Categories > Celebrities > Motley Crue > Merry-Go-Round
Author's Note: Lyrics used in italics written by Nikki Sixx.
You're All I Need
The genders react differently to break-ups. And here's your typical chick cycle: cry and eat chocolate for a month, then gather up the posse for support, and finally she steps out into the world, ready to start over. But as for us guys...that's another story. We bumble through a drunken, pussy-induced stupor during the first two weeks, and when the smoke clears....
Stephen accompanied me to Baker's pad up in the hills of Sunset Drive. The darn place reminded me of Maxwell Smart with all the fucking gates, alarms and what-not. Hell, the fella wouldn't even let anyone leave if they were too wasted.
As we strode into the entertainment room, who should be standing at the bar: Blackie Lawless. Yeah, we went back a few years, meeting in '79 when I joined Sister and then got kicked out for alcohol abuse. Personally, I still think it was due to the fact I'm too headstrong. A band can't have two leaders, which means someone has gotta go. We did have a mutual respect for one another, but being your typical male chauvinists, there was also an underlying rivalry.
"Sixx, congrats!" Blackie hollered, gesturing at me to come over.
So I left Stephen and made a beeline to my old band mate.
Blackie took another drink of his beer and set the bottle down, casting me the dangerous sorta smile he's known for. "I knew you'd do it." He slung his arm around my shoulder. "I fucking knew it.
"You giving Baker a hand with remixing?"
"Nope. Outta my hands. But I did show to see what he's up to," I replied.
"Yeah, Vin's laying down a few of his vocals. Just hanging around, waiting for him to finish," he nonchalantly stated.
Wait a second. Why the fuck was Blackie waiting for Vin? I curiously gazed at him.
"Oh, ya didn't know?" he asked. "He's been crashing at my place. Met up with him at the Whiskey about two weeks ago and he told me you two split up. So I offered him a spare mattress if you were still hell-bent on giving him the boot."
All I could do was stare. Totally dumbfounded. My mind began to spin, taking me back to the very morning.... Vin had entered the apartment, but I'd been facing Stephen. And when the slut came into the bedroom to pack his shit, that's when I finally rolled over. The few seconds before Vin made the phone call.... Fuck, the blonde bitch came home to me. The little whore only called Blackie because he saw.... Oh yeah, someone most likely told Vin about the incident at the Rainbow. Ten bucks the blonde slut fucked pussy or ass to get even with me. And after a night of seeking vengeance, the whore came home to slug it out. But Vin changed his pretty, platinum head upon spying Stephen in our bed. The dumb bitch probably thought I blew him off and really wanted Mr. Scratchy Voice.
Now I understood what went through Vin's mind during those few precious seconds when he walked into the apartment.
And when I gazed at Blackie, reality slapped me in the face. The dude was no gentleman. We only had one sincere fella in our pack: Warren. Spare mattress? Bull fucking shit! Crashing at this fucktard's place came with a price! Damn rights Blackie was dicking Vin! Who the fuck wouldn't? Only a complete moron....This dude was no moron. He was as shrewd as they came.
Blackie sorta grinned and I do believe he was reading my thoughts.
Just at that moment the blonde-whore-in-question made an appearance. We both stopped staring at each other, turning our attention to Vinnie.
Oh yeah, dressed to kill as always, decked out from head to toe in white with gold jewelry. I wanted to kick myself since I didn't bother to dress up any, or shower. Well, why the hell would I? After all, I came here to see Baker. But I should have remembered Vin never stepped out unless he was groomed to stop traffic.
Sure enough, we weren't the only ones with our tongues on the floor. Everyone was staring at Vin. And I didn't like that smug smile on the blonde whore's face as he approached us. He cast me the very same look he bestowed on me when we met for the first time at the Starwood. Little bitch.
"Let's fly," Vince said, gazing at Blackie, not bothering to spare me another half-hearted glance. "I'm hungry."
Blackie set down his beer. "Sure." Then he nodded at me. "See ya around, Sixx."
Stephen watched the three of us from the entranceway where he spoke with a few girls and guys. And I almost burst out laughing, tickled pink when up went Vin's arm, his slight hand curled into a fist as he extended his middle finger at his nemesis. Then he shook his platinum hair, turning up his nose, looking away.
My bravado was short-lived when Blackie slipped his arm around Vin's shoulder. Yeah, my guess was correct: the fucker was mounting my blonde bitch.
I'm not the sort of fella who easily loses his cool. Instead of hollering and yelling, I cast someone a warning look, telling 'em to chill or else. But man, I lost it. Just literally lost it when I watched Vince rub his five-seven body up against Blackie, giving the big guy's hip a sassy bump.
I stormed across the room, following them down the hall. Blackie was drawing the door open as Vin sauntered outside. Stephen was quick on my heels.
"You really are a piece of work, ya stupid bitch," I spat out through gritted teeth.
