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Article from 8 years ago -


One Goat, on Account

To the Editor:

I had the great pleasure of reading your unsolicited critique of the "Ch-Check It Out" music video ["Licensed to Stand Still" by Stephanie Zacharek, May 16]. It took some time to get to me, as it had to be curried (sp?) on goatback through the fjords of my homeland, the Oppenzell. And in the process the goat died, and then I had to give the mailman one of my goats, so remember, you owe me a goat.

Anyway, that video is big time good. Pauline Kael is spinning over in her grave. My film technique is clearly too advanced for your small way of looking at it. Someday you will be yelling out to the streets below your windows: "He is the chancellor of all the big ones! I love his genius! I am the most his close personal friend!"

You journalists are ever lying. I remember people like you laughing at me at the university, and now they are all eating off of my feet. You make this same unkind laughter at the Jerry Lewis for his Das Verruckte Professor and now look, he is respected as a French-clown. And you so-call New York Times smarties are giving love to the U2 because they are dressing as the Amish and singing songs about America? (Must I dress as the Leprechaun to sing songs about Ireland so that you will love me? You know the point I make here is true!)

In concluding, "Ch-Check It Out" is the always best music film and you will be realizing this too far passing. As ever I now wrap my dead goat carcass in the soiled New York Times — and you are not forgetting to buy me a replacement! Please send that one more goat to me now!



The writer, whose real name is Adam Yauch, is a member of the Beastie Boys. He directs their music videos under the pseudonym Nathanial Hornblower.
Post Fri May 04, 2012 1:39 pm
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Bring that Beat Back

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If I know anything it's just how devastated Mike and Adam must be. Such a family. They must be losing it. They always stuck together even when others tried to separate them. It took fucking cancer.
Post Fri May 04, 2012 1:40 pm
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Sage Francis wrote:
I think it's also important to note that MCA is one of the only figures in hiphop to acknowledge moral mistakes he made in the past while trying to correct them as he moved forward. Have you ever seen a legendary musician apologize to females for the negative bullshit they spit on record? Ever? This guy did and he kept it moving.
This, so much.


I can only imagine how devastated those guys are right now. They were best friends for so long.
And this. fuck.
Post Fri May 04, 2012 3:02 pm
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Does this also mean the death of Nathaniel Hornblower? Man, I hope they pull a Tony Clifton/Andy Kaufman stunt. That'd be dope.
Post Fri May 04, 2012 4:15 pm
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I first met Adam Yauch in 1982, in Brooklyn, when I was fifteen. I was sitting on the red steps in the lobby of St. Ann’s, where I was a sophomore in high school. His bandmate, Michael Diamond, was a grade ahead of me. Occasionally Mike and I would talk about records and argue. We talked about doing a newsletter, but that was also just talk. His hardcore band, the Beastie Boys, was getting bigger in the very small pond of downtown Manhattan. (In the nineteen-eighties, folks didn’t play rock music in Brooklyn. You had to go to “The City” for that.) The Beasties had managed to open for the Bad Brains, which was about the best thing that could happen to a young punk in 1982. People sometimes made fun of the Beasties for not being real or hard enough or some other imaginary variable. I only heard Mike complain once, about their name being spelled as Beasty Boys, because it sounded like a pet food store.

Yauch walked up, into the lobby, wearing a dark trenchcoat, even though it was sunny out. He came up the steps slowly and asked me, in an impossibly low voice, “You seen Mike?” I hadn’t. He left.

The last time I saw Adam Yauch was in the early aughts, in a Lower Manhattan playground. He was walking under a rope spiderweb, holding his daughter’s hand as she pointed at things. My two boys, roughly the same age, were jockeying for positions on a maddening bicycle-powered carousel that inevitably made somebody cry for going too fast or not going fast enough. Adam’s hair was gray, mine was largely gone, and we waved to each other.

