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Rehearsal

You Say You Want a Resolution…

...well, you… no! Not making any. ‘Cause every time we end up not only breaking them, but chopping them up into little pieces and burying them in a shallow grave. And then we feel guilty. Like the time we vowed to give up drinking rum after we woke up to find ourselves naked and duct-taped to the bow of a fishing boat like a fleshy mermaid. Or that time we crossed tequila off our list after that Disney World “incident” involving Snow White and Papa Smurf. It may be a small world, but it’s a huge legal expense. Oh, and what about that Octoberfest that lasted till Decemberfest? Stewed still has an accordian lodged in the nether-crevices of his lederhosen.

And the band played on, despite the large grains of noise engulfing them.

So to save ourselves the guilt and embarrassment of not living up to some stupid goals, we’re promising ourselves jack-bodiddly. But we do promise you, our besotted battalions of friends and fans, that we will be back in February with a renewed sense of wreckless rock (and driving) and the vow that we will make 2010 the most bestest year to ever follow 2009! We promise.

Cross our eyes and hope to die.
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Time Flies
When You're Having Rum

May blends into June blends into July blends into… a devilish Caribe concoction of lost weekends and forgotten fortnights (that’s Brit for two-week black-outs).

Summer’s swinging and the blender’s getting more action than an Army Base Liquor Store Hooker. All of which leads us to the evil pleasures of Rum -- the cheap, murky mistress of mariners worldwide.Goodly Amounts of Rum Makes for Shrunken Heads

While some members of our favorite band, like “Bosun” Brown Tornado, strictly follow Captain Morgan off the plank, others like Otto prefer the landscape-erasing, tsunami effects of a fine Jamaican White Overproof. Stewed, of course enjoys his Mount Gay.

Whatever your pleasure, rum’s no fun unless it’s imbibed in true witch doctor fashion -- mixed with several other paralyzing poisons of the central nervous system, some fresh fruit, and served in what else? A handsomely horrific Tiki mug!

So da doo rum rum until you da don’t no more! And do stay tuned -- the Lifesize Gorgeous Cocktails are taking July to learn new songs to unleash on the unsuspecting masses August 23rd (Otto’s Birthday!) at the Sunset House in Peekskill.

Okole Maluna!
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The Shakes

The Big BucksSorry it’s been a while -- rehab’s a bitch. Last week’s back-to-back shows at The Sunset and Seany B’s went spectacularly (is that a word?) and special thanks to Chris and all the bands who shared the bill. But like all good alkies, we needed to dry out for a day or two. Three days max. Stewed Chokes It


Luckily we had a lot of other diversions to fill our time -- like fitful sleep, Easter candy orgies, paranoid delusions and uh... crap, there must be something else... oh yeah, The Shakes!


The Good Dr. BangwallerBut now we’re back off the wagon and better than ever. Matter of fact, we’re channeling all our new found, recently-lubricated creative energy into crafting the finest LGC show yet-- which we plan to unleash on the unsuspecting girl-on-girl-grinding public Friday April 18th at The Sunset House in Peekskill. Be present or The Brown Tornado will personally visit you at work and blow ill wind in your general direction, which I assure you, is most unpleasant.



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Gore Gets Gorgeous!

Band in drag

It’s our favorite time of year again: When terror turns tacky, lawn art celebrates death and dismemberment, sugar-stoned kids in serial killer costumes roam the streets, and gore gets gorgeous! Halloween, baby! A great excuse to dress up and down some deadly grog before heading out with a dozen rotten eggs and some toilet paper. Normally the LGC does Halloween to death with a mega-party, but this year we’re laying low and staying home, stuffing razor blades into apples. (Translation: learning new songs.)

Lushes always in costume!

Kiss Pauli!


Fear not - we’re saving it all up for the Sunset gig on Friday, November 16th. In the meantime, here’s some embarrassing shots from last year’s Halloween Hootenanny at the legendary Sand Bar (R.I.P.). Turning tricks and getting treats… smell my feet!

Svenroxie


RUMOR OF THE WEEK – Dickie Mellonball was actually born Micqui Mellonball, a 9 pound 8 ounce bouncing baby Mexican girl.

Ms. Otto is appalled

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