Vin glanced over his shoulder. His brown eyes flashed with hate and grew heavier with anger as he gazed past me, staring at Stephen who hovered in the background. "Fuck you," he hissed. "If you want that third-rater, be my guest."
With that, he started down the steps, making a beeline for Blackie's vehicle.
I quickly followed. "Are ya whoring so ya can have a roof of your head this time? That's what ya do best, right? Whore yourself out to whoever'll pay your fucking bills, give you rides, supply ya with drugs and put food in your mouth!"
Vince opened the door. His brown gems narrowed while he stared at Stephen. "As usual, you're one step behind me. Once again you can pick through my leftovers. I used his cock for all it's worth. Your time now. Have at my sloppy seconds." Then he glared at me. "If this is all you can find to share your bed, I'd say you stepped down from Spago's to a roadside diner."
"I'm eating at some dive? Get a good look at what you're banging," I snarled. "That's the ugliest looking mother-fucker if I ever saw one."
"Hey now," Blackie said with a good-natured jeer. "I ain't that ugly, Sixx." He motioned to Vince. "Let's go. He made his pick and you made yours. Nothing more to be said."
Vince hesitated. His brown gems still flashed with rage, looked as if he wanted to punch Stephen, but he did as suggested and got in the car. Then Blackie seated himself behind the steering wheel.
It took all of my self-control to stay put while I watched Blackie's vehicle roll away with my slut in the passenger side and head down the driveway. Never did I hate someone like I hated Vin.
Yep, I was on the next phase of the male break-up cycle: I wanted to kill that bitch!
***
I did kill Vin, killed him in a song I wrote and tucked away.
You're all I need, make you only mine
I loved you so I set you free
I had to take your life
You're all I need, you're all I need
And I loved you, but you didn't love me
Laid out cold
Now we're both alone
But killing you helped me keep you home
I guess it was bad
Cause love can be sad
Yeah, some might call me a sick fuck for writing a song about killing my ex-bitch, and even sicker since in my daydream I held up the knife, launching the sharp blade into Vin's chest. Anger, sheer rage. The visions were now in my head: the blonde whore wiggling out of his clothes, Blackie's grimy paws running over Vin's smooth flesh and then sticking his dick up the slut's ass.
It was all I did for three weeks: wrote sick, twisted songs, all thanks to my scarlet muse. And I was thankful for Stephen, glad I had a vamp who loved pain because I needed that kind of sex.
But like I said, every man goes through the cycle, and I was slowly stumbling into the worst of it all, the lowest point where a dude would rather die instead of facing agony and pain.
You're All I Need
The genders react differently to break-ups. And here's your typical chick cycle: cry and eat chocolate for a month, then gather up the posse for support, and finally she steps out into the world, ready to start over. But as for us guys...that's another story. We bumble through a drunken, pussy-induced stupor during the first two weeks, and when the smoke clears....
Stephen accompanied me to Baker's pad up in the hills of Sunset Drive. The darn place reminded me of Maxwell Smart with all the fucking gates, alarms and what-not. Hell, the fella wouldn't even let anyone leave if they were too wasted.
As we strode into the entertainment room, who should be standing at the bar: Blackie Lawless. Yeah, we went back a few years, meeting in '79 when I joined Sister and then got kicked out for alcohol abuse. Personally, I still think it was due to the fact I'm too headstrong. A band can't have two leaders, which means someone has gotta go. We did have a mutual respect for one another, but being your typical male chauvinists, there was also an underlying rivalry.
"Sixx, congrats!" Blackie hollered, gesturing at me to come over.
So I left Stephen and made a beeline to my old band mate.
Blackie took another drink of his beer and set the bottle down, casting me the dangerous sorta smile he's known for. "I knew you'd do it." He slung his arm around my shoulder. "I fucking knew it.
"You giving Baker a hand with remixing?"
"Nope. Outta my hands. But I did show to see what he's up to," I replied.
"Yeah, Vin's laying down a few of his vocals. Just hanging around, waiting for him to finish," he nonchalantly stated.
Wait a second. Why the fuck was Blackie waiting for Vin? I curiously gazed at him.
"Oh, ya didn't know?" he asked. "He's been crashing at my place. Met up with him at the Whiskey about two weeks ago and he told me you two split up. So I offered him a spare mattress if you were still hell-bent on giving him the boot."
All I could do was stare. Totally dumbfounded. My mind began to spin, taking me back to the very morning.... Vin had entered the apartment, but I'd been facing Stephen. And when the slut came into the bedroom to pack his shit, that's when I finally rolled over. The few seconds before Vin made the phone call.... Fuck, the blonde bitch came home to me. The little whore only called Blackie because he saw.... Oh yeah, someone most likely told Vin about the incident at the Rainbow. Ten bucks the blonde slut fucked pussy or ass to get even with me. And after a night of seeking vengeance, the whore came home to slug it out. But Vin changed his pretty, platinum head upon spying Stephen in our bed. The dumb bitch probably thought I blew him off and really wanted Mr. Scratchy Voice.