Yauch died today, at the age of forty-seven. In 2009, he was diagnosed with a cancerous tumor he described at the time, in this interview with The Stool Pigeon, as “located in the perotic gland and the neighbouring lymph node.” He fought back, ebbing and strengthening and dimming, as the disease progressed. Friends exchanged messages. “Adam’s doing O.K.” “He’s kinda tired.” Minimizing the situation by using simple language felt like the least hysterical trick you could play on yourself. Sometimes, it felt like a memory might work. “Your remember when Tom and Adam went under the bridge with that car and they almost went into the river?” Nope. Just made it worse, recalling the skinny, loopy kid who took any dare and inflated it until it was beyond foolish. The kid who would think the only problem with cancer is that it wasn’t a good enough punchline.

The ideal memorial is written from distance, a generous calculation of merit that proceeds honorably without abandoning accuracy. I have to apologize right now for being unable to give you that—Adam Yauch was a part of my childhood, an ambassador to America from our New York, which is now gone, as is he.

In the summer of 1986, I lived in Manhattan near Union Square with my first girlfriend in a duplex owned by a very trusting and foolish adult. In August of that year, my friend Tom Cushman gave me an advance cassette of “Licensed to Ill.” The liner was red letters printed on a white J-card, with either the Def Jam logo or Columbia’s or both. I was as obsessed with the fact of that cassette as the music. We knew somebody on a major label? And it was the Beastie Boys? This was a band whose 1983 single “Cooky Puss,” which is often described as the Beasties’ first “rap” single, is an extended, semi-capable funk vamp over which Mike prank calls a Carvel ice-cream store and somebody scratches a Steve Martin album (and the first Beasties E.P.), not capably. The single is about as commercial as a bag of dead spiders. It also represented the New York we grew up in, where a club like Danceteria would show loopy homemade videos on C.R.T. monitors and dance records were whatever records the d.j. decided to play while you were dancing.

But something happened to the Beasties, and New York. While we were off at college, the goofs had connected with the producer Rick Rubin. (Some Beasties momentarily attended college before deciding to drop out and accidentally change the world.) “Licensed to Ill” presented us with a can of question marks. When did they gain access to handguns? When did they start smoking angel dust? When did they start hitting girls? WHAT. (And you could just sample a Led Zeppelin record? That was O.K.?) When “Licensed to Ill” hit the world, at the end of 1986, it was like an April Fools’ joke that lasted a year. America apparently wanted to hear backward TR-808 drums and samples of Trouble Funk records. Or maybe they liked white kids rapping over loud guitars about partying. O.K.—hold on. Maybe it wasn’t a mystery. “Cooky Puss” was a joke for New York. “Licensed To Ill” was a joke for America. Or on America. It was hard to tell.

People believed that these kids meant what they said, that they were who they portrayed on TV. (Oprah did not approve, although Jello Biafra seemed to understand what the band was doing.) Rather than being perceived as the first draft of Ali G, the Beasties were taken at face value; many threads got tangled in one of hip-hop’s breakthrough moments. Rap is ridiculously profane and loopy and perfect and anybody can do it and you can use any music you want! Ok bye! And then, two years later, on “Paul’s Boutique,” they took the idea even further: maybe you could rap every word you knew over every record every made. Sure, why not. And there was still this talk of beating people with aluminum bats and other alpha-male stuff that came from who knows where. Rap had now been coded by both friends and enemies as a violent form inspired by violence, a view which these three pacifists had unwittingly helped install.

And then it all changed, and Yauch was the first to take it all back. On 1994’s “Sure Shot,” MCA pulled the plug on the characters that made them famous: “I wanna say a little something that’s long overdue, the disrespect to women has got to be through. To all the mothers and the sisters and the wives and friends, I wanna offer my love and respect to the end.” The band didn’t limit themselves to a single apology. (Popchips, you listening?) The band spent their career gently deflating their penis balloon, even taking on other bands when necessary. In 1998, the band asked The Prodigy not to play “Smack My Bitch Up” at the Reading Festival. (The band was not receptive to this input.) Yauch sent a clarifying e-mail to the NME after the event: “We are in the process of learning from our mistakes, and feel that some of the things we did in the past that we thought were a joke ended up having lasting negative effects.”

