Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses
The Thoughts of Axl Rose
0 ReviewsToo long to be called a drabble, but I guess it is one. My first, lol....Enjoy! :D
Guilty Pleasures (The Thoughts of Axl Rose)
Last solo of the last song and we're done. L.A is the last stop of our tour, but who cares about that right now? There is a half black guy that calls himself Slash right next to me, blowing a solo to “Sweet Child of Mine,” watching me sway left and right in front of the crowd. And the first thing I see on his tight curly hair is that top hat.
That fucking hat. It's the hat that I envy so much because it's closer to him than I could ever be, lead singer or not. ...I hate that object so deeply, I pulled it off his head. Is it stuck to his hair like Krazy Glue? ...nope. My mind told me to inspect it with all the time that solo has left. Thoughts ran through my mind. There must be some kind of contraption inside of this thing that helps him nail those masterpieces, right? ...no. It's just a plain old hat. But I play with it anyway. And he let me! He didn't seem to mind, but he's there, fondling that Les Paul like it's his lover. I'm getting jealous of that Goddamned thing now, too, his mind seemingly in a different place than staring at me. His eyes are closed, from what I could see, possibly thinking about something....maybe it's important? Though...nothing could be more important than me.
I placed the Hat That Barely Moves atop my head, faintly catching a scent of cigarettes and musk cologne and booze....smells like him. I caught a glance over at Slash from the corner of my eye, and the one who I believed to be in a different world was right there, staring at me with soft brown eyes. I quickly smiled, placing the hat back where it rightfully belongs...but that doesn't mean I still don't despise that thing.
I feel the urge to tug on that dark hair...I want him to strum me like I'm his favorite guitar. I want him to tie me to the bed and fuck me senseless...why do I want this so much, and why am I getting an erection like this?
Slash, you bastard, do you realize how much you mean to me? I hate you so badly but I'm fucking lusting after you heavily! Fuck, man, I can't feel this way....I hate guilty pleasures. I really do.
Last solo of the last song and we're done. L.A is the last stop of our tour, but who cares about that right now? There is a half black guy that calls himself Slash right next to me, blowing a solo to “Sweet Child of Mine,” watching me sway left and right in front of the crowd. And the first thing I see on his tight curly hair is that top hat.
That fucking hat. It's the hat that I envy so much because it's closer to him than I could ever be, lead singer or not. ...I hate that object so deeply, I pulled it off his head. Is it stuck to his hair like Krazy Glue? ...nope. My mind told me to inspect it with all the time that solo has left. Thoughts ran through my mind. There must be some kind of contraption inside of this thing that helps him nail those masterpieces, right? ...no. It's just a plain old hat. But I play with it anyway. And he let me! He didn't seem to mind, but he's there, fondling that Les Paul like it's his lover. I'm getting jealous of that Goddamned thing now, too, his mind seemingly in a different place than staring at me. His eyes are closed, from what I could see, possibly thinking about something....maybe it's important? Though...nothing could be more important than me.
I placed the Hat That Barely Moves atop my head, faintly catching a scent of cigarettes and musk cologne and booze....smells like him. I caught a glance over at Slash from the corner of my eye, and the one who I believed to be in a different world was right there, staring at me with soft brown eyes. I quickly smiled, placing the hat back where it rightfully belongs...but that doesn't mean I still don't despise that thing.
I feel the urge to tug on that dark hair...I want him to strum me like I'm his favorite guitar. I want him to tie me to the bed and fuck me senseless...why do I want this so much, and why am I getting an erection like this?
Slash, you bastard, do you realize how much you mean to me? I hate you so badly but I'm fucking lusting after you heavily! Fuck, man, I can't feel this way....I hate guilty pleasures. I really do.
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