
“Trey!”
…
“Trey!”
…
“TREY!”
“Dammit, Pagey, I’m holding up a sign right now.”
“I can’t do my belt.”
“I’ll help you in a minute, buddy.”
“What do those shapes mean?”
“It says ‘Go Vote.’ People have to vote this year.”
“I vote for spaghetti and meatballs..”
“We’re not voting for lunch, Page. We’re voting for a president.”
“Then I vote for the happy man with ears. His name is Madonna.”
“Obama.”
“Banana.”
“Obama.”
“He smiles and his wife is pretty.”
“Yes, but he can’t be president any more, buddy.”
“But I want him to be.”
“Lot of people do. But he can’t. It’s a rule.”
…
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”









Here’s something else that has nothing, nothing at all, to do with the flaming wreckage of a failed experiment our republic and culture has become: Phil and some very special Phriends from the Warfield in SanFrancisco on 4/15/99. Trapqueen Applefucker and Page from The Phishes joined Phil, along with Steve Kimock and John Molo, and the whole thing kicks ass, starting with the half-hour Viola Lee. Grateful Deads are playing Phosh music, Phishes are playing choogly tunes: mass hysteria.