And this is the Yauch people remember: a man who could say he was sorry and not feel lessened by it; a man living within the principles of Buddhism and committed to broadening awareness of the political situation in Tibet; and a genuinely quiet person who had become more likely to make a joke at his own expense than anyone else’s. Yauch’s is one of the voices that can signify hip-hop within three syllables—rough, low, and strained. He got a lot done with that voice.

Post Sat May 05, 2012 6:46 am
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I quoted Sage's post from this thread on my tumblr, and it spread really quickly for text. 206 reposts and likes since yesterday afternoon. That perspective means something to people.
Post Sat May 05, 2012 1:23 pm
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Sage Francis
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I noticed that. Glad to see people agreeing with that perspective. I'll probably post more about it in a more official manner (rather than being tucked away on this forum), but I didn't want it to taint the general "rest in peace" narrative considering how it could easily result in some senseless bickering. MCA is the man, though. Sad, sad loss. Still can't even believe it.
Post Sat May 05, 2012 2:04 pm
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Seriously. Been listening to Hot Sauce Committee since yesterday. They still had a lot of music ahead of them.
Post Sat May 05, 2012 2:21 pm
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Sage Francis
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Fuuuuuuuuck. Great story from ?uestlove:

There’s a funny story rick rubin once told me about the first time the beastie boys met schooly d.

lemme do a quick side note. “PSK (What Does It Mean?)” came out in the fall of 1985. that song alone (and its followup “Gucci Time”) had timely influence on The Beastie Boys—from cadence to minimalist loud drums to menacing attitude. (sure, the other BBoy blueprint of influence RUN DMC were street smart. but they weren’t thugs. they were cool) Of course the dominos fell and you can EASILY hear the Beastie influence on the debut ‘NWA & The Posse’ album—which of course if you throw Public Enemy’s production in the mix their sophomore followup: Straight Outta Compton becomes a birth of a nation.

all that said……. they were clearly expecting a gangsterized caricature when meeting mr weaver from west philly. after all this is one of the first dudes to personify the “guns b****** & hoes weed & coke” with dead pan seriousness.

instead. they met a polite dude from west philly.

head scratching time.

i first met the beastie boys spring of 1987. —well kinda

my parents took me straight outta performing arts school for a couple of years in hopes of building a better future jeopardy contestant (?!) so off to city center academy i went in 84. it was a small liberal school on 17th street. 22 students taking advanced courses inside a church that also leased space to a quasi anti planned parenthood establishment.

(go head and head scratch)

we were given a solid hour off for lunch. my 70,000 records didn’t expand themselves. so i used that lunch hour (and my lunch money) to high tail it to 13th & chestnut EVERY tuesday (new albums out that day) to Sound Of Market Record Store. normally for something as monumental as me seeing recording artists i admire my normally photogenic mind can recall every detail. its a lil blurry but i “think” i ran to get the (then) new Nikki Rap & Scratch “I Go Rambo” 12 inch (philadelphians into hip hop around 40 are gasping with “OH SNAP! I REMEMBER THAT JAWN!!” thoughts)—i had routing down to a science: 15 mins to walk from 17th/Spruce to 13th/Chestnut if i was brisk about it. 15 mins to browse and have the store play me something i wasn’t up on. 15 mins to run to Space Port real quick and play a video game —but cops would dead that to cut down of kids cutting class—and another 15 to high tail it back in time for chemistry.

