New Promo

Here's the new promo photo for the Wine Thieves. I sent it to Hype yesterday, so soon we should have a full fledge poster. I'll post it upon completion.

Peace,

- p.picas

Psychedelic Horror Show

I was working on this beat yesterday for Hype ... it may or may not be for 'Fuck Robots', we'll decided after he gets it. It's a cool beat. There's a rolling swagger to the groove but the samples I chopped give it a horror vibe. Anger comes through rather strongly too, but not overbearing because it still has a cess head nod to it. I'm gonna take tonight to finish it up ... at least the rough draft.

I took a majority of the samples from a French record from '80 or '83, I can't remember. The original clocked in @ somewhere around 10 minutes. It's an insane track. Organs & bass galore! There was also this static sound that seemed to be from a homemade electronic instrument ... it was nice a raw like only early 80s record could do ... and 60s & 70s, but you know what I mean. Some great vocal samples as well. Cool little side note, when you chop up a vocal sample you, for the most part, turn the original line into gibberish, but in this case the French speaking women were not singing in French ... instead they decided to scat. So, in the end the chopping I did just augmented the order of their gibberish.

In other news: It's muggy as pure shit in PA & NJ (I'm in both states on a daily basis, but I 'live' in PA) & I can't wait for some Autumn action ... best time of the year.

Anyway, peace.

- P

Short hiatus.

Yo,

the Wine Thieves are going to lay low for a short while to concentrate on selling the 'Sex & Co.' EP. We'll be working on small separate projects for the time being & I will continue to set aside beats for the next project. We'll also continue to blog here & on our individual blogs. This is only a temporary thing, nothing long term. So, hang in with us & tell your friends about 'Sex & Co.' & cop it @ www.fuzzhugger.com/thewinethieves. A $5 donation is appreciated. I love the dollar menu, but come on.

See you soon,

- Party

Also, check out:

http://www.emceehype.blogspot.com/
http://www.partypicasso.blogspot.com/

And don't forget to come back here soon for the new project.

barry gets an abortion

something's been eating at me today. and not because i'm necessarily having a moral dilemna, altho i mite be... it's more of the splinter in my finger; the shard of wood of which i am aware (it itches and gently throbs) but i go about my day as if there isn't tree in my flesh. what the hell am i talking about ?!

feline abortion. cat abortion, for the layperson.

seriously, let it sink in.. cause it's real, as real as prosthetic balls for your dog. (no, seriously, don't let your best friend lose his balls and his pride, add some prothesti-testies.) but i digress. feline abortion. cat abortion. it's been the eyelash on my lense, that proverbial sliver. i don't know if it would've bothered me if i had only read about it. i found out the hard way:

a friend of mine adopted a feral (not to be confused with sterile) cat. a wild, trailor-park-running, free-as-the-wind cat. but the cat was emaciated. so, starving and probably delusional, the cat wandered on to "barry's" porch. so barry, being the kind and generous old soul that he is, fed the cat. but if you feed a feral cat, they just keep coming back.

so the next morning, the cat (now named "karen" ...never name a stray, that's the first fell step down a slippery slope) returns, of course, for breakfast. after several days of this entire scenario on pavlovian-repeat, karen will let barry pet her while she eats. ...days, and he can pet karen even when she's not eating. she comes around just for attention.
and then, like in every other seemingly-harmless-bum story, the cat decides that she wants to move in! and barry, he's a good dude-no joke-we chill with him all the time, let's karen barge right into his life, like a red-headed psycho ex.

well, you've heard the tale before: all goes well... for a while. karen has transformed, from a gutter cat into a house-cat. she plays the part alright! ..but after a few weeks, karen starts to go stir crazy.. the wild wind is calling, the dumpster cats meow in the distance... and she's in heat. yeah, she needs a good romp, you know? some wild tomcat rapesex, you dig? don't recoil in disgust, it's natural in their order of things, you see.

so if this entire time, you've been shaking your head, like, 'yes, yes!' ...if that is you, reader, then you know what comes next: yes, karen comes back. she's sorry she had to run off like that. she's sorry she's been neglecting the food and milk that barry was putting on her table! he didn't have to take care of that bitch! she was a guttercat before she met barry. fucking ingrate, i say!
but if you're saying in your head, 'i've been there, barry-' -if you're saying, i know a good dude like barry, then you know that in this story barry is the character who could be expected to do nothing other than to take back karen. it's true, barry takes karen back into his house. he nurses her sex-starved-sex-satiated feline body back to health--yet again.
now, karen is soooo sorry. and karen is doing muchhh better. she's purrrring and rubbbbing and salivating on barry, as in, 'yes barry, you're my human! you are mine, barry!' and barry gives karen milk, gently warmed, and feline food, and tuna (fresh from the can! that's a good tuna-salad sandwich barry's giving up for that cat!) and water.

but karen still has a secret. the plot thickens: karen's pregnant! ...an on-again-off-again homeless, feral cat...a wild dumpster cat, now inpregnated by some feral, homeless alley-cat, no doubt! so what?! so, barry let's this irresponsible cat make life?! re-create!? let karen single-handedly re-overpopulize the feral kitten market?!

"she's got seven in there," the vet tells barry.

"oh god," is all barry says in response. "oh god." barry's new girlfriend squeezes barry's arm in tight, then muzzles her nose into his t-shirt. he smells of catfood and his clothes are covered in inch-long white hairs."isn't there anything," barry's girlfriend says at long-last, "ANYTHING, we can do?"

the vet looks at the young couple, and he sees so much potential, love and hope... so, he procures a card, hands it to barry's girlfriend, "i know a guy," the vet says. barry looks up at the vet from his frozen stare on the floor tile. "doctor blacops," the vet says, "works for the animal control board of pennsylvania." barry takes the card and reads: dr. blacops, animal control board of pennsylvania. and then a local phone number.

it was later that night when barry called doc blacops. a smokey-grey voice on the other end of the line, "yeah?" barry's all, "ummm..." he said he could hear doctor blacops kissing the butt of a cig in the silence. then it all came rushing out: barry recounts the whole story of he and the feral cat, the dishing of milk, the petting, the adopting into his house, the runaway, the heat, the sex-starvation, the runaway--and now, the kittens.

