Malice The Band That Almost Killed Us All Part 6

April 15th: Malice arrived at their suite at the Hard Rock Casino in Mackinaw Michigan (which back in the infamous 80’s was considered on the same creative social scale as NYC or LA.), and waited for their newly assigned opening act by their record label Razorback Records.

While they waited Malice free based a Kilo of 91% pure uncut Columbian Fish Scale while simultaneously  consuming 15 cases of beer, 19 bottles of Whisky, and an ounce and a half of PCP Laced Mushrooms, and ate 7 sheets of Acid (because waiting is boring so why not party your fucking face off they figured.) Plus the bands Lawyer TR McCoy and their Manager Harold Slickmann  had instructed the Band to DO NOTHING while they worked out the issues with the Band’s current Record Label Razorback Records.

As for Razorback they needed to put a tour deal together fast as fuck. Razorback Due to the  current disputes with Malice over creative control had lead abrupt cancellation of the remaining  Tour leaving them in the lurch like a motherfucker. They had to finish out as many of the original Tour dates as humanly possible to avoid backlash from pissed off Malice Fans.

Now due to all the drama Razorback was unhappy with Malice and that  played a part in their decision to hire The Assholes.The Assholes were at the opposite side of the spectrum from Malice.

Malice was a Glam Metal Band used to the luxurious life in LA being fawned over by press and fans alike for several months and had forgotten their entire lives previous to being famous. This I think most people can agree the massively exprbinte and copious amounts of Narcotics combined with Severe Alcoholism was/is to blame for the Band’s Unique Amnesia.

The Assholes on the other hand were a Trio from the Shitty Streets of the Shittiest Slums in Swansea Wales’s poverty stricken Industrial District. They grew up broke as fuck with Father’s that slaved away in the Various Factories or Sold Drugs. They had Mother’s that Worked 3 jobs cooking and cleaning (for the elite assholes living a life of splendor in the Huge Mansion’s in the Country) or Turning to Prostitution, Drink, and Drugs.

The only issue was The Assholes were currently on a Tour of their own with their fellow band The Squatters who hailed from Leeds and had similar backgrounds as the members of The Assholes. Not to mention the group’s singers met in the drunk tank one St. Paddy’s day after grossly over indulging in an obscene display of Alcohol throughout the day.

For this particular Tour The Assholes and The Squatters had combined both bands into one collective group they were calling The Asshole Squatters.

This lead Razorback to bend over backwards and take it in the preverbal metaphorical ass to put together. First Razorback had to hire The Asshole Squatters (not just the Assholes by themselves) because their management claimed it would be easier to promote the new 2 week Tour since two thirds of the audience already recognized the name.

Second Razorback would have to Pay the Appearance fee for The Assholes, The Squatters, and The Asshole Squatters as each group would be billing them separately. Razorback would also be financially responsible for their other expenses such as Travel, Room and Board. The Assholes also demanded that Razorback reimburse everyone involved in/with the last two weeks of the Asshole Squatters Tour that would be left ass out in lieu of The Assholes embarking on the new Malice Tour.

Razorback not having a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of had to agree to any and all conditions set forth by The Assholes or The Squatters. In the end the tiny new 2 week tour cost Razorback $12.3 Million in extra expenses.

April 16th: Malice had a pre tour meeting where they met The Asshole Squatters for the 1st time over Cocktails at the exclusive Club Pretentious. The meeting was a short one. The Members of The Asshole Squatters  spent most of their time chugging pints of Guinness, doing Irish Car Bombs, Rough Housing, Head Butting one another in some Bizarrely Violent Drinking Game (which they themselves had created just a couple of weeks ago while on a brilliant bender.)

Malice sat back drinking Bottomless Hurricanes (with Mescal on the side) watching their new opening act getting Raging Alcoholic Type Drunk, and snorting massive rails of Cocaine off a gaggle of clamoring wannabe Groupie’s Tits.

The 2 Bands barely spoke to each other and as for The Asshole Squatters they seemed to be mocking Malice throughout the entire ordeal. It was hard for Malice to determine if the Asshole Squatters were indeed mocking the shit out of them or was this the classic absurd comedic Wit the British were known for.

Troubled by the shitty meeting Malice’s manager Harold Slickmann sat down to discuss the matter with The Asshole Squatters Manager Sly Slapper over diner (at The Lux Barroom and Fine Eatery mind you). Slapper’s take on the situation was it was just a case of “Clashing Ego’s”and it would be no problem at all. He assured Slickmann that the Tour would be nothing less than copacetic once the Band’s Ego Issues calmed down.

This was a boldfaced lie and Slapper the slippery shit was well aware.

April 17th: To insure there wouldn’t be any further issues before the start of the tour the following day each Band’s Manager spiked ALL the Band Members mandatory morning Bloody Mary’s (which were made with 191 proof Grain Alcohol or as its more commonly known Moonshine) with a heavy dose of Horse Tranquilizers .The intensity of the Moonshine did a wonderfully brilliant job at disguising the foul taste of the ground up Horse Tranquilizers.

This effectively rendered both groups unconscious for 18 hours straight.

When the time came the Band’s Personal Medical Team would hit them with a Epinephrine  Shot via an Epi Pen, and BAM everyones awake, on their feet, and energetic like a Rocket Shot up their Ass.

April 18th: It was around 11 am when the Bands began to board their respective Tour Buses each suffering from a serious Horse Tranquilizer Hangover. It wasn’t until well past Noon that the Tour was finally on the road. The first show was in Saugatuck Michigan at the Tubular Theater.

