A few yearz ago, super muzic producer Bob Rock wuz in town playing a reunion show with hiz old band The Payolas. I went down to the local noody bar for a drink, and low n' behold, Bob Rock wuz there having a beer. I walked up to hiz table and introduced myself. I wuz never a Payolas fan, but when he asked me if I would be at hiz show I said, "Of course I'm goin' Bob, I love The Payolas." He mentioned that a couple of the Skid Row guyz would be there az well becuz they were in Vancouver recording an album with him. I thought to myself, "Cool, this could be a good night."
I cancelled my band rehearsal for the evening, so I could have a little time for what I call "The Pregame Warm Up" (a few drinks prior to the waterfall of liquor). In conversation with my bassist on the phone I said, "Tonight, I'm gonna smoke a joint with Sebastian Bach of Skid Row." He knew that when I set out on a goal, I usually accomplished it. He wished me luck on my mission, I hung up the phone and proceeded to roll a gargantuan bat.
Before The Payolas show, I figured az any rock n' rollerz would do, the Skid Row guyz would probably stop in at the local noody bar for a drink. So I went back there to meet up with a couple of my friendz, and quite possibly two fifths of Skid Row. Two beerz after I got there, Sebastian Bach and Snake Sabo of Skid Row walked through the front doorz, and it wuz like we knew each other. I greeted them az any good host would do, and they joined me at my table. I ordered a round of drinks, and a couple of my buddiez walked in shortly afterwardz.
I knew that Sebastian wuz a big Judas Priest fan, and being a BIG Priest fan myself, I figured this would be the perfect conversation piece for the two of us. We started talkin', and one thing led to another. I started singin', Sebastian screamed the high notes, and there were doobiez on the table in an instant. I had a moment of clarity before we sparked 'em up and said, "Hey, we can't smoke 'em in here. Let's do it outside, and then go see Bob." We agreed it wuz the right thing to do, grabbed the nearest stripper and went outside to blast off.
Sebastian had the joint in hiz mouth, and az I lit a match, a cab showed up. (It's common knowledge, that when you light up a smoke, your ride alwayz comez). Anywayz, Sebastian, the stripper, Snake and my joint hopped in the cab and said they'd meet me at the club. I flagged down another taxi and followed them downtown.
Both of our cabz pulled up to the front of the club, and a sea of people were still waiting in a line up to get in. With that many people around, the thought of fogging the bat wuz irrelevant. We came to the conclussion that were better off smoking it in the club, so the group of us walked in together, and everybodyz headz turned. "Pssst!! Hey, iz that Skid Row!?!" people were asking. I just laughed and nodded "Yeah it iz," az we walked into the venue.
I went over to the bar and ordered drinks for the three of us, but by the time I had got back to the guyz, they had already bin bought drinks by one of their many admirerz. I wuz trained at double-fisting when it came to drinking, so I had no problem picking up a notch to triple fisting. I cheerz'd them with my three bourbonz, we chuckled and began our debauchary.
The Payolas started their set and I continued with my three bourbonz, no scotch, and no beer. Sebastian and the stripper were getting along quite well, but he and I knew that we had unfinished bizness together. He, the stripper and myself rendezvous'd backstage to smoke the joint, and az soon az I lit a match, the god damn doorman showed up. Since I wuz the nobody, Sebatian a celebrity, and her a stripper... I got the boot. Once again, me and my joint were parted like the Red Sea, and I tried to explain myself to a pissed off doorman az he pushed me backwardz through the doorz. "But really, I'm suppozed to be here!"
I managed to convince him to not kick me out of the club, so I got to stay for the rest of the show. I kept up with my triple fisting, and maintained somewhat of a drunk contact with Snake Sabo all night. I never did see Sebastian, my joint or the stripper again... they were long gone.
The next day, I learned that I half suceeded in achieving my goal of getting Skid Row'z singer stoned. Back at the strip club having a beer, the stripper came over to my table az soon az she recognized me from the night before. "He wuz so beautiful..." she said, "we went back to hiz hotel room, and just stared into each otherz eyez. He didn't even lay a finger on me." She wuz amazed that a rock star could be a gentleman, rather than just a sex pig. I just laughed and imagined him telling hiz mates on the way back to Vancouver, "Man! That dood got me so baked I couldn't even f**k her!"


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