In lights of the greatness that is The Heist, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’ new album. I thought there was not a better topic to tackle than thrift shopping.  I am going to be very honest, I really don’t enjoy thrift shopping.  I go to the thrift store mostly to find weird things to wear on theme days. But you know what, I’m ready to be as cool as my hipster friends and Macklemore, so I am going to attempt to try out the thrifting thing again.

I am going to give my fellow thrift store loathers some helpful hints to tackle the beast that is the thrift store.

1. Realize that most of everything that is in the store needs to be altered, modified or updated.  It is rare that you’ll walk in to your run of the mill thrift store and expect that everything will work for you as is. If you come I with that assumption, you won’t be as intimidated.

2. Wash the clothes. For all the people shower their thrift finds without washing them… I am judging the hell out of you. I shouldn’t even have to elaborate on why this is nasty,  but i’ll do it for that one person who wants to contest me.  Clothes carry history. Thrift store clothes carry the wear and tear, aging signs, and smells of that history. You’re now wearing and smelling like dead ancestors… If I need to explain more, I’ll just deem you as a lost cause. Stink on my friend.

3. Go in with a plan.  I say go in the store with a plan of what you’re looking for, and be open to finding other stuff. For me, thrift stores are far too overwhelming and unorganized for me to just browse.

4. Take someone who’s good at it.  Going shopping with someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing could be funny, but probably probably not productive. So bring 1 of both.

If nothing else, hopefully this helps.

Friends. I’m excited to embark on this challenge together, and hopefully we can collectively change our attitudes towards thrifting. Honestly, I just want to be as cool as Macklemore. It’s been a while since I like a dope rapper that didn’t scare the hell out of me… (Sorry Eminem).

I’ll see how this goes, and if you like, I’ll update you on how it goes.

Posted By: O.M.

@omarimcneil

Cult.ivate

Bravestation is a self-titled “apocalypse pop” band hailing from Toronto, Canada. They graced the music scene earlier year with their first LP titled Giants & Dreamers. These guys definitely give off a Yeasayer vibe, with a little more “dream poppy” element. Regardless, they’re first album is phenomenal. Check out the official music video for their track “Signs of the Civilized” below, and keep an eye on these guys. I wouldn’t be surprised if 2013 is a big year for them.

Posted By: Supersonic 

Cult.ivate

            If I knew kissing Nancy—the hottest girl in the eighth grade—would result in me getting my ass kicked, I probably would have done something equally productive, like masturbate. But when the time came to fight, I stood up with a tough guy look on my face and acted like I knew what I was doing. Within seconds I was on the ground surrounded by the roaring laughter of everyone around me.

            I made out with Nancy the week before on a field trip to a city college. Our teacher Mrs. Ledbetter said walking around a college would inspire us to go someday. I rolled my eyes with my black friend Curtis (whom everyone calls Midnight) because she should have known that Chicanos and Africans don’t go to college—not ones from our neighborhood at least. But rather than stay at school we went anyway.

On the bus, Nancy sat in front of me giggling with her friend Veronica like a hyena when they both turned around and asked me to play truth or dare. Every eighth grader knows truth and dare is meant for one thing, kissing.  I’d never kissed anyone, but I didn’t want to look like a fag so I went for the dare first and kissed Nancy just as the bus merged onto the freeway. Her spongy lips tasted like watermelon and cotton candy; they brought the joy of running through the sprinklers on a hot summer day. Those watching fixed their eyes on us: a silent reflection. When we finished our lips we were magnets pushing and pulling each other, coming together as the space between us grew greater.

*          *          *

             It’s now Friday night and I’m standing with my friends under the streetlight in front of Midnight’s house. We’re listening to big-nosed Sean, who we call Squidward, talk about how he overheard Gilbert—Nancy’s ex-boyfriend, talking shit saying he was going to jump me. His words; are x-rays shooting through me without any immediate effect. I’m too focused on the transparent beam of the streetlight; it rests on the ground like a pile of orange slices, grouping the delinquents that we are from the ghetto surrounding us.

            “You all right, Carlos?” Squidward asks me when he notices that I’ve been staring at the ground for a while.

            “Yeah, dude. Gilbert doesn’t scare me. He’s a pisa,” I say.

            Off in the distance, I hear a car alarm go off. Nearby dogs begin to bark at the sound that interrupts the evening silence.

