The Long Hard Road Out of Hell

couldn’t get rid of her because she wanted to give me another sloppy blow job or something. I motioned for her to come over, and she came over and got down on her knees in front of me to beg for an interview. But it looked like she was supporting my claim—except for those beanbag tits she’s not bad looking for her age. Since she couldn’t understand what we were saying, we continued to humiliate her until we got bored.
    We were just standing around afterwards when all of a sudden I saw walking towards me this blond tan girl—the antithesis of what I look for in a woman—in a bright canary yellow dress that she must have had to wear as some kind of karmic retribution for something she had done in a past life. Though she was not the kind of girl you’d want to hold hands with in public, the fact that she was attractive shone through. All this flashed before my eyes in the first few seconds because I decide if I’m going to like somebody before they even mention their name. I have a bad habit of not remembering people’s names when they say them. I’m usually too busy analyzing them—trying to read their intentions and determine if they’re out to fuck me or get fucked, if they want drugs or have drugs, if… I can’t think of anything else that’s important in life.
    So this canary woman asked for my autograph because she’s a really big fan. A little annoyed at being interrupted, I quickly dashed off an autograph, but as I did everyone was looking at me funny, like I was fucking someone’s mother or shitting in the punchbowl. Afterwards, some guy came up to me and told me that the woman was Jenna Jameson. I asked him who Jenna Jameson was, and he said that she was the most famous porno star right now. In the back of my head I thought about my acid trip experience in Fort Lauderdale, and the fact that Traci Lords had actually been up for the part of a seductress in the Howard Stern movie.
    She asked if she could sit with me during the movie—she seemed real innocent, or she was a good actress—and we walked to the theater, assaulted by so many paparazzi flashbulbs that for a minute I really felt like I was back on that acid trip in my bathroom with the flashing lights. I got scared for a moment, but the fruity pills calmed me down. When I sat down, in front of me was Kevin Bacon, behind me was Sherman Helmsley, and walking across the room was Corey Feldman, a name that, ironically, one of my bandmates was staying under at the hotel. I was always amused by Corey Feldman. He was a great actor in Stand by Me when he had the deformed ear and went around saying, “Jeordie screwed the pooch, Jeordie screwed the pooch.” I always said that to Jeordie, especially when he did screw the pooch, who in some cases could be considered Courtney. (I probably shouldn’t write this since, if anyone does end up stealing this journal and trying to destroy it, it’ll probably be Courtney.)
    Corey was in a pseudo-Michael Jackson sort of outfit that made him look stupider than any of his movies had ever made him look, and that’s hard to achieve, especially after Dream a Little Dream (Part S) . I felt like it was my duty to introduce Corey Feldman to Sherman Helmsley since I had known their artwork for so long. In order to shake hands, they had to reach over the head of Billy Corgan, so his bald head became the bridge over which two fallen heroes of my childhood, Mr. Jefferson and Dorky the Vampire Slayer, met.
    I continued to torment Corey afterwards, putting lipstick on him and introducing him to strangers. Because it is my duty to punch below the belt, I told him I was a big fan of the rap song that I saw him perform on television, which was among the shittiest songs ever recorded yet still not cool enough by far to be the worst thing I had ever heard.
    When the movie started, Jenna Jameson kept making comments like, “Well, what are we going to do later? Are we going to go out to a bar? Are we going to hang out? You know I strip dance to your music. Wow, I can’t believe that I’m really sitting here with you....” She had a whole catalog of different “I’m a whore, I’m a virgin, I’m your mom, I’m your daughter” lines; she had all kinds of fuck-me-doll looks; she pulled out the entire contents of her seduction bag of tricks. There’s a scene in the film where Howard is sitting with a famous