around 17th & walnut i saw my first ever tour bus. it was grey and blue. and like blamo right there! mike d & hurricane! it was a thrilling moment for me cause i was a longtime supporter of the group. just like fans do to me now with Organix (they always “best album ever questo!” to me letting me know how far their fandom goes. of course its not the most horrible example of my discography, but clearly its amateur hour for the roots)— anywho i chose my 3 mins with Mike to tell him i was down since arguing with my cousins their ethnicity (“The Beastie Groove” was a LONGTIME staple of Lady B’s Power 99 fm rapshow on sunday afternoon after church in 84—his quip “you just fessin man i don’t even wanna hear it you just fessin!” to their idiot engineer they were “given them long dollars” to clearly woulda had me wagering my left hand that this group was obviously born somewhere in The Heights around
190th street (go to the 2:20 mark). i mean even the up and coming latin rascals were giving their boom bastic magic with their trademark snare patches. THEY HAD TO BE PUERTO RICAN!—mike chuckled a lil somethin and hurricane gave me a “you lil dweeb” pound and i was out. that day i learned there is nothing in the world a straight up music geek could ever say to an artist that will knock that artist off their feet the same way that artist knocks us off our feet when we hear their music. as hard as we try to return the favor, we just better off with giving them dap and keeping it moving.—-damn this is a long parenthesis afterthought—but i was 16! gimme a break!)

The Beastie Boys were kind enough to spread the love to us on their second go round in 95. (86′s license to ill was brilliant albeit perceived novelty masterpiece, their followups 89′s paul’s boutique & 91′s check your head were necessary sacrifice/build destroy exercises that RARELY work in entertainment (they traded in quick fast teen bop stardom in for rebuilding a credible fan base that would prove loyal til the very end). so once again they defied the odds in 94 with ill communication and wound up back where they started from: Stadiums.

we as a group were struggling to get our bearings in america after spending 2 years in europe & abroad in the woodshed playing to empty clubs and bars. the Boys sacrifice move of “art with commerce” pretty much gave us a large fishing net to cast out and gather our future audience (most of the american fans that tell me “i was there during Organix” crew pretty much are universal in the “I’ve seen you 20 times and the 1st time was with The Beastie Boys!”)

that was my first taste in tour life in america. everything that i’ve ever learned and applied to this day started with this tour:

custom backdrops can add a sense of drama to the stage? that tour. lights are just as an important element as the music? that tour. “the opening act cannot be louder than the headliners!!!!” ha ha we heard that EVERYNIGHT. setting the musical soundtrack in the audience with a cool mix of songs or actually djn music before the show starts? that tour. quadrophonic sound and the engineer being just as important as the band itself? that tour. rider?! wait i can have a fresh box of peanut butter capn crunch AND 6 fresh bottles of dr bonner soap everynight?!?!!? that tour. record shopping in EVERY CITY?!?! that tour. you mean each member has his own tour bus?! THAT keeps the peace? that tour. wait you have a separate room to practice music in backstage?!?! that tour. this basketball court goes wherever you go?!?! that tour. you determine the dinner everynight on the rider?!? that tour. you mean this go kart racing track is gonna stay open for us after midnight when the show is over? that tour. you don’t have to do the same songs every night? like a new show every other day? that tour.

man. this was the education that has sustained me into the business i have now. my passion for sneakers? those guys. making my own custom t shirts? (I’ve made about 2000 in the past 10 years) those guys. my passion for funk records and 45s id pay $500 a record for? those guys. now I’m going through my parents basement looking for old Ebony’s from the 70s and now I’m becoming a pop culture junkie scouring the earth for soul train episodes? those guys. standing for what i politically believe in even if its not popular?

all those guys.

i was expecting the most hedonistic party all night sleep all day experience that spring of 95. all the stuff i heard? the “trim coordinators” the making out with madonna backstage madness, the switching places when the bell is rung? i mean I’m straight up….i was ready for some rowdy assholes to give me a gazillion stories id tell my kids for days. instead i got….

nice guys?

like how did the Roots become the trouble makers of the tour? (weed incident in houston, got maced in austin, “fair warning” in atlanta, almost kicked off in long island) lol yes the most responsible group in hip hop were once lil runts (really i wanna say show business, but once we get to year 30 i’ll brag about that). it took about 14 days but we soon learned that you always show up on time, you never pull a brat/diva move as opening act, and you treat people with respect. by 3rd week we were old pros.