Before the show even started the problems began. When Malice arrived at the Tubular Theater they were met the first problem head on. The members of The Squatters being arrested by Immigration Officers. Malice’s managed Harold Slickmann quickly jumped of the tour bus and made a mad scramble words The Squatters manager Sly Slapper.

According to Slapper the band was being detained and deported back to England to stand trial. The Squatters were charged with 117 counts of Vandalism, 91 counts of Destruction of Private Property,  88 counts of Destruction of Public Property, 351 counts of Public Drunkenness, 57 counts of Urinating in Public, 22 counts of Defecating  in Public, 117 counts of Breaking and Entering (The band had a issue with breaking into Liquor Stores after closing time in search of yet more Booze), 144 counts of Public Nudity, and 121 counts of Indecent Exposure (The band also had an issue with having sex with Fans/Groupies in Public).

To make a shitty situation even shittier the Fans(who had been waiting for 16 hours straight) out front for the doors to open were well aware of what was going on, and they were getting more riled by the minute as they watched one of the bands they came to see being arrested at the concert venue.

Malice who had extensive experience dealing with amped up and angry Fans from some disastrous concerts of their own. They immediately put a plan into action as the inevitable Riot was building rapidly. Malice gathered up their instruments and amps aboard their tour bus, called in a massive Beer Order with a local Beer Warehouse a few blocks from the show, and lastly they grabbed a duffle bag containing 5 kilos (11 pounds) of Pure uncut Bolivian Blow.

The scene outside had gotten savage as the Show Promoter had already called in the Cops. Malice Fans were pissed off at the Asshole Squatter Fans for fucking up the show, The Squatters Fans were enraged that the Band was being Arrested, The Assholes were angry about everything in general, and all the Fans were mad the Police had been called.

The high level of surging emotions had given way to pushing, shoving, insults, violent threats, minor vandalism, and the start of empty Beer bottles being thrown around in random response to the current state of affairs. The Police had called in back up and as Malice got ready to put their plan into action the SWAT Team rolled in.

Malice slowly opened the Emergency Hatch located on the roof of the Bus and crawled out onto the Bus’s Roof. They then had their Roadies hand up their instruments followed by their Amps. Malice also had their Roadies hand up several Confetti Cannons they had brought on tour. Once on top of the bus with their gear and supplies Malice started to assemble their standard stage set up transforming the Bus’s Roof into an impromptu stage.

As soon as the set up was complete Malice started playing Misfit Covers as loud as their equipment would allow. This sudden musical onslaught brought the chaos and conflict to a stand still as the stunned Fans and Police Officers alike looked on.

Malice capitalized on this by announcing that this was now a FREE Parking Lot Show and then fired off their Confetti Cannons that they had loaded up with the Cocaine. A giant white wave exploded over the Audience with a lingering cloud behind it as everyone there went fucking insane.

The Police were just happy to have the Riot haunted so they let Malice slide on the whole Huge Cocaine Cloud (and assorted shit like that) just as long as they got the fuck out of town immediately following the Parking Lot Show.

And thats exactly what they did.

April 19th: Malice was contacted first thing in the morning by their current Record Label Razorback Records. Razorback was absolutely irate about the previous night’s show which was also the first show of a ad-libbed Tour.

Malice had their Lawyer TR McCoy step in as mediator on their behalf. McCoy stated it was fucking insane that Razorback was even angry to begin with. McCoy went on to say that Malice had nothing to due with the Show going to shit. Malice wasn’t the ones being arrested, their Fans weren’t the ones pissed off by the arrest, and if it wasn’t for Malice’s quick thinking under extreme pressure in an emergency situation had in fact ENDED the Riot.

Razorback being complete and total  bitches switched the topic of the conversation to what they were going to do moving forward post riot. The tour they said would continue but because of last night fiasco being blasted across national television had been forced “due to circumstances beyond their control” cancel that nights show.

Razorback sited that the change was do due to “Unforeseen Expenses” complied with the exorbitant expenses used for putting the current Tour together in the first place was putting Razorback on the verge of filing Chapter 11 Bankruptcy. And because of the severity of the situation would require Razorback’s full and undecided attention putting the Tour on the back burner for a while.

You see the unforeseen expenses Razorback incurred were from a legal dispute between Razorback and The Squatters.

The Squatters claimed that since their arrest, and subsequent deportation was due to charges that were racked up from their previous Tour. And since the charges were not related to this Tour they deserved to be paid every single cent agreed upon by Razorback and The Squatters per their contract.

Razorback had to hire a full on legal defense team of Lawyers to handle the impending Lawsuit and their Counter Suite. According to their Lawyers Razorback considered their contract null and void as soon as The Squatters violated the terms, and thus were owed jack shit as far as they were concerned.

Malice’s Lawyer TR McCoy sighted a “Conflict of Interest” on Razorback’s part as far as Malice was concerned, and was planning to take them to court over it as soon as he got back to his office. Unbeknownst to Razorback at the time was that McCoy was already well at work putting a lawsuit against Razorback on Malice’s behalf. Malice was ultimately looking to terminate their contract with Razorback Records by any means needed.

April 20th: Malice curent Unnamed Tour with the Assholes was scheduled to play The Wicked Room in Grand Marais Minnesota. Once they Bands showed up there was an empty parking lot and a massive pile of what appeared to be charred bricks mixed with assorted rubble. There was a note from the Wicked Room’s Staff addressing the issue taped to a bottle of Croatian Rum that was standing atop the pile of aforementioned bricks and rubble.

The Note Read: To Whomever it may concern,

We the loyal staff of the Wicked Room have the misfortune to inform you that the Owner of the Club (Dolt Devonshire) ruptured a gas line in the basement, and blew the Club sky high while attempting to commit Insurance Fraud.  So Sorry We know this Sucks.