            “Hey, Squid, is your cracker ass ready to play hide and seek?” Midnight says.

            “Chill out, Kunta Kinte,” he responds.

Every Friday night my friends and I meet under the streetlight to play hide and seek whoever is the last to arrive is “It”. The rules are simple: don’t go in anyone’s garage and stay within a block of the streetlight. Sometimes Midnight uses his racial advantage and hides in the middle of the street. Squidward trips over him once in a while, and hearing them argue about it afterwards reminds me of my Mom’s two Chihuahuas fighting over a piece of bologna.

“Okay, so who’s going to be it?” I ask. “We all got here at the same time.”

“Leland is always the first It when we play,” says Midnight. “Is he coming?”

“Damn, that guy is always late,” Squidward adds,

Leland lives down the street from me; his real name is Ethan but when we heard his mom calling him by his middle name we couldn’t resist. He hated us for about a week, didn’t talk to any of us at school. When we finally told him he was acting like a pussy, he began coming around more often.

“It’s getting late. I have to go in soon,” says Squidward.

In my neighborhood, when the sun goes down it becomes a completely different place. During the day, old Mexican women walk along the sidewalk pulling their aluminum laundry carts while carrying an umbrella to keep the sun out of their faces. Kids ride old rusting bikes they’ve outgrown down the street in search for the Paletero man with the hopes of getting ice cream or elotes for fifty cents. Black people pack themselves in one car and drive down my street in their bruised up Cadillacs, windows down, blasting nothing but bass. Sprinkled throughout the block, you’ll see a white woman wearing a tube top and shorts, watering her grass and smoking a cigarette.

My friends and I usually stay out for an hour after the sun goes down, but we all know when it’s time to go inside.

During the evening, all the blinds to the houses are closed with a soft glow behind them to remind robbers that someone is indeed home. Anyone you see walking alone is either looking for drugs or a car to break into. The homeless stutter across the street as they push their stolen grocery carts filled with recycled cans and their entire lives. The cholos y cholas lean against their low riders drinking forties and smoking mota while listening to the oldies. If a car is moving slowly, it’s either a drive by or a drug deal. In my neighborhood, there is a daylight nation and a midnight nation, sharing nothing but the same address on a map, containing two completely different worlds of people.

“Hey, guys, wait up!” Leland says while running toward the street light. “Sorry, my dad made me wash the dishes and give our dog a bath.”

Leland was the mixed raced kid—Caucasian and Mexican. He was the calmest one out of all of us who always thought things through. He enjoyed a good competition and was the second fastest kid in the eighth grade behind Midnight. When we played basketball, he acted like the entire world was on his shoulders and if he didn’t win, he would get depressed until he won at something else. Leland loved basketball so much that we called him gay for having posters of NBA players on the walls of his room. We never knew why he was so competitive.  It could have been his dad pressuring him to be the best at all times, especially when he was drunk off whiskey and had a bad day at work.

“Well, are we going to play?” asked Squidward.

When we play hide and seek, it’s just the boys and myself. There isn’t anything to worry about; the world around us slowly expires and we run around the block like kids are supposed to. For those seconds when someone counts, we tune out the world around us, hiding from the fact that we are young and living in the ghetto.

“Yeah, one quick game,” I said.

*          *          *

            Monday evening I sit at the dinner table with my younger sister, Helena, and Dad waiting to be served. The kitchen smells of fresh rice and seasoned ground beef. My mother stands barefoot in front of the stove making plates for us; she’s wearing a blue sun dress from the thrift store with sunflowers sprinkled all over it. She turns around carrying three plates of food and my soon-to-be baby brother resting inside her stomach.

            My father silently eats his food while my mother cycles through her usual questions: how was school mijo? Did you learn anything? Do you have a lot of homework? Good, yes, and no. Tonight we’re eating Bun tacos, which are regular tacos but instead of shells, my Mom uses hamburger buns. My family tries their best to be American; both of my parents speak broken English and have jobs. In the early morning, my Dad leaves to wait outside the am/pm in search for some yard work with other Latinos. When my Mom gets home, she sometimes smells of Lysol and laundry detergent after cleaning houses for rich white people in the suburbs all day.

            “The baby kicked today,” my mom says to Dad. “He’s going to be a soccer player.”

            “Si, para las Chivas,” my Dad says.