i was constantly begging them cats to do more license/boutique selections. it was like pulling teeth to hear “paul revere” and it was more like “hold it? nah forget it” they’d laugh at my frustration city after city. then one day in st louis:

i kinda eased into a role where i lost the fanboyism and gained the “cool dude” posture that allowed me to gain more access to my heroes.

it was just the four of us. shooting some hoops in the truck storage area (a tradition for those guys before showtime) and they were already to switch up some songs in the lineup. i played the back grabbing rebounds passing it back to them kinda like a ball boy’s role for the team about to hit the court warming up.—they were a song short in the new lineup and were tryna figure out what they could muster up. so then i went for the gusto:

“how about “The New Style”? y’all aint done that in like forever.—-

there was silence….

and then…

“wait who starts it?…..

“center stage on the mic….”

“because your girlfriend is cattin….”

“ahmir what’s my line?……”

“oh yeah ‘Father To Many Married To None…..”

‘should we just do 2 verses?”

i lost it “y’all crazy?!?! the breakdown is the best part of the entire song! why do “New Style” if you don’t let all the fly “skimmers feel the beat…..mmmmmmmm drop!”

i convinced em.

they rehearsed the song like 4 times in a row acapella to an audience of me as Dave Seville meets Doug Fresh (what you thought i was gonna let them do my JAM and me not keep the beat?)

i was less geeking out about being there for a legendary moment more than i was peeking at seeing my future.

is this all what it lead up to? come out the gate rowdy and fightin’….and then gain spiritual enlightenment down the line?

the same guy who had “twin sisters in the bed” was now offering women (wives, mothers, & sisters) love and respect to the end.

and you know what? they actually made being “square” kinda cool. i know the Boys are going down in history as “first white act this” and “video pioneers that” and blah blah blah….

but id like to acknowledge that they are truly rocks most realized group. (not hip hop but all music really)

you really don’t see many audiences willing to go where their leaders take them once said audience gets comfortable with a position—i mean even the beatles imploded 5 years post spiritual enlightenment. i mean did we really expect the most thoughtful mature considerate act in music to be the same brats who gave us Licensed To Ill?

i *gasp?!?!?* like the rest of america reading Paul’s Boutique‘s four star lead review in Rolling Stone the week i graduated high school with Axl on the cover.

i was like “they made an artistic expression that THESE guys are bowing down to? no way!!!!!!!

i was head scratching.

as i do with most of these rants i type now and reflect later. I’m just going off the top of my head and seeing where it leads me.

i just wanna thank the guys for an awesome 28 year run. it was an honor paying tribute to you guys two weeks ago and we are forever enlightened.
Post Sat May 05, 2012 3:44 pm
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Sage Francis wrote:
Fuuuuuuuuck. Great story from ?uestlove:


Thanks so much for posting this. ?uestlove is talented as hell, but seems to be like the coolest person you could ever hang out with. As much of a music geek you can be, ?uest just ight out-geek you. What an awesome story.

I like his Beatles analogy.

Here is a fact: While a lot of artists go through phases, the Beastie Boys have never not been cool. Even as grey-haired dads, they are still cool.
Post Sat May 05, 2012 4:30 pm
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AdamBomb wrote:
Here is a fact: While a lot of artists go through phases, the Beastie Boys have never not been cool. Even as grey-haired dads, they are still cool.

I disagree about the cool part in regards to record sales, concert venues, etc.. When "Paul's Boutique" was released, there were a lot of little "Frankthep's" screaming that they wanted "Licensed to Ill" 2 not what they gave us. The Beasties went from from playing arenas to playing 1000 seat clubs (like in '92 playing the Troc in Philly the same night I graduated from CC and couldn't go). It took a few years and "Check Your Head" to start to make them "cool" again. But after that it just never faded. I was always impressed that they always had a lead single from each album (except for "5 Boroughs") that was incredibly fresh and better than anything out at that point.
I haven't realized until yesterday I have been an active fan of this band for 26 years or so. That just makes this more sad (and makes me realize I am getting old).
Post Sat May 05, 2012 9:47 pm
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Sage Francis
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Correct. Paul's Boutique was their brave departure from the sound that their pop/mainstream audience wanted to hear. It's an artistic masterpiece, man. Let's be serious awesome as License to Ill is, it most definitely appeals to the knucklehead/fratboy/fuckface contingent. That's not to dismiss it. LTI is still one of my favorite albums.