With the nights Fans only moments away from the defunct venue the Bands had to figure out what the fuck to do. Neither Band wanted to relive the previous nights shit show nor could they afford any more shitty press.

Then The Assholes Singer “Bloody” Sod Bollocks announced that since Malice had saved their asses last night that tonight they would be repaying the favor. In all actuality The Asshole could have give 2 shits about Malice they just thought it was a proper venue to showcase their Hardcore Thrash Punk music. That combined with the fact The Assholes were chomping at the bit to play to help vent some of their built up frustrations.

Malice decided to take their Fans in attendance that were pissed off by the fact Malice wasn’t playing to an all night drinking binge at a local Dive Bar and Shitty Strip Club Called  Beef Curtains.

Even though The Assholes acted like they didn’t give a flying fuck what Malice did they took Malice’s Stripper Boozelooza as slap in the face. They thought if Malice and their sniveling Fans didn’t care about the show well fuck them and fuck that.

April 21st: Malice spent the day at the Hotel Spa recuperating from their legendary hangovers, and The Assholes spent the day Drinking and Drugging like no tomorrow.

The 2 bands met up at that nights Venue The Radical in Bayfield Wisconsin. The tension was tenable as the Bands circled one another lingering like fucking Vultures waiting for their meal to finally die.

The Assholes went on first and played their first two albums (“Fuck You and The Finger” and “The Toss Pot Teachers”)  in their interiority.  The Band then went on to play 3 separate encores each consisting of 3-5 songs each. The Asshole’s finally played their closing song their current hit “Fuck Me Dead”. By then they had cut into Malice’s set by a good 45 minutes or so.

Malice was furious as they took the stage 45 minutes late. Malice used the show to mainly test out the audience’s reacting to some new songs they were coming up with for the New Album they planned to record as soon as they possibly could. Malice was sure to pepper the New Shit with some of their Big Hits to keep the Fans excited.

All in all the audience response was overwhelmingly positive as far as the new material was concerned. In fact Malice’s new Power Ballad “I’d Never Call You A Bitch Baby” garnered such a response from the Fan’s that they decided later that night that it would be the first single released.

Malice celebrated all night and into the following day until that nights show.

April 22nd: When Malice’s Tour bus rolled into The Spectrum in Elkader Iowa to find that The Assholes had already arrived and were in the middle of their soundcheck.

Malice walked into their dressing room to find it Trashed, Thrashed and Totally fucked. It smelled like a Truck Stop Bathroom mixed with a well used Locker Room. Every single piece of furniture (including the trash can) was busted and broken to pieces. The Catering table was upside down which was ok because it looked as if someone shit on the food platters anyway. Not to mention their toilet bowl was on fire reminiscent of a childhood campfire.

Malice’s blood boiled as they had fucking had it with The Assholes and their shittier than shitty bullshit. Luckily before all hell broke loose Malice’s manager Harold Slickmann arrived in the nick of time to prevent a brewing Shit Storm from becoming a Category 5 Shitnado. Slickmann swore up and down that if Malice played the show he would put and end to The Assholes dilemma.

Malice begrudgingly took the stage and the crowd went buck-fucking-wild sending Malice’s spirits soaring. The show was going exceptionally well until “Bloody” Sod Bollocks came staggering drunk as 10 Sailors (on well deserved Shore Leave) combined. Bollocks slowly made his way to the side of the stage just as Malice launched into (what they believed on audience response) was their new upcoming single “I’d Never Call You A Bitch Baby”

Once Malice got to the chorus of “…I’d never call you a bitch Baby” Bollocks armed with a Military Grade Bullhorn would yell at the top of his intoxicated lungs “Because I call you a cunt!”

Malice’s more than temperamental frontman Izzy Sane let Bollocks get away with his rude interjection twice but not a third time. Sane dropped his microphone, picked up the stand, swung it up over his head with both hands, and bolted to wards Bollocks like a Meth addicted Rodeo Bull. Once Sane reached Bollocks Sane brought the Heavy Metal Base of the microphone stand down on Bollock’s head like a Sledge Hammer.

The base of the Microphone stand came crashing down and slammed into Bollock’s head right above his left eye shattering his orbital socket, severely fracturing his cheek bone, and sending his eye shooting out into the audience. Blood started to pour out of Bollock’s freshly busted open head like a deep red river. Bollocks swayed for a minute before crumpling like a piece of paper to the ground.

Bollocks was unconscious, unresponsive, and there was blood now spurting out of the large gash in his head like a mini 18 inch fountain. One of the Stage crew sprinted to the phone and called 911. By the time the EMTs had arrived Bollocks was in the throws of full blown shock. The EMTs opted due to the severity of the injury and the patient’s quickly declining condition to to fly Bollocks to the nearest head trauma unit a Trama Hawk.

On the up side Malice’s Fans were so supportive they cheered Sane as they Fans were aware of the tenuous rivalry between the two touring Bands. Unfortunately for Sane the police were not so easy going and arrested Sane for Assault, Assault with a Deadly Weapon, and Attempted Murder.

The night ended with Malice on their way back to their hotel, and their manager on his way back to the Band’s Lawyer’s Office double time.

April 23rd: Finally the Tour to end all Tours had ended as doomed from the start. The Assholes had flown back home to England as soon as Bollocks was stable enough to travel.

Malice wanted to circle the wagons so they bought a 56 room Mansion located on 66 acres (for an estimated $151 Million) in the Hollywood Hills the day they got back in town. The Band figured it actually made the most sense since until then non of the Band members past or presently..