            I eat my Bun tacos while my parents talk about going to the swap meet this weekend. Looks like I’ll have to watch my baby sister. Helena sits in her high chair shuffling rice around her tray while small pieces of ground beef are stuck to her face. If I didn’t have to give her a bath later I would of considered her tray a work of art; instead, I take a napkin and wipe her face clean.

            “Ca…Calos,” she says while putting her miniature sausage fingers in her mouth.

            I put my empty plate in the sink and wash my hands; the warm soapy water is soothing. I gaze out the window where the clouds mix with the purple, orange, red and yellow of the sunset. I wonder what Nancy is doing.

*          *          *

            I got detention on Wednesday during English class while reading a note Nancy passed me, asking if I wanted to go to the movies Saturday. I was scribbling a large yes when Mrs. Ledbetter took the note from my hand and read it aloud to the class. As she read the note, I felt the presence of being alone on stage, gawked at by starving Cupacabras. Now I’m sitting in the cafeteria/auditorium for after-school detention with a white boy who was caught smoking pot in the bathroom and a large black sistah who refused to dress out for P.E. The three of us sit in silence and do nothing for an entire hour. Mr. Arcadia, a History teacher, occasionally surveys us and then goes back to grading papers. Across the way, on the auditorium stage, I see the American flag. It droops down the golden pole like a curtain made of carne asada. I still don’t understand why we have to recite the Pledge of Allegiance at our school assemblies. I was born in this country but I still don’t know what I am pledging to.

            Detention ends and I walk out of the auditorium. The school is a ghost town, the lunch tables rest under the shade of half-grown trees waiting for tomorrow, the foyer leading to the library is dark and looks grimly ill. The chain nets on the basketball hoops come to life when a sudden breeze nudges them, turning them into wind chimes. I walk outside the front gates of my school and begin my walk home. During the morning, my mom drops me off at school on her way to the suburbs. I walked to school once before when my dad took our car to a job interview that he did not get. I take the same route my mom takes when she picks me up from school. Within half an hour, I’ve walked a couple miles and notice that my house is only a few blocks away. Off in the distance, I see a cluster of figures walking toward me side by side. They try and strut like gangsters but look like a man walking with a wooden leg. When I realize that it is Gilbert and three of his friends, they start laughing and begin taunting me.

            “Look at this pinche puta here!” Gilbert says while his friends surround me. “Aye, I heard you kissed my hyna Nancy. I didn’t know you liked girls, everyone says you like dick.” Gilbert’s friends laugh and he takes a step closer.

            I never thought my first fight would be four to one but I take my backpack off and stand up straight. My dad told me that defending yourself is what determines if you’re a man, even if you lose.

            “Where is that gorilla looking negrito? And that big-nosed gringo?” Gilbert asks. “I bet you wish they were here to back you up,” Gilbert glares at me.

            I clench my first, trying to contain the fury inside me. The impact of Gilbert’s words hit me like swords, no one talks shit about my friends. Without hesitation, I swing and my fist meets Gilbert’s cheek. He falls to the floor. Suddenly, everything goes dark and I feel a large crash on the back of my head, small specks of purple and green flash as my eyes tighten from the blow. I somehow manage to keep standing and feel my arms being held behind my back while one of them punches me in the stomach and then in the face. Gilbert emerges and stands in front of me wiping blood from his lip. He laughs and then punches me square in the jaw. I fall to the ground; I can taste the blood as it pours into my mouth. I struggle to breath and watch as Gilbert stands over me.

            “Stay away from Nancy,” he says just before he spits in my face.

            I lay on the sidewalk staring at the grey sky listening to their laughs while they run away. I’m not sure how long I lay there before I get up and continue walking home. I walk for what seems like hours, stumbling, trying to replay the fight inside my ringing head. When I enter my house, I smell fresh salsa and enchiladas coming out of the oven. Although it’s one of my favorites, I run into my room, close the door, and don’t come out for the rest of the evening. When my mom comes in to tell me that dinner is ready, I pretend I’m asleep. Throughout the night I stay awake replaying the events of the day through my mind and thinking how I can get revenge on Gilbert. Eventually, I fall into a lifeless sleep.

*          *          *

             I’m in the library with the boys when I tell them what happened the previous night, they don’t ask me if I’m okay. Instead, they begin talking about getting even. Midnight and Squidward exchange ideas back and forth while Leland pulls me to the side.

