I once ran a Cream album through an industrial dishwasher because the person in the school kitchen, where we had a record player, played it all morning, every morning, the record was in poor condition, and we were all sick of it. (I went through boarding school on a work scholarship, washing dishes.)
For some reason, changing damaged media doesn't bother me.
My ex-MiL used to burn paper trash rather than throw it away. (She had recycling pick up at her house, but never used it, as otherwise she hated sorting. I don't know why she managed to sort for the fire and not pick-up.) She'd save it and save it, then once a week or so, sit in front of the fireplace, tossing it in a piece or two at a time, to burn it up. When she was done reading one of her favorite really shoddy romances, she'd get rid of them this way. I found out by watching her toss a book into the fire. I yanked it out and stomped on it. She said, "That one was really bad, I won't be reading it again
( ... )
Were I going to do such, I'd use a thrift store record that was damaged beyond playbility. (Or, maybe, one that should never have existed. But more likely the former.)
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For some reason, changing damaged media doesn't bother me.
My ex-MiL used to burn paper trash rather than throw it away. (She had recycling pick up at her house, but never used it, as otherwise she hated sorting. I don't know why she managed to sort for the fire and not pick-up.) She'd save it and save it, then once a week or so, sit in front of the fireplace, tossing it in a piece or two at a time, to burn it up. When she was done reading one of her favorite really shoddy romances, she'd get rid of them this way. I found out by watching her toss a book into the fire. I yanked it out and stomped on it. She said, "That one was really bad, I won't be reading it again ( ... )
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