Malice members lived in hotels or on the Tour bus while on Tour or Traveling. In their down time Davie Scum was on the worlds longest Couch Surfing Run in known History, and Izzy Sane lived with his Girlfriend (and Malice Bassist) Maxi Padd in her tiny one room Studio Apartment. Rock Harder lived in a Shitty Hellhole of a Motel down by the by the Airport called The Wayfarers located between The Drunkard Tavern and Sparkles Strip Club.

It didn’t take long for Malice to move in as the members owned next to nothing outside of their cars. Meanwhile Harold Slickmann had sold his house prior to the last Tour and went and bought a $4.5 Million Luxury Executive RV. Slickmann parked his newly acquired RV in Malice’s extensive Drive Way where he planned to live indefinitely.

The Band’s Lawyer TR McCoy opted to sell his Penthouse so he could move into Malice’s new 10,000 square foot Guest House. McCoy felt with the forth coming barrage of legal issues that were about to defend upon the Band like The Anti-Christ surfing on an Avalanche.

The Band settled on the name “The House of Malice” as the official name of their Mansion Estate and set to work coming up with customized additions to the Mansion (example: Replacing the Water in the 100s of Fountains with Armand de Brigand Brut Gold (Ace of Spades) which cost $6,500 per 6 Liter Bottle.)

April 24th: Malice received an intensely aggressive call from their Record Label Razorback Records demanding a meeting immediately in their head office in the Van Nuys neighborhood. Malice piled into the Band’s 67 foot long custom Limo along with Slickmann and McCoy in tow.

When they arrived Malice was marched directly into Brock Rock’s office. Brock Rock who was the Owner and CEO of Razorback at the time. No sooner had Malice sat down Rock came charging in infuriated beyond belief with Razorbacks Legal Team right behind him.

Razorback started the meeting guns blazing. They were basically trying to blame all their costly fuck ups on Malice so they could sue them for reimbursement.

McCoy wasn’t having any of Razorback’s spastic bullshit fireworks. McCoy told Razorback that by neglecting their client Malice’s best interests by effectively booking substandard Opening Act(s) violated the terms and conditions of Malice’s Contract.

That combined with they fact that the failed second leg of the Mini Tour had totally tapped Razorback’s Bank Accounts so they wouldn’t be able to financially survive a long ass court battle before going completely bankrupt.

Razorback ended up releasing Malice from their contract as long as all disputes between both parties were henceforth Null and Void.

Malice was now a free Agent as it were.

McCoy had a glass of 70 year old Scotch.

Slickmann immediately started fielding offers from Competing Record Labels starting a furious Bidding War.

As for Razorback they did in fact end up going bankrupt, and Brock Rock was arrested for Embezzlement, Fraud, Insider Trading, Tax Evasion, and Aggravated Acts of Beastiality.

April 25th: Malice spent the day whole up in their Mansion reviewing various and plentiful possible future contracts from damn near every record label executive there was.

McCoy and Slickmann riddled down the Contracts to a Fianl Top 3 before involving the Band.

The 3 Top Contenders were Guillotine Records a relatively new up and coming Record Label that was racking up Big Name and Unknown Acts left and right.

Another was from Spittle Sound Studios owned by D-Rockafeller Recordings Inc. who was looking to expand their catalog and appeal by breaking into new musical markets. They were basically a Major Brand Record Label in Indi Clothing so to speak.

The Final Contract was from an International Record Label called The Nation of Noise Records (who’s HQ was located in International Waters on a retired Cruise Ship). They had been around for years, but never signed any act anyone would give two shits about like the Country Disco Jug Band Legend Howie “Pork Knuckle ” Pounder.

After serious deliberation along with a crate of Whisky, 26 Cartons of Cigarettes, a Pound of High Grad Marijuana, and 8 sheets of High Test Acid on  Guillotine Records signing a 5 Album Exclusive Deal.

Malice celebrated the Deal by Buying Ferraris and the hosting a Demolition Derby Party that went late into the night, and the Police only showed up 41 times for Noise Complaints and all that horseshit.

A good night was had by all.

April 26th: With a slew of new songs and material Malice and in great spirits ,and (after finally ending their troubled relationship with Razorback Records) having just signed a sweet ass deal with Guillotine Records headed into the Studio to get working on their new album.

Tragedy struck the Band once again while wailing on a wild Guitar Solo for the song “Sweet Heart, Wicked Soul” Davie Scum played so fast that his guitar caught on fire quickly consuming Scum in the blaze. Considering how flammable the cheap Spandex adorned with Chinese Dragons, and the entire bottle of Aqua Net Scum used to style his hair it was no real wonder why he combusted so quickly.

Luckily for Malice they were finished recording their new new album titled “Finding Heaven In Hell” so all that was left to be done was Editing the Recorded songs.

Malice had to pay the $17,890 cleaning bill for the Studio to clean off all the smoke stains and little BBQed pieces of flesh from the walls, floors and ceiling (Not to mention they had to Neutralize the Oder of a still smoldering  Human Body)

When Slickmann heard the news he grabbed the extremely large 3 ring binder filled with Musicians Resumes he had created due to the fact Malice Members had a bad habit of dying, and granted a couple left to purse other pursuits.

By the end of the day Malice had completed their new 19 song album, edited it, lost their Guitarist to a freak guitar playing accident, and interview the top replacement Guitarists.

That night around 4 in the morning suffering from a drug fueled insomnia Malice selected their new Guitarist Stevie “The Shill” Stevenson who had played with such acts as Murder in Minutes, Killing Trolls, The Lot Lizards, and the Legendary Black Metal Band Nordic Slaughter.

