“I told you we were best friends.”
Bobby, this is not a real picture.
“It’s a real friendship. We made each other bracelets.
This is literal fake news.
“Oh, no. This is, uh, Monterey. I’m the guy in the middle.”
I got that.
“And this is my best friend in the whole world, Jimi Hendrix.”
I recognize him.
“On my left.”
Right.
“No, left.”
I don’t wanna do this bit.
“And, uh, I think this is Brian Jones.”
It might be.
“People aren’t aware of this, but the Monterey Pop Festival had very few pixels.”
I see.
“But, you know, it was a much blurrier era.”
Bobby, this is not a real photo.
“No one can be sure of that.”
Spencer from the Comment Section can, seeing as how he made it.
“You ever met this fellow?”
Not in person, no.
“There you go. Could be an Editor of Time.”
A what?
“Imagine Photoshop, but for reality.”
Oh, let’s not make them a thing.
“Hey, Bobby baby. Who you talkin’ to?”
“Jimi, are you familiar with the concept of semi-fictionality?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh, great. Usually I have to explain it, and it makes no sense.”
“I can dig it. Hey, is that Brian Jones?”
“Maybe?”
“I can’t make him out, either. Tell you what: put a woman within arm’s reach.”
“Sure.”
BOWL CUT SLAP!
“Yeah, that’s Brian.”
“Let’s ditch his bad vibes, Bobby baby, and go jam out and get freaky.”
“Okee-doke.”
“Headband?”
“No, I’m driving.”
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