Now I understood what went through Vin's mind during those few precious seconds when he walked into the apartment.
And when I gazed at Blackie, reality slapped me in the face. The dude was no gentleman. We only had one sincere fella in our pack: Warren. Spare mattress? Bull fucking shit! Crashing at this fucktard's place came with a price! Damn rights Blackie was dicking Vin! Who the fuck wouldn't? Only a complete moron....This dude was no moron. He was as shrewd as they came.
Blackie sorta grinned and I do believe he was reading my thoughts.
Just at that moment the blonde-whore-in-question made an appearance. We both stopped staring at each other, turning our attention to Vinnie.
Oh yeah, dressed to kill as always, decked out from head to toe in white with gold jewelry. I wanted to kick myself since I didn't bother to dress up any, or shower. Well, why the hell would I? After all, I came here to see Baker. But I should have remembered Vin never stepped out unless he was groomed to stop traffic.
Sure enough, we weren't the only ones with our tongues on the floor. Everyone was staring at Vin. And I didn't like that smug smile on the blonde whore's face as he approached us. He cast me the very same look he bestowed on me when we met for the first time at the Starwood. Little bitch.
"Let's fly," Vince said, gazing at Blackie, not bothering to spare me another half-hearted glance. "I'm hungry."
Blackie set down his beer. "Sure." Then he nodded at me. "See ya around, Sixx."
Stephen watched the three of us from the entranceway where he spoke with a few girls and guys. And I almost burst out laughing, tickled pink when up went Vin's arm, his slight hand curled into a fist as he extended his middle finger at his nemesis. Then he shook his platinum hair, turning up his nose, looking away.
My bravado was short-lived when Blackie slipped his arm around Vin's shoulder. Yeah, my guess was correct: the fucker was mounting my blonde bitch.
I'm not the sort of fella who easily loses his cool. Instead of hollering and yelling, I cast someone a warning look, telling 'em to chill or else. But man, I lost it. Just literally lost it when I watched Vince rub his five-seven body up against Blackie, giving the big guy's hip a sassy bump.
I stormed across the room, following them down the hall. Blackie was drawing the door open as Vin sauntered outside. Stephen was quick on my heels.
"You really are a piece of work, ya stupid bitch," I spat out through gritted teeth.
Vin glanced over his shoulder. His brown eyes flashed with hate and grew heavier with anger as he gazed past me, staring at Stephen who hovered in the background. "Fuck you," he hissed. "If you want that third-rater, be my guest."
With that, he started down the steps, making a beeline for Blackie's vehicle.
I quickly followed. "Are ya whoring so ya can have a roof of your head this time? That's what ya do best, right? Whore yourself out to whoever'll pay your fucking bills, give you rides, supply ya with drugs and put food in your mouth!"
Vince opened the door. His brown gems narrowed while he stared at Stephen. "As usual, you're one step behind me. Once again you can pick through my leftovers. I used his cock for all it's worth. Your time now. Have at my sloppy seconds." Then he glared at me. "If this is all you can find to share your bed, I'd say you stepped down from Spago's to a roadside diner."
"I'm eating at some dive? Get a good look at what you're banging," I snarled. "That's the ugliest looking mother-fucker if I ever saw one."
"Hey now," Blackie said with a good-natured jeer. "I ain't that ugly, Sixx." He motioned to Vince. "Let's go. He made his pick and you made yours. Nothing more to be said."
Vince hesitated. His brown gems still flashed with rage, looked as if he wanted to punch Stephen, but he did as suggested and got in the car. Then Blackie seated himself behind the steering wheel.
It took all of my self-control to stay put while I watched Blackie's vehicle roll away with my slut in the passenger side and head down the driveway. Never did I hate someone like I hated Vin.
Yep, I was on the next phase of the male break-up cycle: I wanted to kill that bitch!
***
I did kill Vin, killed him in a song I wrote and tucked away.
You're all I need, make you only mine
I loved you so I set you free
I had to take your life
You're all I need, you're all I need
And I loved you, but you didn't love me
Laid out cold
Now we're both alone
But killing you helped me keep you home
I guess it was bad
Cause love can be sad
Yeah, some might call me a sick fuck for writing a song about killing my ex-bitch, and even sicker since in my daydream I held up the knife, launching the sharp blade into Vin's chest. Anger, sheer rage. The visions were now in my head: the blonde whore wiggling out of his clothes, Blackie's grimy paws running over Vin's smooth flesh and then sticking his dick up the slut's ass.
It was all I did for three weeks: wrote sick, twisted songs, all thanks to my scarlet muse. And I was thankful for Stephen, glad I had a vamp who loved pain because I needed that kind of sex.
But like I said, every man goes through the cycle, and I was slowly stumbling into the worst of it all, the lowest point where a dude would rather die instead of facing agony and pain.
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