A Wino Drummer That Hates Scott Weiland

I was in El Monte, about to dig through the garbage behind Rite-Aid for random pills to chew on, but someone beat me to it: fucking Matt Sorum. My arch nemesis, my foil, the sugar pill dud on my ecstasy mountain, the coldsore you got at the Pico Rivera sports arena that one time back in '95, the fucker who tried to touch my charlie stash.

But I guess he was too fucked up on dumpster vitamins because when I told him to get fucked, he asked if he knew me from somewhere. When I told him how we used to hang out in my Uncle Touchy's naked puzzle basement, he just said, "Was I high? Yeah, I was high." Then he swallowed a handful of reds, started rolling on the floor screaming the lyrics to "November Rain," and touching himself.

Hosing him down with mace didn't seem to help.