"uh-huh," the doc says, "and so you're calling me," he says, "cause you want to get a feline abortion.""what!? no!" barry gets defensive on instinct, then goes, "i do? i- i can get one of those?!?""well you can't," doc says, "but your slut cat can.""she can?" barry asks-says, then says, "she can."and then the fateful words, "i want a cat abortion."

now, don't get it twisted, i'm not trying to make lite of abortion. this is--obviously--only a true story, which barry told to me, and i told to you. don't rush to judge! don't go bombing the animal control board's abortion clinic, cause that's not even the organization's real name! it's just something that's been bothering me: cat abortion. and now that's it's off my chest, you're free to wrestle with the moral and ethical reprocutions.

in closing, i'm happy to report that karen is doing just fine these days--sans kittens. barry is back to the every day grind, so to speak, and he lets karen come and go as she pleases. and even when she's gone, barry leaves a bowl of milk, gently warmed, on the porch.

The Practice

I woke up insanely early Wednesday morning. It's a horrible feeling when you awake from slumber recalling a jury duty summons. But, that's what happened. So, I stumbled out of bed & hit the showers. I sped all the way to court, I think I was hoping to get pulled over so in some way I could get out of it. It didn't work, I just got there quicker. I smoked a few cigarettes before stepping inside where I had to go thru a metal detector. It went off, of course, they always do for me, but they waved their magic wands & deemed me nonthreatening.

In short, I was in the court all day. Just waiting. I talked to the person next to me for awhile, but that got old. The only fun part was telling the judge that I could not be impartial to the case due to my lack of trust in law enforcement. My number was never called again. That was the positive of the day, the negative was it was too late for me to go to Hype's for practice.

I decided to head up to Newark for the night to chill with Chuck Treble & some of his crew. I took this photo from his apartment while we all got drunk off Jack. A freestyle busted out in an instant & we all started vibin'. Treb broke out yet another new strain that just knock me off my feet. Beautiful shit. I passed out completely skunked on the couch for something like 3 hours before I woke up to head to Hype's for a 2nd try. Chuck came along for the trip, so I had plenty of blunts to chief. Leaving from Newark added another good hour to the drive, but the beats knockin' out my speakers made everything just fly by.

We rolled into Williamsport real quick to pick up Styles East. He was chillin' @ a record store near the Sheetz gas station. After he jumped in the car, we rode up 45 minutes to Wellsboro to hit up 104.5 The Buzz. Hype was waiting with DJ Stretch for a radio interview. As luck would have it, Tony Walgrins was a few towns over signing a new emcee to his stable of artists. He decided to stop by the station & rock the interview with us. Everything went great. We mostly discussed hip hop & the records hanging on the station walls. Good times. I'm pretty sure we smoked the entire time ... on air.

After the interview, we all split up. Stretch had to stay @ the station to continue his show. Chuck & East headed out to Mansfield to meet up with some girls Style's knows for a BBQ & some drinking. Hype & I headed back to his spot to practice. Tony tagged along, he wanted to hear how things were going ... being he is our manager.

We got back to Hype's & set all our shit up in the basement. We rocked thru the set a few times for Tony. Like always, he gave some constructive criticism, but we're used to it. Plus, we didn't mind hearing him yap away because we knew he was just about to leave, he just wanted a sample. After the lecture, we gave our pounds & Tony headed back to Newark ... long drive.

The two of us finished the rest of the rehearsal on our own. We worked out some kinks & ran into some problems & rocked it @ points. We both gave our practice mixed reviews ... but, it's understandable due to the fact that Hype's had his move on his mind. He's not moving far from Covington, but moving is still a bitch.

(Side note: This Sunday will be the last time Hype & I will be practicing in the JBTC Basement. More on that in this Satursday's blog.)

So, overall, the practice went fine. That seems to be the appropriate word. But we are not discouraged in the slightest. Ever band goes thru a small bump in the road. And that's all it was. Plus, the new EP is closer to being on it's way than we thought ... we're moving a lot quicker than anticipated ... more on that as well, soon.

After practice, Hype & I decided waited for Chuck & East to return from their extravaganza by rolling up a big fattie & smokin' up. We just laughed & talked about old times & old projects we've done & just life in general. Good vibe.

Chuck & East finally roll in, both with fuck hair. They obviously got laid ... the grins gave it away to. The already had a blizz rolled up & although Hype & I just chiefed, we decided to touch the sky. The four off us got RIPPED. Off our minds. Chuck leaped out of his chair & busted out 4 mics & started up Cool Edit. We must of freestyled for hours over old beats I've made, Madlib instrumentals & all kinds of shit. It was tight. But, after that ... we klonked out.

The next morning we woke up all looking like bums. Burnt out. Hungover. Dirty. The works. Of coarse, we had to do one last wake & bake before we all headed out ... so we did. I love those wake & bakes. At that point, we said our goodbyes & Styles, Chuck & myself hopped into my dented Corolla & headed back. Styles went back to Williamsport & I drove Chuck's ass all the way back to Newark before going back to my part of PA. Hard shit. Good times over all. It goes in the books.

Til next,

- Party

them irie vibes are calling

had an unbelievable recording session at the commune home studio the other day. didn't feel unbelievable at the time... just some freestyles and some manic-page-turners, jamming some rhymes together and what. baptiste blessed the commune that morning (as he does every morning) and the irie vibes must have vibrated thru-out the commune home-walls, richocheting in chaos all day long. the vibe was undeniably good, just me and ves bound within the body-warmed recording room. stuffy and hot, grimy sweaty shit. tom manned the kitched (as he often does) with a waterfall of mountain lightning and gnosh.

i had a legal notepad filled with ideas and ideas for ideas, lyrics and phrases and rhymes... it seemed like chaos (on paper). and chaos always tends towards chaos... i scrawled and squinted, lyrics in low-light situations, bedside manners cast to the wind; i wrote with a pen, an unusuality in my instantaneous, button pushing-on-command, problem-solved lifestyle. i can't remember how to cursive. not properly, anyway. that was third grade or so! my loops and dips, droops and lower-vs-upper-case intertwine and intermix in my head. instant lysdexia. i digress, but that is how they were written; carefully, organically, sloppily. and chaos always tends towards chaos. but not in the studio, or not on that day.

the pre-game looked like a triangular syphon, passing at three axi; me, treble (who had stopped by to antagonize, chill, scavage, and rhyme) and the commune's tommune, tom. syphon and circles, for one-one-one.. two and no bogarts. treble started in on some freestyles, and soon, trailing the cypher (not cyber) smoke were the rhymes, usually one-behind. "i stick siblings' silverware straight into old outlets- neon-glow eighties shit in brazen bold outfits..." laughter eruption. 'don't break the syphon!' chuck says to ves, who had materialize behind the woodshed and elbowed his way into the cicle. 'gotta get me in on that,' ves mumbles, 'i'm on the boards!'

