Orange County Music Blog

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Funnyman Artie Lange was once again on another unscheduled vacation this past week from his day job at the Howard Stern Show. The comedian missed all three shows last week (the gang doesn't work Fridays and last Monday was Columbus Day) and yesterday's show, but did return today.

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If the answer to that question is yes, then do you want to be in a book? Because if the answer to that question is also yes, you can. According to a MySpace bulletin posted by former Black Flag singer Ron Reyes, a book of people with Black Flag bars permanently inked on their epidermis is in the works. Here's word from Reyes himself:

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Chris Ziegler told you all about Kid Congo Powers (center) in last week's Weekly; what with his past in the Cramps and the Bad Seeds and his new album Dracula Boots with his band the Pink Monkey Birds and their experience recording in Kansas and their show tomorrow at Alex's Bar in Long Beach and all of that.

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Halloween is just around the corner and if you don't have an idea for your costume yet, then you're a slacker. I've had my mind made up since February. For those still on the fence, here's a link  to some officially licensed Elvis gear. They'll run you more than the knock-off "rock star" wigs and jumpsuits you can get virtually anywhere, but if you're not into file-sharing because it hurts the artists, then you shouldn't be buying fake Elvis crap either. Come on, his family needs the money.

Anyway, my favorite are J and O.

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forgetters (yes, lower-case "f"), a Brooklyn trio comprised of former Jawbreaker/Jets to Brazil frontman Blake Schwarzenbach, former Bitchin' bassist Caroline Paquita and former Against Me! drummer Kevin Mahon, are recording a few songs in October slated to be released for a 7-inch. No word on when said record will be available, but a new Schwarzenbach recording is always news to me.

For more forgetters news, check out this interview Schwarzenbach did with some website I'd never heard of.

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In what will hopefully become a weekly tradition, this week's Locals Only subject--Cypress and Long Beach's fab The Lyrics Game--have generously gifted us with one of the songs from their five-song EP, Home Edition. (And yeah, the picture in the Locals Only link isn't correct. Hopefully will be fixed by the time you read this!)

The song is "Pyramid," my favorite off the record, which is currently available in full on iTunes. Click on the play button to stream, and click on the little arrow there to download the track and do what you choose with it (our recommendation: listen to it). Also, don't forget about their show this Saturday at diPiazza's in Long Beach. $8. Should be a time!


Pyramid by albertxiii

Chris Victorio

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This week, as you're doing your usual perusing through the Weekly's music section, you should come across a story penned by yours truly about the scrappy upstart indie label La Chupacabra Records out of Placentia.Hanging out in front of a Starbucks in their native P-town, I sat down to discuss the finer points of starting a regional label with founders Alex Ahmadi, Tyler Jacobs ( both pictured) and Lucas Drake, resident sound engineer and keyboardist of two La Chupacabra bands: The Living Suns and My Pet Saddle.

Though you'll definitely get a feel for how this label started by a couple 18-year-olds managed to snag some of the most popular bands in Orange County and Long Beach (The Living Suns, My Pet Saddle, The Growlers, Audacity, and Gestapo Khazi), there's defintely more to learn about these guys. Hence, this little scrap of Q&A with the LA Chupacabra crew. Our afternoon conversation tackled everything from a "how to" on producing a regional aesthtic for a label to photocopying gig fliers. Check it out.

OC Weekly: Talk a little bit about what inspired you to start a record label.

 

Alex Ahmadi: Well, we're big fans of 80s underground and stuff as well as what's going on around here now. For me, and I know for Tyler a little bit, it was part of like Sub Pop indies and Touch and Go, and even as far back as Motown, all the regional labels really appealed to me. And we're from here, and we thought it would be cool for someone to do a regional label.

In less than 24 hours, 4th of July celebrations will officially be in full swing. But if you're an RX Bandits fan, you're probably busy thinking about July 8th. Only five days until the band takes the stage in front of their rabid hometown crowd at The House of Blues in Anaheim along side Dredg on the first date of their co headlining U.S. tour. The article about them (penned by yours truly) in this week's paper is still quite fresh, and if you haven't glanced at it yet, I suggest you click off this post and do so HERE.

