The Poison Tour Diary via Metal Sludge

Date June 8, 2001 / 771 reads / No comments yet

"Of Crack Trumpet Players & Sludgettes"

Alas, I finally have a sec to write a new diary undisturbed. I have really been having a great time out here. We are in D.C. today with a day off. D.C. is old Poison stomping ground from the early days. It's only about an hour and forty five from where we are from. We used to play clubs here and in Baltimore.
As reported by a few Sludgers, Jason Alexander formally of Seinfeld came to the show in Charlotte along with his crew. They are doing a flick with Gwenith (sp?) Paltrow. The Skid Row fellas were there as well as some very notable NASCAR teams too, so it was a star studded event. Jason is a hellava nice dude and I love the Skid Boys who are down there mixing a record. I, However, forget why they are in Charlotte doing it. Except for last night in Virginia Beach, the shows have been hot as fuck.
Time For A Notable Sexual Mishap... ( ya know ya love it when I get fucked over)
In Raleigh the other night, Johnny Smoothie brought these two chicks over to see me and while one used a sharpie and some Post It's as a score card, the other one proceeded to smack me while demanding I keep my eyes open during kissing. What the fuck is that about? I finally had to just say, fuck this, and ask them to leave. Kinky is one thing, but what the fuck? I guess I just have a face that begs to be smacked. Score card girl had the jammin' tits, but, damn, it just wasn't worth it.
Back To Other Stuff...

Yeah, I did in fact jam with Enuff Z' Nuff last night. Did Revolution by The Beatles and broke a fuckin' string fifteen seconds into the tune. I will be making various appearances with them as I need the attention or something like that. I haven't figured out what's wrong with me yet. Actually, its just plain fun. Speaking of Enuff Z' Nuff, Ricky Parent has been doing the encore with me nightly. I guess he needs the attention too, but the difference is that is he is cuter than me so it works in that little fucks favor most of the time. Glamaflouge king and fello Vint Drum Mafia guru, Mike "Fuckazo" Fasano has jammed a few times too. I like the bastard, actually. Public apology Fuckazo, I had ya pegged all wrong. I certainly can't blame a 3rd generation Warrant member for past Warrant misgivings. You are pretty cool, but damn, why did ya have to ruin that Pork Pie kit? Side note: Enuff Z' Nuff's bus driver is the best drummer on the tour and all he is doing is driving bus. Fuck him! Thatıs from Me, Fuckazo, Ricky and Frankie! Go get in a band!

And, As I Reflect...

Jim Bob Dwarf left out a few details also about the night he and Chantel were there. I made sure at the after show that Jim became part of the stripper show extravaganza that took place right before everyone's very eyes on top of one of the tables. Some guy was flicking light switches to the beat of AC/DC and these two chicks just went for it. So did Jim Bob, well, he really didn't have a say so as Smoothie forcefully bolstered him onto the makeshift stage as per my request. (Pics to follow when Chantel gives them up) Note about Chantel: She fuckin' rocks! What a total sweetheart! A Rock ON' Roll Angel minus the wings. Kisses baby! I'll see ya soon enough again. A couple more days and I'll be in "Back Home Hell"! That isn't directed at my folks, it's just the 300 fuckin' plus guest list of people who I had a cig with 20 years ago who are now my best friends. You know what I mean. Bret and Bobby face the same shit.

Let me address something. People are always asking where someone else from the band is at whilst I'm at meet n' greets. Please, if we do meet, please don't ask where the other guys are. I don't fucking know half the time. We aren't connected at the hip. When I'm meeting someone, C.C., Bret or Bobby could be balls deep in some midget nun at that moment for all I know!
As I Randomly Move Along Here...
One more radio phone interview today and then Im off to the "Smith" to see the sites in the museum. I used to do field trips here and get a hard on looking at the Indian chicks in the dioramas who were topless. I still get excited looking at Indian chicks topless, but the wax figures just don't cut it anymore. However, wax figures may be my best bet these days.
More Random Thoughts...
The bus was really hot last night and caused my sinuses to clog. I look horribly disfigured at the moment. Some panhandler is tooting a trumpet outside the hotel right now and he sucks. At least he is trying, but he is constantly out of key. He's giving me a headache. Maybe I can spit on him from here on the fifth floor. Naw, water balloons! Now that would rock! No balloons? Hmmm, a condom might work. Hold on.... I'll do it... Wham! I came close to the asshole! I better go now, house security will surly be up here shortly. Never mind the fact that some "trumpet panhandler man" is disturbing the peace just to make money for crack, his rights should be protected from flying water condoms for sure.
Later This Day...
Whew, I just read the Warrant thing that Ozzy wrote. Damn! Harsh stuff. That's exactly why I or Poison don't want a street team, ya can't control that bullshit. We'd just rather do what we do. Hype doesn't work alone. Truthfully though, Fuckazo as I have learned, isn't really responsible for shit when it comes to that band. Except for me, drummers are rarely the cause of bullshit in bands.
Ya Know What?...

I don't often check out the Gossip Board, but I did tonight for shits and giggles. I just feel like mouthing off about it for some reason. I would love it if some of these shit talking fucks would actually have their own bands. But they can't, they are incapable. They aren't has-beens, they are never-beens and never-will-be's. However, they will tell ya what's wrong with so and so and who's, who's band. A little advice, learn an instrument, write a song, have a hit and sell somewhere out. Then, put us down. Otherwise, shut the fuck up bitches!

It ain't people like Mick Jagger baggin' on Poison, just some hapless dick fucks on Sludge Gossip who no one knows because they hide behind screen names. (Yeah, it's my turn now and I work this room alone) Why don't you looser fucks shove a hot iron up your asses and slide down a bannister of razor blades into a pool of alcohol! You fuckin' moronic assholes don't have a fuckin' life. Ya think you are so clever with your slights and cut downs... think again, you are jealous roadkill that should feltch dead rat asses. Witty graphics? Please! Stupid wastes of bandwidth. (This is just getting fun now) Most of you homophobic pukes haven't had a piece of ass since your fingers went through the toilet paper the last time you took a shit. (Damn! That was fun!)

That's all for now. I'm out like a street, crack trumpet players' high C note...