after the session with chuck and tom, and then ves, i moved solo into the studio. just me and my shadow producer, vesuvius. i was warmed from the cicle, already rhyming and finding a cadence in my head. from clicks to wraps, in two measley hours, we managed to track five sets of vocals. the energy was high, the room stifling, and it all felt good. i'm not sure that we'll even release any of these sessions, but that's not the point. it felt good to rhyme. it felt good to manage a mess of freestyles on a mono mic, no popscreen.

i'm meeting party at the commune south tonight. we've got some rehearsals to jam over, some preparations to be made for upcoming live showups. i'm still riding that high vibe off of preceding days events, so i'm up for a long-into-the-night rap and then rap more. we'll let you know how it goes off.. catch us soon at that stop.

hy.

En Why Sea

I went to a show last night. A hip hop show in the city. Styles East & Chuck Treble performed together on stage with Bobby Baghdad on the cuts. It was a killer show. East was extremely on point & Treb had his swagger turned to 11. The crowd was sweating & bumpin' to the music. I felt a tremendous vibe in that club.

I wasn't expecting to do anything for the night. I had just finished my delicious Thai cuisine & ready to plug in the MPC when Chuck called. He asked me if I wanted to meet him in Newark @ the Colonnades before the show. I grabbed my cancer sticks & hit the road. I must of flew down 78 because I made it there in a little under an hour. I had to pick up Chuck on Market Street after he wrapped up a few sales. We hit the liquor store around the corner from his place to cop some Jack & headed up. We stopped by Andrex's spot, but he was out. So, we waited for Styles upstairs while Chuck got his pre-show drunk thing going & I puffed on some of his new shit in this crazy pomegranate flavored blunt that Tony Walgrins gave Treb as a birthday gift.

Style's showed up around 45 minutes later demanding a blunt before the performance, so I went for round #2. He was a little stressed from the drive. Apparently, he totaled a horse & buggy in Amishville on Route 54 in the Danville area of PA. The kid was alright & promised to make up a story to his father about the accident as long as East didn't mention him smoking cigarettes & sippin' on gin & juice. Laid back, ma'fuggas. The pomey blizz hit the spot. Then, it was show time. Like I said, the show was really on.

Unfortunately, Hype couldn't make it due to a promise he made to assist Reverend Jean-Baptiste Salome in the Wellsboro Fingerboarding Invitational. I heard the Rev did well despite a minor yet rare knuckle injury. DJ Stretch of the Buzz reported the incident on his radio show 'The Afternoon Stretch', stating "I now have faith in the great Universal Life Church after seeing the twist Rev. Salome took. It would have made the average, non believing fingerboarder retire on the spot. Not Salome!" I'd like to congratulate Jean-B & I hope the swelling goes down so he can get back to business. I'm gonna be paying him a visit this Wednesday when I go up to Covington for practice with Hype.

The Thieves are also appearing on Stretch's show this Wednesday with a listen to 'The Official Countdown' following. Tune in if you're in the Mansfield/Covington/Wellsboro/Williamsport, PA area.


More later,

- Party.p

Autumn Leaves.

It's almost Autumn. The best season for hip hop, in my opinion. Then, Winter. Two great follow ups to a long, hot summer. In Jersey & PA, the summer isn't my favorite.

Rehearsal's this week @ Hype's. We've had a few set backs the past few weeks, so it'll be cool to unleash some of the restlessness we've bottled up @ practice. Luckily, Chuck can still make it up, so I'll have some company on the drive ... and some unbelievable green. Treb's really excited to freestyle with me & Hype, so we're gonna get good & high & record some fucked up sessions.

Nothing else going on right now. As promised, photos will be posted of practice @ the end of the week.

Til then,

- P

Test run.

The Jazzhole. It's one of the last speak-easy clubs in Newark. Password required & everything. I was treated to this beautiful hole-in-the-wall by Chuck Treble a couple nights back. Don't let the name deceive you, it's not exclusively a jazz club. The DJ bumped some dusty jazz records, but it was classic hip hop night, so he followed the main theme of the evening with a little Sugar Hill, Kurtis Blow, Funky Four Plus One, Afrika Bambaataa, Run DMC, Beastie Boys, 2 Live Crew, Public Enemy & a slew of others.

The best part of the club is that they turn a blind eye to chiefing. Everyone was smoking bud. I got to try some of the new shit Treb's been spreading around Market Street. I was blitzed immediately. We took down the entire blunt, although I could of stopped about 3 hits in, but I wanted to touch the sky. I did.

After the blizz & few shots of Jack deep, we headed to Chuck's home studio, Killa Kush Studio. He played me a new track he recorded over a Bobby Baghdad beat. Both sounded really tight. The track was a test song for the next Wine Thieves EP that Treb will do a spot on. The beat he'll be joining Hype on hasn't been picked yet, but from the sound of things The Lost Son is ready for the main event. I'm looking forward to hearing Hype & Treb spit back and forth over one of my new jams.

More to come in the near future. Peace.

- Party.picasssssssssssssssssssso

You gots Gaslite.

Hype's booking a show @ the Gaslite this week. It's a spot in downtown Wellsboro, up by Stretch's place. It'll be the first official show for the release of the EP. He's booking it for the later part of August. We need a little time to rehearse, the distance thing requires us to naturally need extra time. I'll be heading to Covington next Sunday or Monday with Chuck Treb. He's bringing some new strain of cess his exclusive grower conjured up. "It blows minds to pieces ... way better than the Kool-Aid Kush from the Omar Pillz show." I'm amped.

We're gonna promote this show really well. We've got DJ Stretch to hook us up with on air bumps @ the Buzz. Wellsboro isn't far at all from Hype's, so we're gonna pass out a ton of flyers @ all the practices & on the day of the show. Plus, there's always Myspace to add that disconnected angle.

Check back next week for some rehearsal photos.

Livin' la Vida Loca,

- Picklebird

Isn't it Robotic, Don't ya Think?

What's up wankas,

As stated in the blog below by Hype, a radio edit of 'The Official Countdown' is being mixed. It is to be on the single for the track. The CD will consist of the EP version of the track, a radio edit, the instrumental, & the a'ccapella.