For the rest of you, there maybe a little curiosity about the parts of my fun-filled conversation with Matt Embree and Steve Choi that didn't make it into the interview. Touching on topics ranging from their work with producer Chris Fudurich on their new album Mandala (out July 21), pictured, to insight to Embree's travels to Central and South America, there is plenty of worth-while bits that couldn't be condensed into 750 words. Though slightly edited for length and short attention spans, I'm sure you will walk away from this a little wiser, at least in regard to the band.
 

Besides being a great guy to live downstairs from, Darrin Thaves is also a darn good musician. He performs regularly as the Principal Flutist of the Northwest Sinfonietta, is an instructor at Cal State Long Beach, gives lessons in his spare time and never complains when we have to swap parking spaces.

Thaves and fellow CSULB instructor with Rena Urso-Trapani are hosting the sixth annual Long Beach Flute Institute from July 7-11. That's next week, people, so if you're interested, get on it. The camp is open to budding musicians of all ages and talents, but if you're too embarrassed to get schooled by an 8-year-old, there's the Adult Flute Day on July 11 with Dr. John Barcellona, CSULB professor of flute.

Rumor has it the week will be filled with performance classes, orchestral techniques, a piccolo workshop and recitals.

Tuition for children is $375 and $125 for adults.

For more info, call Rena at (562) 537-7810 or email rmurso2@aol.com. And tell Darrin I said hi.

I was on the treadmill last night when Rocket from the Crypt's "Summer Survivor" came on the ol' iPod. It's an upbeat ditty that appears to be about people taking over San Diego beaches. Some of my favorite lines include "wet t-shirt/in piss/sun block/with shit I don't care," "bougeouis vikings/dead by noon" and "tastes filling/less great/fake tits/as bait."

Anyway, the tune got me thinking that summer is officially here. Each year around this time, I go through a few rituals that usually announce the season, but for some reason, it hadn't dawned on me until last night.

For starters, I've been working on my tan. Duh. Instead of being transparently pale, now I'm just averagely white.

Secondly, my musical taste has shifted. Gone is the spring's cool jazz, hip-hop and Elvis (spring is the re-birth and there's no better way to be re-born than the King) and its its place is lots of the Beach Boys (all eras, not just the surf stuff), early Marvin Gaye (I've never heard anyone else say this, but early Marvin Gaye is the soundtrack to the summer) and plenty of KKJZ's blues shows on the weekends when I'm in my garden drinking beer and playing in the dirt.

Finally, and this has nothing to do with music, but I've been seeing lots of females wearing less and less. Each time I see one, I wonder what the hell I'm doing with a girlfriend. Then I know it's summer.

Weezer just announced a merch deal with Snuggie. Yes, Snuggie, that thing on tv that you (and I) laugh at until you actually try one and realize it's the best invention ever.

 

The contraption is called a Wuggie, and is basically a regular Snuggie with a Weezer logo. I'd be shittin' all over this if I didn't own a Snuggie. Seriously folks, I don't get paid to tell you this so you know I'm speaking the truth when I say that Snuggies freakin' rule.

 

One thing Snuggies don't mention in their ads (but should) is how much the robe/blanket hybrid makes people feel like a Jedi. I ain't lying when I say I am Obi-Wanfucking Kanobi when I rock my blue Snuggie with the hood on. Sometimes I sit on my couch and when my girlfriend passes by, I wave my hand and say, "you aren't too tired for intercourse tonight."

 

The soon-to-be issued Wuggies should go perfect for that Sept. 17 date Weezer has at the Irvine Enorma-Dome with Blink-182.  

No, that's new nu-metal, but new, as in not old.

Anyway, Richard Christy, famed metal drummer and the dude who does all sorts of gay shit on the Howard Stern Show, has put together an all-star metal group. I'd tell you all about it, but just read this.

"Metal Blade Records is proud to announce the signing of Richard Christy's new project, Charred Walls of the Damned! This newly formed outfit features some of the most talented musicians in metal. Their collective experience is colossal and their musical pedigrees speak louder than any verbal or written praise.

If you read my story on Instagon's 500th show (and I know you did), you know that Instagon head honcho Lob plans on bringing a slew of guests to play with him. I hate to spoil the surprise, but Lob sent out an email with a list of people he expects to take the stage. And because I'm either a nice guy or a meanie who tells children there's no Santa Claus, here's that info.