But I remember when Paul's Boutique came out. I was at the tape store on the DAY it was released. I was the fucking biggest Beastie's fan I ever knew. I remember eyeing the promo poster they had in the store -- wondering how in the world I could get my greasy little hands on it. One of the cashiers snatched it up before I even knew it was possible for me to do the same. I resent that shit to this day. I'm certain that this has added to my save-at-least-one-of-everything packrat/hoarding tendencies. Also, I remember the "Hey Ladies" video premiering before the album dropped, and even though that was the MOST "License to Ill"-esque jam on the album, it still seemed like a major departure...and this is when people were becoming a bit cold to the Beasties stuff. There were also the rumors that Mike D had died a year before this album dropped, so it was weird to see that being referenced that in that song/video.

Anyway, Paul's Boutique threw me for a loop. It's not what anyone expected to hear. I took to it in a major way, but all of my friends dismissed it. I found myself being the only remaining Beastie fan that I knew. I remember playing the tape for some hockey teammates of mine and they were like, "Ewwww kid...sounds like ACID music."

Fuckin' christ. Haha. I couldn't figure what the songs were called due to the way they all overlapped into one another (which ultimately became an influence on how I put together some albums of my own.) The tape had lyrics typed out, but they were all over the place and in one big block of text. I transcribed the lyrics in my notebook and did my best to make sense of what they were talking about.

Sadly, as I was a hiphop "beats only" purist by the time Check Your Head came out, I found myself drifting away from the Beasties. That album was feeling a bit too college/experimental to me, and I just wasn't feeling as close of a connection to it at the time. I'm not ashamed to admit that, but in retrospect I can say that I really enjoy and appreciate it along with the following albums.

But man...License to Ill and Paul's Boutique were definitely the most magical to me. They defined a large part of my youth, they helped shape my idea of how albums and performances should be. I wish I could have met them all. The closest I came to them is when Nasty Little Man (the PR firm that inspired the "Hello Nasty" album title) did the publicity for my Personal Journals album.

There was also the time when I made an attempt to move to NYC in 1996 and I randomly bumped into Mike D my first day there. He was getting out of a cab and I was shitting my pants.

"Hey...I just moved here from RI and I'm trying to start a rap career...any advice? Where should I go?"

As he dipped into a building he yelled, "Go to Fat Beats!"

I never got to meet the other guys though. And it's possible they wouldn't like the kind of music I make anyway so it's probably best to just enjoy them from a distance. Still bums me out that I won't be able to meet them all in person just on the off chance that they'll think I'm funny.
Post Sat May 05, 2012 10:46 pm
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Aw. I think they'd dig most of your music. Especially MCA, I'd wager.

I LOVED Check Your Head. Watcha Want is still one of my favorite songs.
Post Sat May 05, 2012 10:48 pm
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I know I'm in the minority here but I find Hello Nasty to be the most enjoyable album.

Paul's Boutique I reject to this day, no matter how revered it is, it never settled well with me.
Post Sun May 06, 2012 3:01 am
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the mean
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I've got a couple quick stories:

When the Beasties toured as Quasar I went to the show early to set up my table of records to sell. The show was at a big indoor skate park. There was a hoop there with an adjustable rim, and I ended up playing ball with them for about a half hour (in my wingtips.) They must not have brought their own court with them on that tour. It was just like screwing around with any of my friends. Dudes were completely non-pretentious and having fun. Pretty sure I dunked on MCA.

In 2007 Mrs. Mean and I were in England and some locals took us to a vegan restaurant. I was up at the counter getting seconds, and there was MCA right next to me. I left him alone.
Post Sun May 06, 2012 7:29 am
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