The CD will also hold 3 previously unreleased tracks from the 'Sex & Co.' sessions, which we're extremely excited about. The vocals for these 3 tracks were recently recorded @ the recording space of The Commune.

Official names for the 3 tracks will be posted soon, as will the release date for the single. As always, the CD will be available @ www.fuzzhugger.com/thewinethieves upon release. So, pick up a copy when we drop it!

Work on the next EP is still in the infant stages. I'm busting out some new beats for Hype to rip over as we speak. Its very refreshing to be working on new material. The EP has the same working title I've mentioned us having before & it looks like that 'working title' will be THE title of the EP, seeing that it fits the theme of what this project is going for. However, as previously said, I'm not going to mention the title or get into deep detail about the making of it until Hype has some of the beats in his hands & the project is 110% on its way. I look forward to blogging another Thieves work.

Until next wankas (too much BBC for me, lately),

- Picass-hole

PS. The above photos have nothing to do with anything, besides upholding tradition. Peace.

today i saw a dinosaur

today, i saw a dinosaur. i had the priveledge of joining dj stretch at the buzz radio station. i had been there before--as has party--to record radio promo spots for the wine thieves. the buzz is a rare gem, still encased in the rubble of the radio stations of yore. placards honoring their community service fit framed professionally amongst a temple of posters and show fliers honoring the classic and contemporary gods of music. gods were made here; lord zepplin, father marley, the saintly police, and the friends of the devil, the grateful dead.

i let my eyes comb the covered-walls and decorated offices of the old radio station. they own several fm frequencies, but they also still have an am band. who has am anymore? the buzz, would be the answer to the preceding. no xm or anything too sirius (pun). just am and fm around these parts. it's a personal and hallowed experience.

you learn things from the walls in the buzz. they talk. apparently, back in 2002 there was a bash at the beach with soda, beer, wine and in 95 live was on tour. somebody sent the station staff a post card at one point or another. it read, greetings from asbury park. party and i used to chill in asbury park. drank a coffee there. i hold asbury park in a special heart-shelter. half town, half bomb shelter.

we hit the two-person-capacity production room from the getgo. it was pretty straight-forward radio stuff; we used cool edit (a program with a special heart-shelter for me as well... party and i tracked a majority of our older stuff using only cool edit) to track some quick radio promos for the official countdown single radio edit. then stretch lobbed me some typical musician questions (no offense, bro), which i promptly crushed out of the park.

a good time was had by both stretch and i. he's a chill cat, so we have a lot in common off the bat. i called party after the radio session to tell him how it went: great. i felt baptised, like i had been in the presence of some dusty-webby radio divinity, and just a little of their magic rubbed off on me. radio was once universal, like the interweb, but without the annoying anonymous feedback. but radio went the way of vinyl records and rock bands, existing with king elvis and brother morrison and mary mother joplin and the dinosaurs, somewhere in the ethereal.

I Existed.

note to self:

the beautiful rain today--the dismal, grey cloud-fire of the sky and the fog that hangs heavy from it, or against it--reminds me of chem trails. not the seemingly obvious beck reference, no, the chemicals sprayed into the uppersphere by flying machines and their tamed pilots of coordinate to coordinate. it's roughly--at worst--believable. i don't have the time or the gumption to get into a full-blown, kanye-west-sized explanation of the conspiracy. that's on your watch.

my point, to self, is that we don't know what is out there... bigfoot? cougars are reclusive. when is the last time you've seen one of those felines of the mountain? ness? there's all sorts of creatures in the deep that we don't know about. ufo's? something crashed in the desert. ..but seriously.. they either exist or we own them. as in, we made them.

but i digress. i mean, forget all of that far-out, sciencey fiction. how much else is out there? quantum physics is theoretical. you can't see strings or quantum mechanics or... show me a black hole. do black holes even exist? did the dinosaurs exist? we have dino bone fragments.. and as it turns out, we put them together wrong. were dinosaurs the terrible lizards or the terrible chickens?

maybe george bush did hate black people. maybe certain terrorist acts were an inside job. how far does it go? maybe oswald was a patsy. maybe the cia? maybe the nwo (not the wrestlers)? maybe the masons? the freemasons? the reptile people? angels? devils?

does any of it matter? the truth matters. but in a general relevance to your life--does it really matter? we are all taped to a fixed age projection. you're not going to beat death. the house always wins. he who dies with the most rhymes or lines written.. you guessed it, still dies. you get one straight-thru shot, and you have to live it. enjoy it.

so, today, as the chemicals draped my whole existence, i wrapped my loving arms around the fresh air fumes; i reached my lanky arms in praise towards the toxic sun rays radiating down thru the hole in the ozone. i breathed the air in hard, sucking at the last drop, swirling the whole xxx mixture down the tubes, inflating the minor's-lungs.

then i choked and thought of the chem trails and started writing about it. but for a brief moment of my day--before the choke and after the minor's-lungs--i existed in a moment.

- hype o d

Herbal Essences

My dude called it 'Sky High', his own strain. The name's simple, but very appropriate. Everything else will most likely be pale in comparison in my herb smoking future, but I have the story to tell the grandkids one day. I can only hope that he never loses the recipe or finds himself a new apartment with bars.


In other news, Hype & I are meeting up in the famous Honey Hole this Sunday for a Wine Thieves promotional photo shoot. We have a few concepts in mind, so we'll see how things turn out. We'll be posting up the final photo sometime next week, so come back soon & peep our scruffy mugs.


Keep smokin',


- Party

The Last Time Music Had Balls.

OK, I know this is my 2nd blog of the day & it must seem like I have absolutely no life ... BUT, I need to share this with you & I forgot to mention it in the blog post just minutes ago. I'm guessing it's Mary.

Anyway, I don't have the patience or the time to really delve into this subject that could be discussed for days, so I'm going to let Wikipedia do that for me. Oh, and by the way, I sampled from this record. I won't say what songs, but I bet you can't tell. They say to NEVER sample this record because of it'd status, but I think I pulled it off. And when you get to hear it & you don't thing so ... FUCK YOU.


Now, ladies & gentlemen ... Mr. Wikiapedia!


Bitches Brew is a studio double album by jazz musician Miles Davis, released in June of 1970 on Columbia Records.[1] The album continued Davis' experimentation of electric instruments previously featured on his critically acclaimed In a Silent Way album. With the use of these instruments, such as the electric piano and guitar, Davis rejected traditional jazz rhythms in favor of a looser, rock-influenced improvisational style.