            “Look, man, I know you want to get back at Gilbert, but is it really worth it? For a girl?”

            “This isn’t about Nancy anymore. Gilbert is going to get it,” I say.

            “Relax, dude, I was just making sure. You’re not some white prince saving the pretty blonde girl from the dragon; this is real. Someone can get hurt.”

            “Why the hell are you lecturing me?” I ask.

            “Because I’ve seen what it’s like when someone is angry and they do things without thinking. Every night I hear my dad yelling at my mom for no reason and then he comes and gets in my face,” Leland’s honesty makes me see him in a different light; he’s a fucking pussy. But as long as he has my back, then I know Gilbert will get what’s coming to him.

            “Yeah, I get it, thanks,” I say while thinking to myself how good of a liar I am.

            During lunch, the four of us go up to Gilbert and his crew. He’s sitting at a lunch table watching others play basketball.

            “Holy shit! You want to go round two?” he says. “You think you’re tough with a negrito, gringo, and a mutt standing behind you?”

            I wish I could punch him in the face like I did yesterday. But the yard narks are all over the place.

            “Shut the fuck up, Gilbert. You faggots jumped me; it wasn’t a fair fight. Let’s go four on four tomorrow night at the same place where you jumped me.”

            “I don’t mind kicking the shit out of you again,” he says.

            “We’ll see about that puta.”

*          *          *

            Later that night, Leland calls me and tells me that he cannot fight this Friday night because he is leaving with his parents to visit his aunt who just had a baby. I can tell that he feels bad, but that’s not an excuse when you have to back up your friend. I think about yelling at him, but I imagine his dad has already done that for me. Instead, I tell him it’s okay and that I will figure something out.

            When I get off the phone with Leland, I immediately call Midnight and tell him what has happened. I tell him that we have to find a way to make Leland stay. We cycle through options like kidnapping him, rescheduling the fight, and even finding another person to fight with us. The static on Midnight’s end of the phone rumbles through my ear and for a moment I tune out the world around me; thinking of a solution, it finally occurs to me.

            “We’re going to slash the tires on his dad’s car,” I say into the phone.

            “Seriously? What if, Lelands finds out?” Midnight says.

            “It’s the only options we’ve got,” I say.

            “You’re right,” he says in agreement.

            Around three in the morning, I sneak out of my house and enter the evening nation, the world with drug dealers and gangsters. However, the moonless evening provides a calm silence as I run toward Midnight’s house. He’s already sitting on the curb outside his house when I arrive.

            “Did you bring the knife? I ask.

            “Yeah, here check it out,” he says while handing me the knife. Its handle is large and the blade looks pretty sharp. It’s old with age but will get the job done.

            “Where did you get this?”

            “It was my grandpa’s, a Tuskegee Airman gave it to him when he was a teenager. He gave it to my dad and I took it out of his room. We learned about the Tuskegee pilots in history class.”

            “I don’t remember,” I say. “Whatever, let’s run over to Leland’s and slash the tires.” Midnight blends in perfectly with the jet-black night as we run to Leland’s house. A few dogs bark along the way but eventually stop when we run past their front yards. We arrive at Leland’s house and walk toward his dad’s truck. It’s a beat up Ford F-150. I pull out the knife from its sheath and stab the back tires. The air hisses out from the small gashes I made and the sound reminds me of a teakettle that has finished boiling. I walk toward the front of the truck and stab the last two tires.

            “Do you think we should do another car? Leland might think this was done intentionally for him,” Midnight says.

            “You’re right, let’s slash the tires of the next-door neighbor too.”

            After I slash the tires, Midnight tells me to keep the knife and we both run home. When I get into bed I think about fighting Gilbert alongside my friends. I’m sure we can win; we just need the same amount of people. Four on four, it’s a mini gang war.

*          *          *

            Friday during school Nancy comes up to me after class and tells me that she’s sorry about Gilbert beating me up. I’m direct with her and tell her that he’s going to get what’s coming to him tonight. She looks worried, and asks me if I still want to go to the movies Saturday. Her eyes are comforting; they bring the relaxation of lying in a bed after a day of pulling weeds in the backyard. I tell her that I will meet her at the movie theatre at seven on Saturday night. She smiles, gives me a kiss on the cheek and walks to class.

