Everyone overlooks the one aspect of alien technology in which they’ve made the most astonishing advances. The faster-than-light travel is impressive, but the amount of information they’re able to glean from an anus is incredible. The only data poking about in someone’s poop-chute that we can get are temperature and relative humidity (very high). Lately, we’ve figured out how to take a peek up there with an itty-bitty camera on the end of a plumber’s snake, but there is only so much to learn from the images.
Those gray bastards, though? SHPLUCK right in your asshole and they know everything about you. Wow.
I wish you’d delete this.
EVERYONE DOES. But, fuck ’em. And buttfuck ’em.
At least recommend a show to make up for your dastardly nature.
I am a dastard.
Yes.
10/18/78 from Winterland! The From Egypt, With Love run was far better than the three shows beneath the Pyramids the previous month, and that’s no surprise: neither of the drummers had a broken arm, and all the junkies could get their junk, and it was a home game. This is a ’78-ish show, skitterish and frazzled and seamful; little bit too fast. Keith is awake for the vast majority of the performance, which is not ’78-ish, but on this wonderfully clear Charlie Miller SBD you can hear various Grateful Deads yelling at each other, sometimes during the songs, and that is very ’78-ish.
Also: Lee Oskar jam.
Lee fucking Oskar jam.
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