One of Davis' best-selling albums and masterpieces, Bitches Brew marked a turning point in modern jazz. Upon release, it received a mixed response, due to the album's unconventional style and revolutionary sound. Later, Bitches Brew gained recognition as one of jazz's greatest albums and a progenitor of the jazz rock genre, as well as a major influence on rock and funk musicians.[2] In 1998, Columbia Records released The Complete Bitches Brew Sessions, a four-disc box set that included the original album as well as ensuing studio sessions through February 1970.

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Recording sessions took place at Columbia's 30th Street Studio over the course of three days in August of 1969. Davis called the musicians to the recording studio on very short notice. A few pieces on Bitches Brew were rehearsed before the recording sessions, but at other times the musicians had little or no idea what they were to record. Once in the recording studio, the players were typically given only a few instructions: a tempo count, a few chords or a hint of melody, and suggestions as to mood or tone. Davis liked to work this way; he thought it forced musicians to pay close attention to one another, to their own performances, or to Davis's cues, which could change at any moment. On the quieter moments of "Bitches Brew", for example, Davis's voice is audible, giving instructions to the musicians: snapping his fingers to indicate tempo, or, in his distinctive whisper, saying, "Keep it tight" or telling individuals when to solo.

Davis composed most of the music on the album. The two important exceptions were the complex "Pharaoh's Dance" (composed by Joe Zawinul) and the ballad "Sanctuary" (composed by Wayne Shorter). The latter had been recorded as a fairly straightforward ballad early in 1968, but was given a radically different interpretation on Bitches Brew. It begins with Davis and Chick Corea improvising on the standard "I Fall in Love too Easily" before Davis plays the "Sanctuary" theme. Then, not unlike Davis's recording of Shorter's "Nefertiti" two years earlier, the horns repeat the melody over and over while the rhythm section builds up the intensity. The issued "Sanctuary" is actually two consecutive takes of the piece.

Despite his reputation as a "cool", melodic improviser, much of Davis's playing on this album is aggressive and explosive, often playing fast runs and venturing into the upper register of the trumpet. His closing solo on "Miles Runs the Voodoo Down" is particularly noteworthy in this regard. Davis did not perform on the short piece "John McLaughlin".

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Though Bitches Brew was in many ways revolutionary, perhaps its most important innovation was rhythmic. The rhythm section for this recording consists of two bassists (one playing bass guitar, the other double bass), two to three drummers, two to three electric piano players, and a percussionist, all playing at the same time.[4] As Paul Tanner, Maurice Gerow, and David Megill explain, "like rock groups, Davis gives the rhythm section a central role in the ensemble's activities. His use of such a large rhythm section offers the soloists wide but active expanses for their solos."[4]

Tanner, Gerow and Megill further explain that

"the harmonies used in this recording move very slowly and function modally rather than in a more tonal fashion typical of mainstream jazz.... The static harmonies and rhythm section's collective embellishment create a very open arena for improvisation. The musical result flows from basic rock patterns to hard bop textures, and at times, even passages that are more characteristic of free jazz."[4]

The solo voices heard most prominently on this album are the trumpet and the soprano saxophone, respectively of Miles and Wayne Shorter. Notable also is Bennie Maupin's ghostly bass clarinet, which was perhaps the first use of the instrument in jazz not heavily indebted to pioneer Eric Dolphy.

The technology of recording, analog tape, disc mastering and inherent recording time constraints (i.e., bandwidth) had, by the late sixties, expanded beyond previous limitations and sonic range for the stereo, vinyl album: Bitches Brew reflects this. In it are found long-form performances which encompass entire improvised suites with rubato sections, tempo changes or the long, slow crescendo more common to a symphonic orchestral piece or Indian raga form than the three-minute rock song. Starting in 1969, Davis' concerts included some of the material that would become Bitches Brew.[5]

-----

Bitches Brew was a turning point in modern jazz. Davis had already spearheaded two major jazz movements – cool and modal jazz – and was about to initiate another major change (the album's cover also sports the phrase "Directions In Music By Miles Davis" above the title.)

Mati Klarwein created this artwork for Bitches Brew's gate fold cover.Some critics at the time characterized this music as simply obscure and "outside", which recalls Duke Ellington's description of Davis as "the Picasso of jazz." Some jazz fans and musicians felt the album was crossing the limits, or was not jazz at all. One critic writes that "Davis drew a line in the sand that some jazz fans have never crossed, or even forgiven Davis for drawing."[6] Bob Rusch recalls, "this to me was not great Black music, but I cynically saw it as part and parcel of the commercial crap that was beginning to choke and bastardize the catalogs of such dependable companies as Blue Note and Prestige.... I hear it 'better' today because there is now so much music that is worse."[7]

On the other hand, many fans, critics, and musicians see the records as an important, vital release. In a 1997 interview, drummer Bobby Previte sums up his feelings about Bitches Brew: "Well, it was groundbreaking, for one. How much groundbreaking music do you hear now? It was music that you had that feeling you never heard quite before. It came from another place. How much music do you hear now like that?"[8] The Penguin Guide to Jazz gave Bitches Brew a four-star rating (out of four stars), describing the recording as "one of the most remarkable creative statements of the last half-century, in any artistic form. It is also profoundly flawed, a gigantic torso of burstingly noisy music that absolutely refuses to resolve itself under any recognized guise."[9] In 2003, the album was ranked number 94 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 greatest albums of all time. Along with this accolade, the album has been ranked at or near the top of several other magazines' "best albums" lists in disparate genres.[10]

Bitches Brew is often called the best-selling jazz record.[11] Such sales figures have been disputed, but it was Davis's first gold record,[12] selling more than half a million copies.[13] Kind of Blue, another groundbreaking record released eleven years prior to Bitches Brew's release, has also been cited as perhaps the best-selling jazz release.[14][15]



It's taken me 25 years to realize how ahead of his time this man was. I'm honored to have the ability to sample & reconstruct his music.


- P

Stuff to say ...

We had to postpone the session with Gumshu this week. So, the instrumentals won't be remixed as soon as we thought. No worries though. I'll be heading to Leonia in a few days to get the job done & then all is cool. But, I must say the peach blunt helped me chill a little.

Speaking of instrumentals, Hype hasn't heard any of the new beats I baked up for our next EP (who's title will STILL not be uttered until a later date). I'm really looking forward to finalizing them & letting him peep them thaaangs. Ha.