            That night, I meet with Midnight and Squidward at the streetlight. After a few minutes, Leland walks toward us.

            “Hey, man, I thought you were leaving?” I ask.

            “Some shit head slashed the tires to my dad’s car. Whoever it was even got my neighbors car too.”

            “Dude, that’s messed up,” Squidward says.

            “If I find out who did it, I am going to beat their ass,” Leland says.

            I should feel bad, but this is necessary, I need all my friends to help me kick the shit out of Gilbert. If I told Leland, I am sure he would understand. Years from now when Leland and I are old sitting on our porches drinking beer I will tell him what I did.

            The four of us walk to where I got jumped. We talk over a plan for tonight. Midnight is going to take the tall beaner, while Squidward goes for Gabriel, one of Gilbert’s cousins. Leland, will take the other guy who neither of us can’t remember the name of and I will handle Gilbert. When we arrive to the spot, Gilbert and his friends are waiting for us. They stand under the streetlight staring, watching us as we walk toward them. We stand a few feet away from each other. I look at my boys, my friends, the ones who have my back. I can’t say that many people would be here for me. In a way, I am thankful for these guys.

            I look at Gilbert in the eyes; he’s just as ready as I am. I look over to Leland who is mad dogging the kid across from him. The fight begins and I hear everyone around me throwing punches and grunting into the air. Midnight manages to knockout the tall Mexican kid and runs to Squidward’s side when he’s getting pummeled. Gilbert and I trade a few punches before he lands a good one on my chest. I return with a blow to his temple. He stumbles back and his cousin Gabriel helps him up. Leland is bent over on the floor with a bloody nose. I watch Midnight help Leland out while Squidward throws punches to Gabriel while blood drips from the corner of his mouth. Gilbert runs over to me and punches me in the face one last time before I fall to the ground. He hovers over me throwing punches to my face. The adrenaline helps me take his punches with ease. Squidward comes over and pushes Gilbert off of me. I stand up and run toward Gilbert, I reach into my pocket and pull out the knife Midnight gave me. Leland pushes off the tall beaner onto the ground and runs to my side.

            “A knife?” he shouts.

            “Get out of my way!” I say.

            Gilbert gets up slowly with his eyes on the knife. He begins to back up, his eyes bright like a headlight with fear. The rest of his crew stands up, everything is quiet and as I survey the silence I feel alive for the first time. I hold the knife and walk closer to Gilbert.

            “Aye fool, calm down!” Gilbert says

            “Shut the fuck up!” I shout. “You and your spik friends better leave us alone or I will find you and shove this knife in your chest.”

            Gilbert and his crew begin walking away. I put the knife back in its sheath and look at the boys who stare at me in shock.

            “Carlos, what the hell was that?” Leland asks.

            “I…I don’t know,” I say.

            “It’s alright, man,” Midnight says, “let’s go back to our neighborhood.”

            The four of us walk back to our houses in silence. Squidward spits blood from his mouth and Leland repositions his jaw. I look at my friends and smile.

            “Why are you smiling?” Midnight asks.

            “He’s probably checking you out,” Leland responds.

            The four of us laugh and continue walking, I grab the knife and drop it into a sewage drain. As we walk to our houses, the evening begins to cover the ghetto that is our home.

Posted By: Oz Maria

@Oskee_Sauce

Cult.ivate

One of the best short documentaries I have ever seen.  It’s only 15 minutes, but within that short frame of time you can see the vast emotions that run deep in Macklemore & Ryan Lewis.  This is also evident in the quality of their work and how they have accomplished everything on their own, with their own team, no label.  Seriously, take the time to view this one through, good stuff.  Enough Chatter.  

Posted By: Sleepy Lee

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Hailing out of Long Island, Chillwave and Indie-Pop act Twin Sister has taken the masses by storm.  They have completed tours throughout the U.S. as well as Europe.  After the release of their first ep back in 2008 titled Vampires With Dreaming Kids, the group worked up quite a following in the Brooklyn area and from their it spread outward.  Their most noticeable buzz as of late would have to be getting their song “Meet The Frownies” sampled on Kendrick Lamar’s hit song “The Recipe” ft. Dr. Dre.  When you listen to Kendrick’s song, the sample stands out to you immediately, which lead many to see what the sample was and listen to the original.  That, my good people, is what is waiting for you right below.  Enough Chatter.

