Sex, Drugs, Ratt & Roll
YOU’RE TALKIN’ TO ME
IN 2009, I PACKED myself off to rehab in Pasadena, California, in an attempt to wean myself from that nagging booze/pills/grass/heroin habit I’d picked up over the last several decades. There was an initial period of hell, better known as withdrawal, followed by a long stretch of a much more annoying kind of torture: therapy.
It’s the price of getting clean, I guess. They help you ditch the drugs, make it so your bandmates no longer have to stick...