The Poison Tour Diary via Metal Sludge
 July 3, 2000 / 286 reads / No comments yet


Dear Sludge Diary,
This week has been fan fuckin' tastic! We have done several dates in Canada, Ohio and Pennsylvania. All the cities rocked major league!
Holy shit! We not only sold out Pine Knob, MI., the vendors sold out of beer! I hear this is a record at Pine Knob with the beer. Party rock is dead? Puuleese!
Other highlights include... "Lit" showed up and did "Rock n roll all nite" with us at Pine Knob. Very fuckin' cool guys. They had a great time and drank most of our beer. They are filming a home video and seems they are sighting Poison as an influence. Life is kinda funny, huh? While so many of our peers are trying to sound like bands like Lit, Lit draws influence from Poison. A word to our peers who have slammed Poison: Just when ya thought it was safe to bail from Glam, Glam comes around and smacks ya in the ass again! Opps...
Oh, and to all the critics, well, Manson said it best, "I don't have enough middle fingers!" People like this have been telling us that our fifteen minutes are up for fifteen years now. I don't mean to yank the proverbial Poison chain here, but just let me say that we have confounded the anti-Poison, anti-hard rock critics once again. Please, if any of you anti-Poison journalists happen to come upon this 'lil diary of mine, on behalf of Poison and our loyal kick-ass fans, FUCK YOU! Am I bitter? You better believe it! Am I happy? Without a fuckin' doubt! Our revenge is knowing that your written babble doesn't mean fuck all. Our fans rock, we rock and you anti-Poison journalists suck FatFree's pussy with a soaked tampon!
In other news.. I met Harry Connick Jr. at the Kinko's in Akron, Ohio. This is true. He was getting something printed. Sad to say, he wasn't sporting a Poison shirt, much less a Metal Sludge shirt. I have heard he does not like rock n roll. Well, he sure wouldn't like Sludge then either. The Kinko's in Akron, mind ya!
QUICK SIDE BAR: Common Sludgeaholic question. Aren't you stretching the truth in your diary just a bit? Answer: No. I will one day write a book.
Onward kiddies...
Bobby left with the "Cajon CupCakes" last night. Two of New Orlean's finest lesbos. They own a doughnut catering business. Today is a day off, I haven't seen him since the disappearance after the show. His cell phone is off. I will most certainly report later. I'm actually worried. Bob is a big boy, but these two are very, very odd. Sexy, but odd.
Bret ended up partying with Lit 'till he passed out last night. I did however, see him stagger into the hotel here in Philly this morning only to met by "Liberty Belle". A fine lass who claims to have the tightest crack in Philly. She's a bit older though. Claims to have turned Johnny Thunder's dick into a Philly Cheese Steak back in the day. The only thing tight about Liberty Belle is the stressed bra she is sporting this fine morning. Right there in the lobby, Ms. Belle lifts up her day-glo green skirt to expose what used to be refered to as a vagina. Maybe a bit too much beer, too low of blood sugar or both, might explain why our other wise healthy lead singer shot off to bow to the porcelin god when he saw that glimpse of roast beef bewtixed Belle's thighs. This story will be interesting.
C.C.'s "Dali DeVilla's" showed up last night. They hate that name. Dali as in the Dali Lama. Two Buddist looking chicks who claim they are the ones who healed C.C. from drug addiction. They have super short hair and they were outside the dressing room doing that hmmmming stuff for like two hours. If anyone got a picture, please send it to me because this has to be seen to be believed. He didn't even know them back then as far as he knows, or can remember anyway. Lit was like, "What the fuck is this?" The DeVilla's were harmless, but had nasty breath. C.C. sez that they should sew their mouths shut, cut a hole in their throats and wheeze through a straw. I concur.
And me? I was just happy to meet some fans and hang out with some old friends. It started to pour rain and I was forced inside the bus eventually bidding my new and old friends farewell for now. Inevidably, all my peace on any given night comes to an end as you all well know by now. "Hey Rikki! Sez, Big John. Some one would like to say hi to ya." "O.K., Johnny!", I sez. Here we go... The door in the back lounge slams open. Enter Raven, the "Bavarian Beauty". 6'2" inches of hairy Bavarian woman. Yep, many Bavarian lasses just see no point in shaving parts of their bodies. To each her own, live and let live, but alas, this one has an airbrushed Rikki Rockett Tee shirt on tied up to her hairy naval. Hey, I'm the last one to pass judgement on a fan. A fan is a fan. They all deserve respect. However, at this point I'm afraid she thinks I'm staring. Well, I was. "Can we just take a picture!" she sez. "Sure!" I say. Surely I can stomach this dame for one measly moment. She is a fan for Gawds sake. I keep reminding myself. After all, I figure at this point she isn't out for dick, at least she isn't acting like it. I'm relieved at this notion. Could you imagine fucking a chick more hairy than you?
