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Jizzy Pearl Tour Diary – Part III, 7/6/05



Entry #3

Jizzy Pearl is currently travelling all over the country on the Rock Never Stops tour, fronting Ratt as they tour with Quiet Riot, Firehouse, and headliners Cinderella. Whenver he feels compelled to do so, Jizzy will be sending us updates from the road.


Part three…

Wyoming. The great Blue Yonder. Where men are men and Women are Men. Frontier Pussy. Another week begins. Someone asked me how we travel, by bus I said, what are the conditions like she asked, pretty fucking plush I answered. These Prevost coaches are the tip-top, over a half million dollars each, DVD plasma TV’s in every bunk, refrigerators, black leather upholstery, satellite stations with a zillion channels; it hurts me to call this work. I sit in the front lounge watching the highway roll by sipping my morning tea and the landscape shoots past like my own private IMAX theatre. The RATT set and my stage clothes may never change but I never get tired of watching the good ol’ USA in panorama.

Cheyenne, WY. After the show I sometimes put on a sweatshirt to cover my tattoos and watch the Cinderella show from the back of the crowd, unobtrusive. I dig watching people lose themselves in the music, White guys with no rhythm doing the Herky-Jerky dance, girls shakin’ their ass. These songs mean something, they take us back to a time before car payments and dirty diapers when all we had to worry about was what we were gonna wear on Friday night. I watch the cops take down and hand cuff a drunk guy, there’s always that too, the people that get too fucked up. A pretty girl is surrounded by paramedics as she attempts to come back to Reality, bent over, shaking. She was probably OK during our set, laughing and hollering until she took that last pivotal drink that sent her over the edge. She has tomorrow to sleep it off for we are packed and ready to drive to Odessa, TX.

Odessa. We are in Texas and it is HOT. Freakishly hot, like a fucking sauna. A one-off gig with Quiet Riot and us at the Graham Central Station cowboy bar and outdoor Hoe-down. 15 different bars under the same roof, you can pass out on the floor to Montgomery Gentry or Kool and the Gang, your choice, The gig was not particularly noteworthy other than an incident with a rabid female fan who kept grabbing my left boot in a Kung Fu grip and licking the tip of it furiously. We have it on video; it’s both creepy and a little erotic. Maybe I should enter the realm of Fetish videos, Johnny Dong and his Shit-kicking Biddies, together again for one last fantasy fuck. On second thought, fuck it.

Dallas. Formally the Starplex but now the “Smirnoff Music Center.” I hate that, you grow up with a place all your life, you get used to calling it something and now it’s the Excedrin Music Center. Call it what it really is, the Starplex. I played here in 1999 with Poison when I was in LA Guns. RATT is different from LA Guns; hedonism was not only encouraged back then but necessary. Peer pressure I tell you. If someone fucked one girl in a night then I had to fuck two. If someone fucked a girl in the bushes then I had to fuck her in a tree and so on. It was drunk and it was dark but I really loved those guys, they still carry the Torch, Rock for Rock’s sake. God Bless them and their never-ending energy for the Hammer of the Gods. Back to Dallas and the Present. If you see any of us wearing a red, white and blue bracelet they came from some wounded Iraqi veterans we met at a meet ‘n’ greet before the show. Their Website is www.saluteheroes.org and it’s for the young men who paid the ultimate price for their country. I don’t agree with the War and I certainly think we were hoodwinked into going to war but none of that mattered when we met these young G.I’s. One of them had been blinded, the other a victim of third degree burns, his face reconstructed, hard to look at, lips, nose all pink shimmering skin grafts. None of us spoke much, a “thank you’ seemed insignificant and small compared to the Reality of combat. These guys were just kids on a patrol, one minute shooting the shit with their friends and the next, screeching white light, pain and terror. I still think about it…it makes you count your blessings.

OK City. A gig next to a zoo, the Zoo Amphitheater. Production asked us if we wanted a free pass but I declined; I’d seen enough Bison on this tour. Again, hot and extremely humid. I don’t know how people work outside in the heat but they do. A great show, the fans were loud and rockin’. Some guy started flipping me off at the end of the show, I don’t get much of that anymore, the bottles thrown, insults etc. Am I getting better or are we just too old now to summon up the energy for anger? I don’t know. This guy looked like a middle-aged Pugsley Addams, long thinning stringy hair in the back and rapidly balding in the front, like a pedophile you’d meet in a chat room or dark alley. I have the Power of the Pen and this dude wakes up Slingblade every morning…Life is harsh, I guess I’d flip me off too.

El Paso. A street fest, a block party in the streets. If I didn’t think it could get any hotter I was wrong, it was 108 degrees in the shade and blistering. We were 300 yards from the Mexican border and a few of us went over to tourist. There was no need to walk in the sun, I said, there was probably a drug dealer tunnel under the local 7-11 that could have taken us over in style. They asked Robbie Crane to go to Mexico but he declined, I think he was secretly scared that the authorities wouldn’t let him back over. The gig was great, several thousand people packed like sardines in front of the stage as far as the eye could see. I remember looking out at that ocean of people and thinking, “Gigs don’t get better than this…” After the show me and a few friends walked around drinking wine out of the bottle like Gypsies, pressing the flesh and having fun. Texas is a great state and a proud state and they love their Rock. This week I start press for my new CD VEGAS MUST DIE due July 19th on Shrapnel records. This is a necessary evil, this plug I do, so you won’t forget why I am slaving away at this computer for the love of Stevie Rachelle and his gossip board buddies, EvilDick, EvilDave, Evil Knieval and the Great American Hoax. One last show in Mercedes, TX, the last of seven in a row and then off to Florida and the many Manatees that reside there. Toodle-oo.



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