No more talk of the next EP, for now at least, we worked so hard on 'Sex & Co.' & you should definitely pick up a copy @ www.fuzzhugger.com/thewinethieves. Donations are appreciated. We gots to eat, too! Love those dollar menues.

We'll see you the next time some engaging shit happens.

Love & Peace,

- Party

Poster/Flyer & Instrumentals

We have ourselves a little poster slash flyer now, ladies & gentlemen. Hype O.D. cooked this bad boy up & I'm loving it. It's simplicity is what intrigues you. At least that's what it does for me. If you wanna give us some support, copy & paste the poster on to your varies pages, like Myspace & facefook, etc. That would be a huge help & it would be much appreciated.







Sometime this week I'm gonna be heading up to Gumshu's studio in Leonia to do the final mixes of the the 'Sex & Co.' instrumentals & a few that weren't on the EP but that we're performing live. This is crucial for our live performance. I'm really looking forward to boomy these beats out even more than they already are & rattle some venues. I don't think I'm gonna record any keyboard parts @ Gum's place, those I'll save for live. It'll be fun rocky an old ass Casio through some spacey effects. I'm also gonna use the final mixes to release the 'Sex & Co.: Instrumentals' record. Hype will be releasing the accapella record as well, both albums will be sold @ The Commune. Fuzzhugger, suckas.



See you @ a show,



Party

Rehearsal day & my POTential job @ High Times

party is on his way to our diggs (near the commune) in the wilds of pennsylvania. it's a beautiful day--which is either a blessing or a begrudged curse for a traveler setting out on a three-hour-by-car drive. i hope he takes the time to roll the windows down. air conditioning gives me a headache and a false sense of fresh, cool air.

the basement, the dugout, the diggs--call it what you want--is all but prepped. two 15-inch speakers are balanced on their posts, a 1985 yamaha synth is poised on its one-piece stand. the whole ordeal is wrapped in countless guitar cables, quarter-inch. its all there, but for party, the mpc, the 800-watt pa head, the laptop, two mics and another layer of tangled, shorted, wirey-snakey guitar cables. and one eighth-inch adapter, mustn't forget that!

even on top of the above paragraph--the prep scene--a set up for a rehearsal never goes without hitch. it becomes impossible--after years of performing and recording, and packing and lugging--to pull off anything (rehearsal or otherwise) without some sort of mishap, misgiving, misinformation, or missing part of the cog wheel.

in unrelated news, i entered a contest today. no, not a rap contest. not a battle or a sweepstakes. no, a writing contest. i did so in a bid to win a guest editor spot at high times magazine. that's right. consider it my official job application. maybe after this year i can spot writing "rapper" on my w-2... or w-4... one of my w's. i forget which. my 1500 word piece, is sci-fi short fiction. it's about a young woman tempting a young man into smoking pot. in the future. very adam and eve meets weeds meets dawson's creek. you'd love it. i just hope bobby black likes it. and jorge cervantes. and great uncle soma.

but i digress--it's rehearsal day, not writing day. so, i wait here, chilling with stretch until party arrives. should be sometime within the next hour and a half. stretch has been telling me all about the d.c. trip from his perspective. lmfao (or whatever the kids say), that's one gnarly trip we had. if you didn't catch the earlier blog, stretch watched in stitches as styles east pushed some poser out of a moving car! real.

i've got mics to gather and things to forget. it never goes off without a hitch. never.

Zip zip.

A page from 'Behind the Beat'. The random mess is a beautiful sight.

Peach Blunt

So I was smoking the weed you see above you last night in a peach Dutch. It tasted delicious. I hadn't used a peach blunt in a long while, so the flavor was divine on my buds (no pun). The taste wasn't the best part, however, it was the inspiration it gave me that I really appreciated, hence the name.

I recently bought some new records, so my creativity has been itching the past few days. The day before I cooked up a few mediocre beats, but this one got me nice. I abide by the 'Don't tell' beat makers rule, so I won't tell you which records I used, but the beat is good & smoked out. I really feel like the smoke in the air got on the records & inspired some blood shot grooves.

Looking forward to getting this & many others to Hype so he can spit some fire on them. He's been writing a lot lately, so I know it'll all be there once the beats are finished.

For those wondering, the beats I'm working on & the lyrics Hype's penning are going towards our next EP, which as said before will be the first Vol. of a few Volumes in the series. All I'm gonna say now is that it's somewhat of a concept album, not in the Dream Theater way, but there is a deep rooted concept/message to the project. We have a working title, the same working title we had the last time I mentioned a working title, but it's still in the 'womb' stages, so I don't really want to say too much. But, trust me, once it's fully in motion we'll be blogging about it probably every day.

Til the next,

- P.picas

High Protests

So, I get a phone call @ 6am this Saturday morning. I didn't even get to bed til 3 the 'night' before & I'm not the best person on that little sleep. It wasn't til I heard Chuck Treble on the other end that I really woke up. I was surprised to hear from him this early in the morning, being as he is one of the laziest people I've ever met when it comes to waking up @ a normal time, & worse of all he sounded alert, so something was off.

Turns out, there was to be a huge protest in our nation's capitol & Chuck's been waiting months for the gathering. His logic is that it's the only time a year that weed feels 100% legal since the cops can't really do much about 1,000+ people smoking in the street. I was intrigued. A few months back I had heard about the protest from Hype, but it slipped my mind while smoking trees, I suppose. Chuck really wanted to get an early start. He was so focused on punctuality that he drove from Newark to Philadelphia the night before to be further down the trail the next day. Apparently, he had to drop $100 on a hotel because his Philly connection flaked out on him. On the bright side, Chuck now has 10 new customers in the City of Brotherly Love. My man moved a whole brick in one night, that's talent.

I was out the door by 6:30. Philly's only an hour & a half from my apartment, but I got there in an hour flat somehow ... must have been speeding, who knows. I called Hype on the way & he told me he had already left for DC an hour or so ago, he was as excited as Chuck for the protest. He was just leaving from Williamsport after picking up Styles East, a PA rapper he met @ a freestyle battle in a club in Harrisburg, PA, & DJ Stretch, a radio personality we recently befriended from 104.5 The Buzz in Wellsboro, PA. He was still a good 2 & a half hours out of Philly since he got mixed up with a dickhead wigga kid who claimed to be able to 'get anything' until he was given a routine weed request, I hate that shit. So, Chuck & I decided to enjoy the city while we waited. Treb rolled up a beautiful honey blunt (where he got the honey I'll never know), which we smoked in the parking deck of the hotel parking lot he was staying at. Took almost 45 minutes to kill it. Afterwards, we took to the streets.