April 27th: While waiting for their new guitarist Stevie “The Shill” Stevenson’s to arrive at the studio (he was flying in from his Private Island Shill Key in the Florida Keys that afternoon) Malice realized that they in fact not only recorded their new album in one day, BUT they had 87 other songs on tap.

With this revelation Malice felt they had only one choice, and that was to release a DOUBLE ALBUM. Malice then spent the morning listening to all 87 songs before selecting 22 songs that would make up the second Album titled “The Hardships of Hell”.

By the time Stevenson made his appearance at the studio Malice realized while now that the Double Album they had recorded 41 brand new tracks they still had 46 additional songs.

So Malice thought about it awhile before coming up with the idea of releasing a rare TRIPLE ALBUM, and set out selecting which of the leftover 46 songs they would use. They came together and agreed on this Albums title would be “From Heaven To Hell and Back Again” consisting of 17 songs and 4 singles. The singles the Band decided upon were “Into The Night We Go”, “After Party Freak Show”, “Dive Bar Babes”, and “Lets Get Laid”

When Stevenson arrived he pointed out that Malice still had 29 songs left at their disposal, and suggested Malice release the World’s 1st QUADRUPLE ALBUM. And of course Malice lost their fucking minds over the idea. In return for such an awesome idea Malice rerecorded the last set of 29 songs with Stevenson so he’d be credited for playing on the Album.

Malice even let Stevenson pick the name of the 4th Album and he dubbed it “Entering Heaven/Exiting Hell” sticking with the ongoing theme of Paradise and the Pit.

Malice partied into the early hours of the morning doing Actual Tequila Shots (that is they drew up Tequila in 6cc syringes and injected it directly into their veins.)

April 28th: Malice’s Quadruple Album was an instant success as rabid Fans bought out Record Store after Record Store across the country. The Media Buzz was deafening as Malice’s Phones where rigging off the hook like a real motherfucker. Reporters of kinds camped out in front of Malice’s Mansion Estate gates leading Hardcore Fans to follow suit creating a sizable tent city situation.

Malice spent the entire day lounging around Mtv hanging out, day drinking and acting as impromptu Guest VJs (not to mention banging groupies during commercial breaks or when a video was airing)

By the end of the Business Day Malice’s World Wide Album Sales totaled an estimated $976 Million. The one day success gave way to the rumor that The Chairman of Forbes reportedly shit his pants when he saw the numbers the following morning.

April 29th: Tickets for Malice’s upcoming Tour to promote their Quadruple Album went on Sale at Noon Sharp and 6 seconds later every single American Date of the Malice was completely Sold Out. Which totally blew the tits off of Guinness Book of World Records.

Now Malice was at task scheduling Shows for the subsequent following World Wide Tour. For inspiration the Band went to their Restaurant Take Out Menu drawer. After a few minutes skimming over the large collection of Take Out Menus Malice had set up dates in Thailand, China, India, Mexico,Italy, and Japan.

Malice used the rest of their spare time to practice relentlessly with their new guitarist Stevie “The Shill” Stevenson, and over indulging in Hedonistic pursuits.

April 30th: Malice went to down customizing their recently acquired Mansion and Estate. First they had a 4 operate Helicopter Landing Pads one for each of them. Next they turned 2 of their 66 archers into a Mobile Home park loaded with Triple Wides for their Friends, Roadies, Mansion Staff, or as a crash pad for party guests who were to shitfaced to drive.

Izzy was a devoted movie fan so he used 12 archers to build his own Independent Movie Studio he called Ponder This Pictures and Perverse Productions. The Studio was intended to be a stage for struggling independent film makers to help them achieve their dreams. In the end though it sat virtually unused accept for the filming of some extremely high end Homemade Sex Tapes/Full Blown Porno Flix.

Stevie took 5 archers and build a pond so that he could stock it with some of his favorite fish like Alligator Gar, Giant Snakeheads, Electric Eels, Wells Catfish, and Giant Carp just for starters.

Rock used 7 archers to build his own Amusement and Water Park complete with the motto which was  “Neverland is for PopStars”.

Maxi used 1 achar to build a massive Temperature Controlled Greenhouse with a high tech Sprinkler System. She billed as an attempt at Sod Farming. She also took another 4 to built a Small Farm where she had several Cows. At night Maxi would let the Cows graze in the Greenhouse where inevitable Cows being Cow’s would crap all over the fucking place. She claimed it was a trade off of Free Cow Feed and Free Fresh Organic Manure. In reality the set up was designed to be the perfect growing grounds for Magic Mushrooms (or Shrooms for shirt).

  

Other custom additions included seeing up a professional fire work rig on the roof, indoor and out door shooting ranges, ATV Trails, Skate Park, Pirate Ham Radio Station, NASA Flight Simulator, Hi Li Court, installing water fountains rigged with Goldschlager (with its original Alcohol Content of 53.5% or 107 Proof), A Reptile House, 30 Run Dog Kennel, Racing Track, Driving Range (because hitting the shit out of the ball is the only fucking fun part of Golf so fuck the bullshit), Wave Pool, Bocce Ball Court, and 24k Toilets/Urinals encrusted in Gem Stones (“Crapping like a King” as their manager Harold Slickmann would say.

  

April 31st: Malice dedicated the day to preparing for the “Salvation and Damnation Tour” by rehydrating with IV Fluids, Laid off the Narcotics in favor of just Smoking Weed, Only Drank Light Beer, Getting 8 hour massages with 45 minute “Happy Endings”, Meditating, forgoing Sex for Blow Jobs, and Blood Doping.