"scheduled to appear AS Instagon 500:

Lob - lead bass, vocals
Cary Pealer (punk as a doornail) - drums, percussion
Sean Campeau (Wackee's Clubhouse) - guitar
Robert Fisher (Gospel Swamp Blues Band) - guitar
Chris McKinny (Gospel Swamp Blues Band) - keyboards, sax
Thad Matson (Utter Pratish.
, Truck Bitch) - vocals
Scott Heustis (Whirlaway Music) - guitar
Zack Olson (the Taint) - theremin
William Harrington (UEM) - Sax
Mark Soden (Phog Masheeen) - trumpet
Greg Ginn (Texas Currogators) - guitar
Bobby Banclari (Texas Currogators) - mandolin
Jim Kaa (The Crowd) - guitar
Dan Kaufman (Mindrot, Eyes of Fire, Destroy Judas) - guitar
Rikk Agnew (Poop, Adolescents, Christian Death) - guitar
Gary Piazza (Incredible Sheep Shrinking Invention) - guitar
Charles Ardinger (fraud) - words
Chad E.Williams (Garage Jazz Architects) - guitar
Jess Coble - ????

others ? perhaps.. who knows.. its so exciting and unknown.. the mystery of it all.. ..the deamon rises its head... sees its shadow.. and unleashes the rock n garage jazz in the waking of its aeon... dont miss out.. this will be an event unlike any before or after it..."

 

To boring people, April 20 means two things: the anniversary of the Columbine massacre or Hitler's birthday. To stoners, it's something way cooler.

Because stoners can't agree on anything other than, yes, they should smoke another bowl, the origins of 4/20 vary. Some say it's police code. Some say it has something to do with the Bible. But again, like only stoners can, they overlook the past and keep their eyes on the prize, ie getting stoned.

Now, I have something to admit. This 4/20 will be the first in many years that I won't be partaking in the ceremonial activities. This really sucks because I don't like Christmas, I think New Year's Eve is amateur night and I don't eat Easter chocolate because I'm a vegan. For years, 4/20 was all I had in the ways of holiday participation.

Thanks to a somewhat minor (or major depending on who you ask) health issue, I can't get high anymore. It's for the better in all sorts of ways, but giving up anything is always an easier pill to swallow when it's voluntary and not mandatory.

That said, I can recommend some good tunes to crank (or play at a reasonably low volume) for all those sure to be calling in sick today.

For starters, you can't go wrong with Cypress Hill. I mean, weed is basically priority No. 1. With songs such as "Hits from the Bong," "I Wanna Get High" and "Legalize It," you can't go wrong with Cypress Hill.

Louis Armstrong promoted weed on his 1928 tune "Muggles." My math sucks, this is way before it became cool in the '60s.

Dr. Dre's first solo disc is called The Chronic. Need I say more?

The record that got me to move from Minor Threat straight edge kid to puff puff passing stoner was Snoop Dogg's Doggystyle. I mean, tha Doggfather's hitting a j on the back album cover. Literally, a life-changing record.

Any Jimi Hendrix will do, but I really dig when he says, "are you experienced?" He could be talking about anything, but it definitely applies to getting high.

I don't care what anyone says: The Beatles are chanting "smoke pot, smoke pot, everybody smoke pot" at the end of "I Am the Walrus."

Black Sabbath's "Sweet Leaf" is pretty much the foundation for a scene now called stoner rock. How can it not be with words like these: "you introduced me/to my mind/and left me wanting/you and your kind" and "I love you sweet leaf/though you can't hear."

Oh, I almost forgot. Any reggae will do, but Peter Tosh and Bob Marley are good places to start and finish a pot-smoking adventure.

And when you've gone through an eighth and it's time to smoke that final bowl before bed, throw on John Coltrane's A Love Supreme. When you're stoned, it just makes more sense, maaaaaan.

This list is by no means complete. I could go on for pages and still not hit them all, so I'll let you do that. Feel free to add more in the comments section.

I never made the trek to New York's CBGB, the birthplace of punk rock. But thanks to the Intranets, I can now feel like I'm in a dingy NY club when I'm really typing in a Long Beach apartment.

Click this link for a CBGB virtual tour. I suggest doing what I did: Pump the Ramones, spill some beer on your jeans, drop stinkbombs and make out with a strange girl. It's the next best thing to being there.

I've been to one Coachella and that was in 2003. Although the motive behind the hellacious trek from Long Beach to Indio was to see the first Stooges gig in nearly three decades, I ended up witnessing something way cooler than a shirtless Iggy.

