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Lava means never having to say you’re sorry

Smell that? That’s the sad scent of missed tiki-tunity. At this past weekend’s Putnam Valley Town Tag Sale, our own Otto spotted a little lava tiki at one of the tables. Ku -- warrior god, evil con carne.

The Brady boys admire a Tiki. Eager to add to his collection of cursed forbidden trinkets (I think we’re all familiar with the Brady Bunch in Hawaii episode), he turned his pockets inside out to find his flask, his wallet, his lucky dagger but, unfortunately, not the five bucks required to walk away with the tiki. When he finally returned, incredible post-LGC show later, he was greeted with an empty space on the field where the tiki table had been.

Oh, how Otto cried! He cried and cried till he actually water-boarded himself with his own salty tears. (Editor's Note: Not true. Otto never cries; he breaks stuff.)

Otto, Stewed, and Roxy Still, the great outdoors was made even greater by the Cocktail’s incendiary performance on the rain-besotted stage. Weather and locusts be damned!

Special thanks again to Tom “The Bomb” O’Reilly for the beer and for having us there. Also, to the rest of the boys in the Barfly Orchestra, Hey Baby, No Excuse and Pistol Pete’s Soul Tree Villains.
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