We chomped on some killer breakfast cheese steaks @ Geno's. It was fucking delicious. Funny that a cheese steak joint can be so famous. Not exactly sure why, I mean it's good, but it's just sliced up steak & cheese in a roll. I don't know. It was great nonetheless.

Chuck brought me to a small record store he knew of in this weird part of town. The place had an extensive collection of vinyls, even had some cassette tapes. The dude who owned the place was obsessed with Nashville Pussy posters. He didn't think much of their music, but he loved the posters. He had this one that said 'Nashville Pussy: Motorhead with Tits'. The simplest things end up being the funniest. This place was so awesome. I really wanted to buy every record in the store. Before we left, I bought me some gifts. I got a rare John Mayall record & a Hermon Hitson record & a Lloyd Barnes record for some smoked out samples & a Buzzcocks record to keep it eclectic. I was satisfied with my choices & extremely excited to chop them up & make some new beats with new material. Chuck was ecstatic about finally copping a copy of TWR Productions' 12" 'Those Who Rock/Coolin' record. He's all about those raw video game sound effects. It was like we were little kids in a candy store & we left with cavities. Good times. Great store.

An hour passed that felt like a minute. Chuck & I smoked two more blunts, but no honey this time. This weed was fantastic. I mean I could taste California. I could see mirages of those beautiful dispensaries with this shit. I know everyone thinks their girlfriend could be in an issue of Maxim, but this shit really could have been in High Times magazine. I could feel it nice & tight behind my eyeballs. Unfortunately, a security guard caught us smoking, but he agreed to keep his mouth shut if we smoked him up, which we were happy to do. This part of the story would be great if the guy wasn't a complete dickfuck. He was the Bogart poster boy & he bounced halfway through the blunt, with the blunt! Which is why we had to bust out 2nds, better than getting arrested before we were smoking herb outside the White House I guess.

... rewind just a bit, party. let me tell you this odd shit first-person style:

i'm in the car, stretch is riding shotty, and styles east hops noisily into the car. "ma fuckers!" he shouts. high-fives ensure, with me finally shutting them up with a ringy cell.7 am, the phone rings indiana jones style. it's party. i forgot to hit him up the night before about the trip to d.c. (as stretch put it, "don't assume he'll remember anything." haha!) but sure enough, party's awake and at it, and it's only seven in the am. i was pulling out of williamsport with stretch, and now styles. and now party's on the line asking if we left yet. "we're way ahead of you, picasspants!" styles shouts. he's as loud and big on the real as he is on the mic... the only cat who publicly recants 'the day he beat hype in a battle' (he didn't) whilst in the presence of yours truly. he's a first-class clown, but i can respect his frankness (if not, fallacies) a lot more than the shit these cats talk to their walls. we peace, but hang-up only after styles recounts his run-in with this dickhead 'rapper' (every one's a rapper) from williamsport:

"yo, we fuckin- we're at the W-groceries in williamsport--the home of the millionaires--and this fucking-" he rants on and on, painting the picture. it's how our crew tells stories; in segments and fragments, thots and pictures... you gotta paint the scene.

but in short, this eminem-looking cat comes limping gingerly up to me, stretch, and styles. "yo, ya'll riding dirty?" or some shit like that.

"what? stretch frowns. he's already looking for a fight, and we're not at the protest yet. stretch has a short fuse for such a mellow guy. claims he's got a "party temper."

"i cop you some shit if ya'll need," wigs says.

stretch frowns at me, i shake my head, no. styles gives us the "ah, come on guys!" look. "you got trees?" styles blurts out. i shake my head again, and stretch mutters, motherfucker.

what ensues next is how assholes get shot. or mugged. or both. the great white hope hops into the backseat of our ride. now 4-deep full, we take his directions down south street, then onto fourth.

at the command, "right here," we stop next to a bum. the bum staggers to his feet and hands styles a bag.

styles goes, "what the fuck is this shit?" i turn to see a bag of powder thrown into a bums face. it explodes like baby powder all over the man's old face. antiquing an antique bum trying to push some sort of dumby dope shit on my crew. hilarious. i screw the wheels to the tires and we're out. styles stiff-elbows slim shady out of the back door. he rolls one complete rolls before his back comes to a jarring cold-stop on the curb. the once-and-now-three passengers laugh our asses off, and stretch throws a one-finger salute out the back window.

"that's two-hundred" some-odd-bucks the bum yells!

"fuck you!" styles shouts, already a block away, "we don't do drugs, asshole!"

this is where styles' animated recollection of the non-existent bag o'trees comes to it's conclusion, the whole car-full laughing their asses off again, and now party cracking up on the other end of the line. i take the phone and tell party we'll be in Philly in a couple of hours. then, it's off to DC.

after the comic-intermission, the road-silence kicks in. everybody in my car is off somewhere else, visiting each country villa with a glance of passing house and trees. i'm thinking about prohibition. marijuana prohibition, in particular. but prohibition in general. what does any kind of prohibition mean for a "free" society? can we not control ourselves. must we be controlled by others, uncle sam like our one bastard parents? alcohol prohibition didn't work. well, it worked to create the mob, bootlegging, people like al capone. the birdman of alcatraz. so it worked, in a sense, just not the way it was supposed to. and what of cannabis? did its prohibition work? ...i don't know anybody who smokes weed. or wait--who doesn't smoke weed. well, shit, you say, that's just because you know a lot of shady cats. true, i do know them. but it's actually because "some 25 million americans have smoked marijuana in the past year" (norml.org). well, weed is a drug. and alcohol is... well, a drug. and "according to the prestigious european medical journal, the lancet, "the smoking of cannabis, even long-term, is not harmful to health. ... It would be reasonable to judge cannabis as less of a threat ... than alcohol or tobacco" (norml.org).

we knew the facts. we all had studied up for years.

so there we were, about to embark on our first cannabis journey. and not in amsterdam (we wish), and not in cali or colorado, canada or maine, or even rhode island... no we were heading to a peaceful gathering of a peaceful pipe-potting people, right smack dab in our nation's fine capitol. unbelievable!

party continues:

Hype & crew arrived @ Philly a little after 10:30am. Everyone hopped out of his car completely blasted & eyes like Christmas, so basically we were all in the same state of mind. We didn't waste much time, just a few cigarettes & a odd conversation about the career of Michael Jackson. 3 sticks deep, we decided to bounce, so Chuck, Hype, Styles, Stretch & myself got into my busted trunked Corolla & headed down to the District.