Elephants.

You heard me. I saw a train of circus elephants walking in unison across the empty field behind an area where White Stripes fans were watching their beloved duo fight through sound issues that stemmed from an unforgiving desert wind.

Coachella was hyped as some special gathering where all sorts of free-spirited mumbo jumbo supposedly takes place, but a freakin' elephant parade? This was too much.

At first I was scared. I wondered what in the hell elephants were doing at a festival and took deep breaths to counter the overwhelming sense of impending doom. But after counting seven of them and realizing that the thousands of people in attendance weren't rushing for the exits, I calmed down and, for the first time all day, got really into the Coachella vibe, man.

It's not every day that a parade of elephants crosses your path (unless you work at a circus) and the sea of people, animal caravan, beautiful music and perfect desert night was not something I could keep to myself. This tingly feeling of being at one with nature needed to be shared with my girlfriend. Unfortunately, she was way more interested in Jack and Meg White than I was, but fuck the White Stripes. There were goddamn elephants!

I turned around, tapped her on the shoulder and shrugged my head left to indicate that something of epic proportion was going down. Of the countless shows I'd been to at that point in my life, nothing amounted to this. Nothing. For a brief moment, Coachella was Woodstock, Utopia and Babylon rolled into one. There was no war, no poverty, no life-threatening diseases; just bliss. But when I once again looked left, the elephants were gone.

Then I realized there weren't any elephants. It was the weed talking.

Like the Ghetto Boys, my mind was playing tricks on me.

I was by no means a marijuana novice by the time I hit the Empire Polo Club. In fact, if getting stoned was the National Basketball Association, I was a legitimate Hall of Fame candidate. But even I had to admit that I got too stoned that day.

Oh, and the Stooges? They ruled. Then we went home.

I got an email a while ago from singer/songwriter Jeff Caudill. Unfortunately, I'm just getting around to posting it now.

If you didn't know, Caudill was the singer for OC pop/punk/emo group Gameface. He's been a solo artist for a while now and, dare I say, hasn't lost a step. When he's not fronting Jeff Caudill & the Goodtimes Band, he's part of a cross-Atlantic project called Floormodel and a new band I know nothing about called Black Rattle. But if he's in  it, I'm sure it's good.

Here are some highlights of his email for those who are interested.

Ok, not really. But he is a musician and he's playing Saturday.

His name is Darrin Thaves and he's a flutist. Let me go on record right now as saying this: If you have to live within earshot of a professional musician who not only practices all day, but gives lessons in their spare time, make it a flute player. Seriously, it's like heaven above, which is ironic because he lives upstairs.

My girlfriend (sorry ladies) and I often talk about how screwed we'd be if we shared walls with  John Bonham or Slash, but the flute's another ballgame. Every blue moon Thaves asks if his playing bothers us and trust me, if it did, we'd tell him. But it doesn't. It's actually really nice and I tend to miss it when he's out of town.

So anyway, according to his bio, Thaves "has held the position of Principal Flute with the Northwest Sinfonietta and the Pacific Chamber Soloists, as well as the position of Second Flute in the Tacoma Symphony Orchestra. He has also been a featured soloist with both the Northwest Sinfonietta and the Tacoma Youth Symphony. He is the Co-Director and Founder of the NW Flute Collegium, and serves as a flute coach for the Evergreen Music Festival. He has also served as director of the Pacific Flute Ensemble and as Flute Specialist for the Tacoma Youth Symphony Association." He also serves on the applied flute faculty at Cal State Long Beach, whatever that means.

Saturday's show includes works by Bohuslav Martinu, Paul Schoenfield and Paul Taffanel. I'll be there and so should you. If anyone reading this decides to attend, come say hi. I'll be the guy who looks like he shouldn't be at a flute gig.

Come to think of it, Thaves isn't the only pro I've lived next to. Years ago I shared a bedroom wall with Reel Big Fish's Scott Klopfenstein (when he wasn't on tour, which was like four days a year), but Thaves is pretty damn talented in his own right and worthy of some attention.

The performance is at the Bob Cole Conservatory of Music at CSULB. 8 p.m. $10.

