A few months ago I spotted what may or may not be George Clinton in my hood. I walked in front of him to make sure, then I snapped this pic with my old camera phone. I didn't speak to him because, well, because he's George Effing Clinton and you just don't go up to him unless you've got something to say (or some free pot). And I was coming home from work (wearing a tie!) and I didn't want him to think I was a narc. Although my friend's band opened for him and P-Funk several times, I don't know him personally and I didn't have any free pot for him, so I settled for taking this secretive picture from behind rather than approach him from the front and start talking to him like kind of yuppie with a freaky man crush.
I was telling a friend the George Clinton story last week and showed the picture to prove it, but (maybe because of the small screen on my phone), my friend doubted it was the man from the mothership and instead insisted that I had snapped a picture of a really weird homeless guy. So I'll leave it to you imaginary people to decide: