Goddamn, that’s an enormous hat.
“I told her that! I said, ‘Woman! You wearin’ a damn tuffet!'”
And what did she say?
“She showed me her muffet.”
Nice.
“You know the ol’ Pig sat down beside her.”
And then?
“We got it on!”
All right.
“It certainly was.”
You know, it’s Janis’ birthday today.
“Where you think she got that bottle from!?”
Makes sense.
“So, tell me: how old she woulda been?”
Today? 74.
“Stop pullin’ the ol’ Pig’s leg!”
I wouldn’t dare, buddy.
“74. Huh. That’s some mileage. My grandma ain’t even that old.”
Getting up there.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to see that. All wrinkly and withered. Bent over and whatnot. Way it all worked out was f’r the best.”
You’re a liar.
“Heh. Yeah. I thought I’d try out fibbin’. How was I at it?”
Terrible.
“Yeah. All right, get on out o’ here. We got some celebratin’ to do.”
How you gonna celebrate?
“We gonna drink and screw all damn night!”
Good plan.
“Course it is.”
Owsley Stanley’s b-day too also along with Janis, which coincidently I just found out today while reading Rhoney Stanley’s book my lsd famil.
That looks photochopped?
Agreed. Somthin’ looks a little off.
My theory (and what is too (thank you Anne Elk)) is that the pic in question was digitally namipulated/pix elated/something or other in order to put a Racing Form (or is it a Set List? Itinerary for the Festival Express? Or a Finite Felony?) into Pig’s back left pocket (where he SURELY didn’t have his hands, bien sur).
Oh what a tangled ponytail of greasy nicotine&liquor-infused threads we weave.