Ron Reyes -- also known as Chavo Pederast, also known as the right answer to the question "who's the best Black Flag singer?" -- has seemingly been living under a rock since bailing on the South Bay punk band more than two decades ago. Rumors swirled that Reyes moved to Vancouver, Canada, and had found God. And now, thanks to myspace.com, those rumors can be confirmed.

I don't make a habit of posting links to people's myspace pages, but this is something totally different. Reyes was -- and still is -- my favorite Black Flag singer of what was probably my favorite Black Flag era ("Jealous Again"). His vocals were potentally melodic and his performance in "The Decline of Western Civilization" used to make me jump off the couch when I was in high school.

According to his myspace page, Reyes played in a garage/glam band called Crash Bang Crush Pop after leaving Black Flag and also recorded some home demos that were never released. The player on his site has some of these songs and they're pretty good. CBCP's cover of the Stooges' "I Wanna Be Your Dog" is killer, as is a homemade tape of Reyes' lovesong for his wife called "Our Love is Perfect." 

Reyes also has a youtube site with footage from Crash Bang Crush Pop that shows his rocking really long hair.

For Black Flag fans, this is a goldmine. I don't know if ol' Chavo is interested in becoming your "friend," but his page is open to the public and he's got some never-before-seen pics worth taking a gander at. 

In case my story in this week's print edition wasn't enough for you, I was kind enough to transcribe my interview with singer/songwriter Tim Barry for your reading pleasure.

Tim's a great person to talk to and I hope you have half as much fun reading this as I did conducting the interview.

So last night I finally made it to this place called Casa Diablo. It's a strip club with an all-vegan menu and the dancers are not allowed to wear animal products. As a single vegan male alone in a city with nothing to do (and no restaurants open at 10 p.m.), I had to go.

I get in and notice a heavily-tattooed girl dancing to two dirty old men. Not unlike home, I told myself. But dancer after dancer hit the stage and the tattoo quotient kept rising and the music improved.

Unlike other places at home, there was no lame dance tunes or semi-ironic Motley Crue. One girl even shook her moneymaker to Elvis Costello's "Party Girl" before getting wild to a Cursive song whose name eludes me at the moment.

One of the dancers saw me by my loneself and chatted me up. She told me the old man deejay let the girls play their iPods, which led me to believe the girls at Casa Diablo have the best taste in music of any tittie bar in the country. Or at least of the tittie bars I've been to, which I admit, is not that many.

 

Please, Plies, come out in support of Sarah Palin

Young Jeezy's brief flirtation with John McCain on the set of Saturday Night Live aside, it's clear rappers favor Barack Obama by a wide margin in this election. (Check out this survey, for starters.) Though emcee after emcee has supported Obama with endorsement tracks, the big-ups at this point are likely doing more harm than good. Witness the negative media reaction to Ludacris's Hillary/McCain/Bush-bashing "Politics as Usual" cut, which caused the Obama campaign to distance itself from the overzealous rapper. Really, isn't there something to be said for keeping the particularly trigger-happy faction of the party under wraps, much like the right does with their lock-and-load lunatics? Those 50 Cent posters advocating John Kerry's election in 2004 certainly didn't work, and one suspects Scarface's endorsement this time around will only hurt matters. (Perhaps it's advantageous that M-1 from Dead Prez is campaigning for Cynthia McKinney, although it seems strange for members of a group advocating assassination to give an endorsement at all.)
In any case, we've selected a handful of rapper endorsements—along with some other remarkable Obama tributes—and graded them on a scale of one to five McCain heads. The more McCain mugs, the worse the damage. —Ben Westhoff

Ludacris, “Politics as Usual”

In this now-infamous track, Luda calls Hillary a bitch (or a “beh-zup” in the edited version), asks for a pardon if he's ever in prison, calls Bush mentally handicapped and says, oddly, "McCain don’t belong in any chair unless he's paralyzed." Right out of the Ben Affleck and Barbra Streisand "How to Lose Votes for Your Candidate" playbook. Damage: 5 McCain heads

Kidz In The Hall, “Work To Do”

"Work To Do" is vaguely soulful and non-threatening in a Sunday BBQ/Fuddruckers-soundtrack sort of way. While the track may not be particularly memorable, it's certainly non-offensive. (Interesting side note: a YouTube version of the "Work To Do" remix features Bun B temporarily withholding his support for Obama. "And believe me," he adds. "I got the power to move things. I can swing the vote in any state." Send that man to New Mexico!) Damage: 1 McCain head

