By the time we’d drunk our way
through the Mojave Desert and hit Vegas,
my ball-sack had rejuvenated itself
with cactus juice, completely, hey!
First Stop: I glass-jawed some guy
on The Strip and taxed his cell phone
and entire stash of ‘Hot Chick Trading Cards’
That’s how I fucking roll… yeah!
I let the boys sound check without me
whilst I snorted 2 gram lines of Spitfire
off a $1,000 hooker’s wishbone, nice!
on the back of the sleazy tour bus.
Emerging magnificent & spectacular
2 hours later during the last but one song
of our notorious support act
‘The Toilet Cistern Nasal Surfers’
from Barnstaple, Southwest England.
I hit the stage like dynamite, innit!!!
with brothel creepers leopard-skinned
and smokin’, ready for some Punk Rock n Roll.
We raced through our new set of classics
‘I Cum Ya Ta Empty’, ‘Flugelhorn Playa’,
‘Side-Saddle Sally Gets Twisted Right Up’,
‘It’s Better Suction With ‘Em Teeth Out, Baby’
‘Hobo’s Groin Wager’ & the heavenly
‘It’s Not Even In The Same Ballpark As Mayo’
Finishing with 13 and a half encores of
‘Pre-Cum On Your Mother’s Forehead, Bitch!’
The Barkeep paid us double & shit himself,
leaving us alone to ‘British Culture’ his wife,
Damn, then we moved on to muthafucking Utah!
Interesting Fear and Loathing take.
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This is a terrific, hilarious, demented, disgusting work of art, man!
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