MALICE: THE BAND THAT ALMOST KILLED US ALL PART 7 COMING SOON

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober 

Text Poetry That No One Should Read

WARNING DEAR READER:

Even though We here at f-yourblog.com have an open letter statement posted that has a section pertaining to content. The Following Post is the reason We have said section. THIS IS THE MOST OFFENSIVE and OBSCENE Post to date. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

In the past I have posted a couple of SpaceDog’s and my Late Night Text Conversations. I was recently on a road trip that had me headed into SpaceDog’s neck f the Woods. So I texted Him a short 4 line limerick that then gave birth to an entire poem written on spontaneously on the spot while stuck in a real bumper fucker of a traffic jam. A few minutes later SpaceDog hit me back with a Nasty bit of Poetry of His own also pertaining to the same person. See one of the things SpaceDog and I have in common are a bunch of people we both Hate and Despise to NO END WHATSOEVER. To handle this deep disgust We mock these people viciously in an arena where NOTHING IS OFF LIMITS EVER.

Here is My Poem I sent SpaceDog:

THE BAD ASS BALLAD OF BRITTANY:

People laugh and people scoff,

But Brittany cut her pussy off,

She’d have Wild Fetish fits,

While Strange Men shit on her Tits,

She used so much lube She bought Stock,

While sucking on an Old Man’s Cock,

She’d fuck you till you bounced off the Walls,

She’d Swallow, Eat Ass, and Gargle Balls,

When She heard of Bukaki,

She said “thats for ME!”,

She always had problems with her legging,

When some Dude’s Ass She was Furiously Pegging,

No Secret Brittany Licked some Slit,

Nibbled on Crackhead Clit,

She Shot Heroin that was Top Notch,

She injected into her stank Crotch,

Filled with Pervert’s Jizz,

She Loves The Biz,

Now She has Lost All Hope,

She’s Sucking Dick for Dope,

Made Her money on her Back,

Spent it all Smoking Crack,

Her Vag is riddled with STDs of Every Kind,

She’s Drinking Mad Dog 20/20 to unwind,

She’s Pregnant again and She Knows the Institution,

She’ll go back to The Free Clinic for her 100th Abortion,

She’s a 3 Hole Super Slut,

Mouth, Vag, and The Butt,

She sits on the corner smoking a PCP Laced Blunt,

While Passerby’s on the Street gag at the smell of Her Cunt,

It looked like a sloppy Hot Roast Beef between Her legs,

As Her Live In Gimp Grovels, Moans, and Begs,

She can Cream Pie like no other,

She once even fucked Her own Mother,

Started a Porno Web Cam,

Where She’d eat Her Sister’s Clam,

She’ll fuck every last one of the 42 of us,

As Long You don’t mind Her Pussy Puss,

Her Scab covered Genitalia,

Just the Smell Could Kill Ya,

She’d let you Tittie fuck Her for just a Dollar,

You could finish on her face and its No Bother,

She would go insane if you wanted to run a train,

Just as Her Baby was Aborted so was Her Feeble Brain,

Gang Bangs made Her Wet,

Bath Salt Abuse made Her Forget,

Molested by Her Step Brother,

Preformed Oral sex on her Mother,

A Homeless Alcoholic Hooker,

As a D-List Stripper No One would Book Her,

She loved taking Golden Showers,

She’d sell Her body at all hours,

She can really go to town taking on a Taint,

She does shit that makes Hardcore Porn Stars Faint,

She has to be to remain the Rim Job Queen,

She was a regular at The No Tell Motel,

In Her Own Ejaculation Soaked Hell,

She was a truly Bitter a real  Bitch,

Who’s pounded out pussy tended to Itch,

Her Vaginal fuck Flaps hung down by Her dirt covered Knees,

A Vile of Crack would pop out of Her Ass when She would sneeze,

Track Marks under Her Muff,

Taking 56 cocks a day can be rough,

She would Masturbate in a Fury,

Behind the Dumpster in the Ally,

She’s fuck you for Food,

She’ll fuck a Girl, a Sheep, and a Dude,

She was a Donkey Show Star,

At the Sleaziest Bar,

So absolutely fucked up and utterly Dumb,

No wonder The Stupid Slut is coated in Cum,

She  used to shoot Golf Balls out of Her Snatch,

And Golf Tee’s out Her Ass just to Match,

She’s Dirty, disease ridden Prostitute,

There is NO Dispute,,

She used to run through Police Barricades,

While Screaming “I have FULL BLOWN AIDS!”,

She constantly Battled the Clap,

Under a Bridge SHe’d take a Nap,

She was a Tramp among Tramps,

She’d take Cash, Drugs, or Food Stamps,

She just a low rent junkie,

a Drug Mule Flunky,

A rotten, scummy Hell of a Gutter Whore,

I hit the Road, I could stand Her NO MORE.

 

What? You were Warned So if your Offended in any way…..

For those Reader’s who are around I will be posting SpaceDog’s Reply Poem Tomorrow without Fail Friends.

Thanks For Reading,

Les Sober 

My Decade of Debauchery : The Foreshadowing Preface

After High School I didn’t have a fucking clue what the hell to do. I was young, and hated authority in any form. Needlessly to say I was jobless and had NO DESIRE to ever enter the Workforce. I had no desire to become one of those poor people who waste the prime years of their life at work only to retire and resent it. I drank like a fucking fish while smoking cigarettes excessively from the time I opened my eyes to the time I passed the fuck out. I was on numerous illicit substances usually a combination of several daily morning, noon or night. I was what is referred to as a “Functioning Drug Addict” which simply means I can party my ass off and still function.

