“Needles and black spoons covered in nasty brown syrupy shit that reeked to high hell. We all knew it would be like this. Six weeks, and we hadn’t heard a word from him. By the time Carrie was climbing the walls in an anger and anguish cocktail of crazy, I said enough was enough.Pays to be the lead singer in a kick ass band, even locksmiths are at my disposal. One autograph and a hash-tag of #OMFGchadblakeyesssssssss and we were in.Carrie stormed back to the room and I could hear her screaming a...nd crying and could do nothing. Eight weeks and five days we were married and it was fucking hell.Shame and Sass were here now too and Sass was in her crack-head cleaning mode the minute she saw the house. Shame was on the phone getting carpet cleaners and dumpsters lined up. Everything had to go, not a stitch of fabric in this house that didn’t have the awful retching scent of heroin on it. That stench killed everything and no Fabreeze, Glade candles or Clorox Clean Up would do it. Shit destroyed everything in its path…including my best friend and brother-in-law.I stood in awe looking at the drawings on the walls, the platinum records, the painting Candey gave him, but I kept going back to his art.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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