East Coast Avengers, “Kill Bill O’Reilly”

While this track isn't technically in support of Barack Obama, it is a fairly obnoxious piece of Red-State-baiting, even taking knuckleheaded swipes at O'Reilly like "I wanna hurt you/ Immerse you in torture," whatever that means. This song—along with HYPERLINK "http://blogs.citypages.com/blotter/2008/09/hippie_double_dutch.php" \t "_blank" those hippie double dutchers protesting the RNC—is exactly the kind of stuff that rallies the right in an election year. Damage: 5 McCain heads

Nas, “Black President”

In a bit of reverse psychology, Nas samples Tupac saying, "Although it seems heaven sent/ We ain't ready to have a black president." Pretty nifty! This may have the effect of causing bigots in West Virginia to vote for Obama simply to spite Nas. Damage: 1 McCain head

Barack Obama and Rick Astley, “Barack Rolled”

This viral video has surely done more for Obama's campaign than all those other songs combined. If Rick Astley would just get it over with and endorse Barack, this thing would be over. Damage: 1 McCain head

John Rich, “Raisin’ McCain”

McCain would seem to have the country redneck vote sewn up, but this lil' ditty, performed by Big & Rich's John Rich at the Republican National Convention, could actually hurt the campaign. After all, drawing parallels among the septuagenarian candidate and a fruit laxative is probably not a good idea. Damage: 1 McCain head

I'm sure by now that most of you who read this are aware our editor-in-chief, Will Swaim, has resigned. What you may not be aware of, however, is our boss's penchant for singing—constantly. Seriously. Dude sings more than Rebecca Schoenkopf does. Which is A LOT. Anyway. In memorium, I'm posting the official Will Swaim playlist. If Will owned (and could figure out how to operate) an iPod, here's what would be on it:

You'll be missed, boss.

Going on hour eight of my hangover. Nice job, Griley! Way to double fist Jack-and-Cokes until you're plastered and slobbering! (But man, the Fielding demos sure sounded awesome cranked up to eleven on the way home. Don't worry ma, I wasn't driving.)

Anyway: woke up with a giant hangover this morning and quickly banged out a crappy review of the Paul Frank party. It ended up being completely re-written for this week's upcoming issue, but I thought a few tidbits of my o.g. version might be blog-worthy:

"Roughly 10 Jack-and-Cokes, two girl kisses and one colossal fight with my boyfriend later, I'm happy to report that I'm not only alive, but I'm not even puking! But that's about it. Wolfmother? They were okay; then again, I was on round three (two-by-two) by that point, and my "Woooooooman!" impression had evidently escaped my brain and was leaping out of my mouth every 5.6 seconds. Drunk people can be such shits. Wait.

Still drunk.

Anyway: I'd hoped for the Shins, prayed for the Flaming Lips, prepared myself for Beck, but in the end Paul Frank (the company, not the man) went with Wolfmother as their Special Surprise Guest for their annual Christmas party. And that's cool. Personally, I'm not in to them, but what with the kiddie choo-choo train, midgets, photo booth, camel, fake snow, real rain, Hot Dog on a Stick gals and wait-did-I-mention the wee little midgets running around (something had to top the elephants from last year's party) there was still plenty to keep me entertained. And by entertained, I mean wasted. P.S. Who the shit throws a holiday party on a Sunday?

The Shark That Ate My Friend was there, and the Acid Girls were, too. AND DID YOU KNOW that the Acid Girls—a.k.a. DJs Isochronal and Salinger, Avalon's resident Wednesday nighters—have something like 30 gigs lined up for January and February, and only three of them are not in London or France or somewhere else only accessible with a passport? I realize you probably don't care, but you should: Jamie (Iso) and Greg (Salinger) are super nice guys who (unlike your typical Vegas or Sutra wasteoids) have an arsenal of incredible smart, self-made remixes and have long been OC's best-kept secret. Be sure to check them out while you can still afford to.

In conclusion: Jack-and-Cokes=barf (literally, I just ralphed; actual IM transcript from five seconds ago: here comes the puke again. fortunately i'm typing this from the bathroom); Wolfmother=meh; Paul Frank=your friend. And this shit excuse for a live review? =over."
Did I say tidbits? I meant the whole thing.

ALSO: Save the OC.