The drive was crazy, with way too many blunts to count & endless freestyles over some old, unused Wine Thieves instrumentals I keep in my car for such an occasion. 495 South was a bitch & matters got worse as the traffic creeped it's way towards Delaware. Not the best state I've ever passed through. And shit became horrific on 95 South when it became a 20 mile parking lot & we had 70 miles to be on it. It hurt, so we smoked. We finally crossed into Maryland & made a stop in Baltimore to fill up on some gas. Chuck & Styles got into a minor scuffle with some kids @ the Exxon. From what I could hear from inside the car, a group of fruity fucks were listening to Styles freestyling on his way back to the pump from the convenient store & called him out for wearing a Phillies hat, I guess these kids were serious Orioles fans. After some weird trash talk from the shitheads about baseball stats, Chuck & Styles battled 2 other kids from the original guy's crew. Chuck got a little carried away with his insults & a fight ensued. It was hilarious watching these other assholes step to Treb & East, but everyone had to split when a lady shouted out that she had called the cops. So we got our gas & beef jerky real quick & fled.

It took about 3 & a half hours to get to DC, the traffic was a joke the rest of the way down & made the trip so much longer than it needed to be. On the positive, I saw another record shop as soon as we hit the capitol. This place wasn't as interesting as the Philly store though. The selection was low & there was nowhere to listen to the records. I did however purchase my first copy of Miles Davis' 'Bitches Brew'. An obvious choice for sampling, but I just really wanted to listen to the 1969 classic that turned jazz on its ear. Plus, it would be fun to sample a record like that because I'd have to chop it so nice that it was unrecognizable, so I think I'm gonna flip this thing.

The rest of DC was pretty cool. We didn't do much site seeing, just smoked a lot of trees & headed towards the protest. Hype & I brought some copies of the 'Sex & Co.' EP & a boom box to rock it on. We met quite a few people, but I'm starting to doubt that anyone will remember too much given the situation. The whole experience was rather surreal. It was odd watching cops circle the area but make zero arrests. It took me 2 or 3 blunts to fully get used to it. And after that I still wasn't too used to it, just more paranoid. Somehow, you get past it though. It's almost as if you have the protection of this huge stoner wall surrounding you. Crazy.

The people we met down there were out of this world.

out of this world, hype seconds. in fact, hype continues, i think some of the people will remember our brief intersection of worlds at our nation's capitol. some twenty or thirty people were gathered by the ass-busted corolla at one point in high afternoon. freestyles and demo exchanges took place, friendly battles ensued that recalled a time of hip hop old... we were all free that day... free to rhyme, free to battle, free to fight (for rights and otherwise), and free to toke one across that line. it was lincoln's woodstock.

can't wait til next year!

peace to our brothers and sisters!

Robotspace

Check out the Wine Thieves on Myspace @ www.myspace.com/thewinethieves.

How do you get to Carnegie Hall?

Practice! John Practice. For some reason, whenever I hear this 100 year old saying/joke, I can't help but remember 'The Last Action Hero' & that memorable line by the Governator.

That aside, I'm going up to the Wilds once again to tweak the Wine Thieves performance with Hyper Since the Highchair. I've been doing some practicing on my own time, so I'm feeling good about this rehearsal. The 3 hour drive comes yet again, but I'm feeling it yet again. I'm ready for a good & long drive. I just hope nothing fucked up happens to my trunk again, or any part of my car for that matter (I'm knocking on my wood table, if you're wondering).

9am, Monday morning is the time I'm leaving my apartment to head for Covington. So, I'm getting an early start. We're probably gonna practice all afternoon & evening, but we have some post-EP stuff to handle too, so it's gonna be a busy day & a half. Should be fun though. Expect a full 'report' on it Tuesday night-ish.

Little side note for those interested, the one & only Chuck Treble (see many blogs below) gave me a call last night from Market St. He's dying to get on a new Thieves track. I guess he heard through the grapevine about the 'new project' the Wine Thieves are cooking up. He even knew the concept, have no clue how; maybe Stretch told him. I should have never introduced those two.

Come back soon for more on that ...

Last things last, the photo above was taken from every one's favorite information station, Wikipedia. It's a propaganda poster from 1935. This is why my grandfather feels so strongly about keeping marijuana illegal. Wacky cigarettes. Beware! This my be handed you (people?) ... is that proper English?

til the next,

- picas

Support Local Music @ The Commune

Support local music! It's a dying art & we all need to help revive it. Why not start with the Wine Thieves 'Sex & Co.' EP?! Why not pick it up @ The Commune?!

The EP has officially been released through Thomas Dalton's Fuzz Hugger website (which is the home of The Commune). You can get there by going to www.fuzzhugger.com/thecommune. You can also go straight to our page by going to www.fuzzhugger.com/thewinethieves. It's there that you can download the EP & make your donation. That's where you can do your part!

Hype & I are in the process of practicing for our 'Sex & Co' Summer & Autumn shows. But, all the practice in the world won't make you money to eat & drive to your destination, so help us out!

Also, if you want us to play by you or at a house party, e-mail us @ thewinethieves@gmail.com. We will get back to you ASAP.

Til then,

Picas

'Sex & Co.' Released

We're finally finished. The EP is out. You can cop it @ www.fuzzhugger.com/thewinethieves. Please be kind to us struggling artists & make a little donation. We need some cash for shows & day to day living, just like you. So, support local hip hop!

Special thanks goes out to Gumshu for engineering the sessions. You're the man, brother. Once we get some cash from this venture, some money is coming your way. I'm looking forward to the day that I can pay you for your services. And it will come!

Here's the final track list:

1. The Official Countdown

2. Shitty Fox

3. Powerlines

4. Back in Service (Interlude)

5. Do Drugs

6. Ode to Milosz

7. Off the Hook (Outro)

That's it. And, hey, believe it or not, Hype & I are already @ work on the next project. It's to be a 4 part series. We have a working title, but that's for another time. More on that as it develops. But, for now, enjoy a little 'Sex & Co.'

Peace, Party of the Thieves