I  was EXTREMELY Opinionated and not afraid to state it no matter where or when I had an opinion on every fucking thing there was or is. My Mother I remember took me aside one day and said,”You have to watch your mouth because unless someone REALLY knows you at some point you’ll insult, offend, shock or anger someone, and their going to turn around and punch you in the face.”

I lived at home with my Mother as by then my parents had been divorced for a couple years. I also had the habit off pissing off one of my parents after a few months and then bailing to go live with my other parent. This was great for at one point I was living with my Father in a Dope Apartment in the center of town over a fancy ass restaurant, and was never there because of work and he was dating a good bit ( I met several women who’s names and faces I forget and don’t mind that I’ve forgotten.) So I had the place all to my self I had the entire run of the place. I digress for now that that is a completely different set of Stories all together, and I plan to save for another time.

I also had an extreme impulsive control issues as I had none at the time, with a horrendous temper I inherited from my Father (R.I.P) Whatever I thought to say I said and whatever I thought to do I did immediately without a single thought about any possible consequences. It was also true I had a Knack for getting in trouble, but ultimately I never suffered any serious side effects (Example: Getting Arrested Numerous Times)

I knew I needed cash to fund my” Low Life” life style and feed my various addictions as the grew bigger and badder over time. I was what is referred to by Narcotics Anonymous as a “Garbage Can” meaning we didn’t have one particular drug we craved and indulged in as opposed to others. I did them them all. I did whatever I could get my deviant hands on because my true drug was MORE. I never cared what it was just give me MORE AND MORE, but I”ll never be satisfied. I did Cocaine (I snorted and injected it), Smoked Crack, Shot/ snorted Heroin, Dropped Acid (Paper or Liquid), Ate Ecstasy and MDMA, Crystal Meth, Peyote, Micro Dots, PCP, and the some pills such as Vicodin, Xanax, Valium, but thank fuck I got out of the drug game before Pain Pills became EXTREMELY POTENT and READILY AVAILABLE. The one addiction I’m glad I narrowly avoided is/was gambling as I’m positive I suck at it from the get go, and would have lost even more shit in my life than I did with the Drink and Drugs.

I don’t include Marijuana because I don’t consider it a drug and remain a daily smoker.

With no prospects for a future outside of our shitty little town that we both despised with people we fucking hated Armenian and I decided to Sell Drugs. I don’t personally consider Marijuana to be a drug, but unfortunately the DEA decides these matters. With that said we dealt mainly in Pot, LSD and PCP. If we didn’t have what you wanted at the time we knew where to get it. This lead to a  good bit of middle man work done on our part and of course charge a finders fee which could be paid in cash or stash we weren’t picky per say.

Now the Armenian was dating this girl E which meant it wasn’t just me and Armenian it was a goddamn package deal. On top of that bullshit we found out an acquaintance of ours named Guru who happened to be selling the same shit in the same area. Armenian and I decided joining forces was better than fighting for turf and customers, yet E was highly opposed to the idea and protested loudly. In spite of her opinion Armenian and I proposed to Guru our merger idea and we partnered up.

Thats Enough of That Now with More to Come.

Les Sober 

SpaceDog & Dullard’s Inter Dimensional Demise

Well hell I just don’t know wtf to begin with this little ditty but we must start somewhere. The Kiddies (Staff) mentioned in their post that as far as they knew SpaceDog was MIA, but they also stated I claimed to know the current whereabouts of SpaceDog and at that time I did. SpaceDog had taken sometime off during our move to live out his dream of true inner vision out in some god forsaken desert, and brought our Chief Editor Dullard Dillard along for the ride. As luck would have it while transversing the barren beauty of the vast desert plains SpaceDog and Dullard came across a small commune. The commune was a Hippy dinosaur disillusionment hangover from “The Love Generation” founded by Dr. Nirvana Namaste (who founded to commune in 1961 after fleeing from Berkley University where he was a professor of Geology.)

SpaceDog and Dullard were invited by the current Commune leader and son of Dr. Nirvana Namaste High Hippy Freedom Haberdasher or Clive for short. SpaceDog held lengthy conversations over the next 4-5 days talking about transcendentalism with the members of the Commune (dubbed The THC Ministry Farms by its 78 full time inhabitants) well into the wee hours of the morning.

SpaceDog had always dreamed of actually whipping up a big old punch bowl with what he called “Electric Kool Aid”, and figured he had an apt audience. So SpaceDog asked Clive if he could repay his and Dullard’s stay at the commune by making a metaphysical meditation medication. Clive not being to concerned of the risk because well they were 117 miles from anything remotely resembling civilization. SpaceDog went to work (as Dullard watched wide eyed in shock and Awe) without pause concocting his Enlightenment Elixir. First Spacedog filled a massive punch bowl (25 gallon to be exact) with cheap fruit punch that consisted mainly of water, sugar and red dye. The SpaceDog added the list of secret ingredients (which is a bit foolish to say as SpaceDog had told quite a few people over the years about his Holy Psychedelic Venture)

This is now time for our Disclaimer & WARNING:

  1. The views, opinions and actions portrayed in posts ARE NOT THAT OF f-yourblog.com.
  2. We DO NOT Advocate, Encourage or Endorse ANY AND ALL  extremely dangerous acts that our subject (or subject manner) may pertain to in a post, we are just mere reporters, Documentarians, and Story Tellers.

WARNING TO ALL READERS!

We at f-yourblog do not condone drug use and believe Addiction to be a serious and dire subject.

