos for that. Again, people are people. Maybe the people that gingerly popped the top on the HOT wanted it to pop back off when I (very carefully) decoupled it from the frozen wave called the Aurender FLOW.

One thing I came away with is a strong feeling that tipped-to-the-left headphone plug enhancers should be bendy, not boner-like.

Anyways, I got to see inside. Inside are wires, glue, and glue and glue and more stuff, including some dead space. I like glue. I love the smell of the inside of the HOT. I went at it like Billy Pilgrim on a vat of syrup.

I came to the following Tuesday. The last 30 minutes of battery in my RWAK100 fizzled over a bit of Ultraviolence. And damn, Lana sounds good, too. It was totally like I was tripping. Like magic. Like nothing possible short of a glue high and the whiff of famous vagina.

Sean asked me to give a real report. Something, maybe the glue, maybe the fact that I'm not yet dead, makes me think I'll have to revisit this.

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