"Smile!" she sez, as Big Johnny attempts to snap the pic from her 7-11 box camera. All at once, I had the most insidious feeling in my crotch. Could it be? Noooo! Yes! Raven, The Bavarian Beauty, is not only grabbing my crotch, she is pinching the very head of my now shrinking weenie! I swiftly smack her hand, but to no avail! B.B. has a death grip on Mr. Happy who is now quite sad. "For fucks sake, get your goddamn hand off my dick!!!" I yell. "That's the look I wanted!" she goes. The flash from the camera pops. A slight sense of relief comes over me as B.B. releases her penile death fuckin grip long enough for the afterglow of the impending penis wound to set in. "What is your fuckin' problem!" I yell. B.B. just looks at me in a puzzled sort of way. I promtly pulled my dick right out then and there to check for battle scars. Sure enough. There lied a bulbis red mark right on Mr. Happy's head. "I guess she got ya, how 'bout it?" John sez. Can you believe this shit? My dick is starting to look like a pizza with everything on it and all Big John, my trusty security fuckin guard sez is, "I guess she got ya!" "Got me! She's a fuckin' terror!" I say. "Now that was out of line!" B.B. sez as she promply smacks me back-hand style, right across my now exposed nuts. "I outta sue your crazy ass!" I yelp at her. "Sue me?" You are the one with your nuts hangin out. You flashed me and I responded like a modern, decent woman should. Sue me? I should sue you!" Well, I get her game by now. This is a ball-bust, literally! What is rock n roll coming to? I ask myself. Myself doesn't answer. "Look, let's just forget this whole thing and you leave now. How about that?" I say. Johnny looks at me with that evil grin and whispers loud enough for her to hear too, "Look Rikki, if you don't wanna fuck her, I will!" "Fuck her? I saw sexier grizzly bears when I visited Alaska last year! Are you plum out of your fuckin' mind John? I sez. " Ya know what Rikki, I don't mean to be disrepectful, but it's really tough working for an asshole like you sometimes. Where are your manners?" I wish I would have had this whole experience on video because I have never been so, so... Awww! I can't even think of a phrase! "Hey, who hooked you up with "Hick 'n Proud" last time we played the south? " John continues. "Ahh, come on Johnny. I was bound to meet her at some point anyway." I point out. "You ungrateful cuss you! It was me that found "Hick 'n Proud" for you. "Big John rifles back. "Whatever! Doesn't Cinderella need another security guy?" I ask. "Yeah, maybe they do. John sez. At least Fred is a decent gentleman." "What do you know about being a gentleman? Your the one who wants to fuck the female Grizzly Adams here!" I say. "That does it! I'm riding on Cinderella's bus tonight. It'll be nice to be with decent human beings for a fuckin' change!" John barks at me. (Oh, and I mean literally. Big John barks like an american bulldog when he gets pissed.) Very odd. Well, that was it! John was off with B.B. in no time whilst I stood there looking at my now crispy critter of a dick.
"That's it! We gotta roll! Comes the command from Tour manager Rob Robo Stevenson. We gotta a long drive tonight! Have a little respect for the driver."
Apparently, Big John went on the Poison crew bus as Cinderella had taken off before John could get their attention. I hope Johnny had a good time with all the tension on that bus after the brawl that left us minus one monitor guy earlier that day.
As I close this reflective entry while sitting in my hotel room in Philly, I can hear some guy singing down the hall over and over again, "I'm so goddamn Philly white, do da, do da, I can't get tan 'cause I work all night and all the goddamn day!" Disgruntled employee? Probably. The fact that the 4th is just around the corner with a disgruntled employee with access to all the rooms is a bit scary.
The phone rings. It's my mother. "Richard, after last night I heard you need to learn some manners! What is happening to my son?" I can only find comfort in the idea that at least my dog still loves me.
Cheers 'till later,
Rikki Rockett
Can you say victim?


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