Hey, PIg. Whatcha doing?
“Waiting t’ play. Boys are doin’ their bippy-bop shit.”
This is 1970, though. They didn’t do it as much as they used to.
“Old age is gettin’ to ’em, I guess.”
Happens to us all.
“Didn’t happen to the ol’ Pig!”
No. How’s the venue?
“Atrocious! It’s like ruins, but without the charm. Know what it smells like? Imagine if piss could take a piss!”
“Helps t’ keep a cigarette lit. You should see some o’ the places we gotta play! Last month, we was in some sort o’ factory where they process horse assholes. during the day.”
What does “process” mean?
“I didn’t ask! If they gonna do that to a horse, imagine what they’d do to the ol’ Pig!”
“All we played was dumps. Even the nice joints! Fillmore East had rats the size o’ cats! An’ cats the size o’ dogs! An’ dogs the size o’ rats! It was circular an’ confusin’!”
I would imagine.
“Played a place in LA they did some sort ‘ Satanic nonsense in when the bands weren’t there! Walls was full o’ voodoo doodlin’!”
That sounds bad.
“Weirdo books layin’ around. Lesh starts readin’ from one and that mangy mutt summons himself up a taterdemalion. You ever met M’b the Soggy?”
“Avoid it if possible!”
“Nothin’ like those places you guys got. All nice an’ clean. Stuff t’ eat besides funky hot dogs and popcorn. I got no idea what gluten is, but I enjoy being able to not eat it if I don’t wanna.”
Pig, are you using the Time Sheath to go to concerts in the future?
Who’d you see?
Again? How many times is that?
“28. The ol’ PIg’s in the Beyhive. Even stole me a tee-shirt.”
Pig, please don’t wear a Beyoncé shirt in 1970.
“How ’bout I do, but just make sure there ain’t no pictures?’