The Leftovers began as a way to waste a lot of time, have a lot of fun, and get a lot of hot babes. The first two have worked out really well so far, but we are still waiting on the third. Formed by forming members Kurt Baker and Andrew Rice, they began to write songs together in fall of 2001. For awhile they all rocked out with different dudes and kids and got really roasted a lot and wrote a bunch of stupid tunes about stepping in dog doo doo and going to movies with Gloria Estefan... no maybe it was Selena... she was way hotter. Fuck, anyway nothing really began to click until about fall of 2002, when they started to rock  with a friend named Bobby on drums. the Leftovers were then born. They played a show here and there and were not to bad, but pretty awful in you know that kinda fake punk anarchy kinda way. Andrew had a mohawk but after he got cut up by a bunch of skinheads he just let the bangs grow out, but then his mom cut it for him. Kurt had a big fucking afro and big ass tittys (still does) and a lot of kids would find it disgusting when he danced around on stage half naked. By summer of 2003 the orginal  line up parted ways and a lot of bullshit line up changes happened. it was pretty pointless and we all should have just gotten drunk or went to a water park , hell those are a good time or maybe even go to the aquarium and look at whales.  One day Kurt was hanging out in a basement with his friends ricky and the hitmen who were recording a demo with this kid named Adam. Kurt was like "hey Adam! JOIN MY FUCKING BAND". Adam is native american, every self proclaimed "Punk" band needs a native american, sioux tribe to be exact, i mean us white kids already kicked them out of the their homes and ate all there berries, the least thing we could do was ask him to be in a band. Turns out he used to be in a crucial band "Burning July" they taught us that the december winds brush against our faces, uh in like december i guess. So we are rocking out in adams basement and we see this dude passsed out on the couch. We wake him up and give him a guitar, his name is drew, and he was born in the 70's. he was in the kick ass band "dont hit your sister", thats fucking cool. SO we play some shows, wait i think im having problems keeping this in the right tence. i fucking suck at writting. anyway, we go to big sound to record. its a bad ass place in westbrook and this dude named Jon Wyman produced,mixed, and mastered our  session, it turned out way better than your stupid band's basement recording, so if you own a label... talk to us, we do tea partys too. the football coach is telling me to turn off the computers, and this dude is a big fuckin guy. okay, thats the leftovers.