DO NOT ATTEMPT ANYTHING REMOTELY LIKE what SpaceDog did EVER. If you do the list of severely sick shit that can happen to you include but are not limited to:

HOSPITALIZATION, SEVER NEUROLOGICAL DAMAGE, SEVERE BRAIN DAMAGE, DEATH, EXTREME MOOD SWINGS, LACK OF REASON/COMMON SENSE, DIZZINESS, DELUSION, HALLUCINATION, HEART ATTACK/ STROKE, SELF DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR (IE. SELF HARM), INSANITY, PSYCHOSIS, PARANOIA ,AND DEMENTIA and thats just for starters.

NOW back to our story…

Spacedog proceeded to add MDMA, LSD, Ecstasy, Magic Mushrooms (Psilocybin), Peyote, Mescolilne, PCP, Micro Dots, DMT, Ayahuasca, Salvia Divinorum, DXM, Areca catechu, Kava (Piper methysticum), Ipomoea tricolor, Khat,Fly Agaric Mushrooms, Datura Stramonium (Hell’s Bell’s or Jimson weed), Wormwood, Heavenly Blue Morning Glory Seeds, Areca Catechu (Betel Nut), Plants containing Atropine/Scopolmine,Lysergic Acid Amide,Eboga,Mexican Calea,San Pedro Torch Cactus,Blue Egyptian Water Lily,Colorado River Toad Poison, and Cannabis Sativa. There were also likely a few more ingredients that were added in an impromptu manner in the making.

SpaceDog’s psychotic psychedelic punch made its debut at that nights Feast of the Full Moon Festival. Now this is were shit gets really fucking weird, and the details are sketchy as sketchy can get. According to the surviving Commune Members some of the things that occurred that evening are as follows:

  1. 9 Members Brains liquefied and drained out of their Nasal Cavities
  2. 2 Members Spontaneously Combusted
  3. 17 Ran off into the desert night claiming that they were going in search of The Gumdrop Gods to request that they be allowed to live in Candy Land Board Game, and have yet to be found.
  4. Several members climbed large cactuses nude.
  5. 3 Members became convinced they were ancient desert Tortoises and still believe that to this day.
  6. 4 Members were transported back in time, but their destinations in the historical timeline are uncertain.
  7. 11 Members blasted off into outer space to have a foot race using the Rings of Saturn as their race track.
  8. 1 member reverted from a full grown adult into a barely viable fetus.
  9. A Couple of Members listened to Chumbawamba and Tub Thumped one another to death.
  10. 6 Members actually jumped out of their own skin.

But what happened to SpaceDog and Dullard Dillard you ask? Well I can tell you what I’ve been told so here goes:

  1. Dullard Dillard allegedly came face to face with his Doppelgänger. A Doppelgänger is a German word that means “A Ghostly/Paranormal identical double or counterpart of a Living Person”. The Myth is if you encounter an apparition of yourself is/was an Omen of imminent death. The best way I can explain this subject further is “The Omen of Death” refers to a similar belief in Doppelgängers that if you encounter your Doppelgänger you will cease to exist. Think of it this way its the same as adding a positive number 1 and a negative number 1 together (-1+1=0). It was reported that when Dullard came face to face with his own Doppelgänger (No one else there saw Dullard’s Doppelgänger based on what happened though its considered the cause of Dullard’s disappearance) he exclaimed “I’m You, Your Me, together its We”, and then proceeded to turn inside out, outside in, inside out, outside in again then he simply imploded.

  1. SpaceDog Fared a much less detrimental outcome though it is equally bizarre. SpaceDog is alive but is still tripping his celestial balls off thus details as to his exact whereabouts are unknown. SpaceDog keeps referencing a “Emerald Triangle” (a infamous area of Marijuana Smuggling Routes) so we assume at this point he’s headed North West possible to Canada.

Thus we find ourselves at the end of this tale of Oddities, and I leave you to make up your own minds as far as wtf went down that night in the vast Desert.

Thanks for the Read,

Les Sober

The PCP Party and The Pizza Delivery Prank

For a period time when I was 21 I was living at my moms house spending my free time sitting on my mom’s backyard porch drinking beer with friends. One evening it was myself and three friends Drivel, Cult and Ms. Razor. In addition to a 30 pack of Red Dog they had also brought a couple of dime bags of PCP which we preceded to roll up and smoke both bags. For our millennial readers PCP was a street drug that had its 15 minutes of fame hay day in the 1970s. The Irony is PCP is a veterinary drug (can you say foreshadowing? Special K.) that was/is a horse tranquilizer ,but in humans it can cause violent, unpredictable and aggressive behavior lets just say PCP was the Bath Salts of the 70’s.

Well the night finally ended as they always do with Ms. Razor, Drivel and Cult stumbling off into the night to raise more hell by morning. I was sitting in the kitchen after turning off every single light in the house off when their was a knocking at the front door. I stood up, grabbed a 12″ butchers knife and went to answer the door. I flipped the porch light on and whipped open the door to find some teenage pizza delivery guy holding a pizza of course. When I opened the door the delivery guy jumped back a few feet and was looking as nervous as a chihuahua in a thunderstorm. I glared at him with such intensity I’m sure that between the look and large butcher’s knife he thought he was going to end up dead, devoured and have his skin worn as a smoking jacket. I demanded to know what the fuck he wanted and he replied someone ordered the pizza so obviously he’s delivering it. I informed the delivery guy that I was the only person here and I didn’t order any goddamn pizza. He replied in a shaky voice that he was wondering what the knife was for ,apologized and high tailed it the hell out of there.

Interesting prolog:

  1. I went to the pizza place where the delivery guy worked to apologize ,but he didn’t want to come up front to get it stilling being a tad bit frazzled.
  2. I found out over a decade later that this rancid twat of an ex girlfriend who intellectually  reverted to 12 years old and decided to play the call in a fake pizza order gag.