Posted By: Sleepy Lee

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Posted By: Sleepy Lee

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Purity Ring has been featured on Cultivated Society before for the excellent music this duo can make. Now, have you heard of T.Shirt? He is definitely more of a lowkey rapper; not many people know his music but overall he is pretty good. T.Shirt decided to do this amazing and, need I say amazing, rap/poetry over 15 minutes of instrumental cut tracks from Purity Rings new album ‘Shrines.’ The product of Purity Ring instrumentals and T.Shirt rapping is, yep you guessed it, AMAZING. Listen to it all, you will not regret it. That is all. 

Posted By: L.A.

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It’s been 470 days since the Detroit Tigers and San Francisco Giants last played each other on July 3, 2011. Despite not playing each other at all this season, both teams know exactly what they are up against, and they’re both ready for the fight. It’s the hard-hitting, skilled-pitching Tigers against the talented and resilient Giants.  

The Tigers are making their 11th trip to the Fall Classic while the Giants are making their 19th. Although they combine for 30 World Series appearances, this season marks the first time they will face-off against each other for the title of “World Champions.” 

If there’s anything the 162 regular season games proved to us, it’s that these two teams simply don’t give up. While both teams won their division after trailing to begin the season, it wasn’t any easy road. The Tigers looked like a dud for much of the first half while trying to catch up to the Chicago White Sox. On the other spectrum, the Giants trailed the Dodgers for a short time before beginning another magical run at the playoffs.

The simple fact that the Giants made it back from a 3-1 deficit in the National League Championship Series means they are legitimate contenders to win their second World Series in three years. And despite the Tigers making it look easy, their series victories over the Oakland A’s and New York Yankees should not be taken lightly.

The Giants might also want to send a thank-you card to Justin Verlander for their home-field advantage. It was Verlander who started, and lost, the All-Star game for the American League back in July, which ultimately game home-field advantage to the National League. (At least the All-Star game has some importance unlike those other pathetic leagues… I’m looking at you NFL).

Although the Tigers have had a week of rest after their dominant performance in the American League Championship Series, look for the Giants to continue their momentum and come out swinging when these two face off starting Wednesday in San Francisco. 

All games begin at 8:00 p.m. ET on FOX

Game 1: Tigers @ Giants (Wednesday, October 24)

Game 2: Tigers @ Giants (Thursday, October 25)

Game 3: Giants @ Tigers (Saturday, October 27)

Game 4: Giants @ Tigers (Sunday, October 28)

*Game 5: Giants @ Tigers (Monday, October 29)

*Game 6: Tigers @ Giants (Wednesday, October 31)

*Game 7: Tigers @ Giants (Thursday, November 1)

*If Necessary 

World Series Prediction: Giants 4-2

Fielded By: J. Mart

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Mary J. Blige is no secret to the music scene, regardless of what type of genre your into.  If you remember what I was saying the other day about how their are those names that even if you don’t know their music, you still recognize the name because they are internationally recognized and respected.  Mary J. is one such name.  She is 41 and the girl still looks good, oh, and her vocals are okay too I guess…relax, I’m joking.  Recently wrapping up her tour with D’angelo, Ms. Blige has released a new track as she puts her own spin on the 1992 hit by Arrested Development called “Everyday People”.  Stream and download the track below.  Enough Chatter.

Download the track HERE

Posted By: Sleepy Lee

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So by now you should of had an ample amount of time to go through Kendrick’s new album at least 5 or 6 times.  The theme of the album is awesome and you can tell the cd goes through Kendrick’s life, starting in chronological order.  Songs one through three you can tell are from when he is younger as he talks about riding deep with the homies and his girl Sherane from school.  As the album progresses you see things that Kendrick has grown up around and struggled with his entire life just to make it to where he is today.  Looking at the album, you will see the last tracks on it (excluding bonus tracks) are with Dr. Dre and Mary J. Blige implying that he has made it to the point from where he started in song 1 to sharing the stage and studio with names like Dr. Dre and Mary J. Blige.  Kind of inspiring huh?  I thought so.  Depending where you buy the album from, you will receive a different bonus track.  Buying the album from iTunes will unlock one of the secret tracks, buying the album from Target will give you another one of those bonus tracks.  Listen and enjoi. Enough Chatter.  

Posted By: Sleepy Lee

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