The Heroin Diaries

by Nikki Sixx

  I’m gonna go over and see Slash and the guys…they join the tour tonight. Now the bad news for them–Tom Zutaut told me they were a younger, crazier Mötley. Does that sound like a challenge or what?

  SLASH: We were really excited to go on the road with Mötley. We had a lot in common–we were both from LA and were total hell-raisers. We had toured Canada with the Cult and played with Iron Maiden and Alice Cooper, but Mötley Crüe was cool and they were at their peak. It was a chance to hang out with a bunch of guys who had been around a lot longer and test the water to see if we were crazier than them.

  * * *

  LIVIN’ IN THE KNOW

  TV says 10 dead for Christmas, stalker on the loose Another freeway shooting, and I'll be hangin' by a noose I can’t seem to shake it, I can't bend the spell Special thanks to Mom and Dad for bringing me to hell

  * * *

  NOVEMBER 4TH, 1987 CIVIC CENTER ALBANY, GA

  Backstage, 6:10 p.m.

  Spent the night in Mobile last night. So good to see Slash. Guns N’ Roses was awesome last night but our fans can be so brutal. They just stood there for the most part and stared–they just don’t want to see anybody but us. Maybe some day we will do “An Evening with…” but Doug says that is suicide. Anyway I think they’re gonna be huge but what do I know? I thought the same about the Ramones…

  Last night I drank very little (half a bottle of Jack) but I can feel the demons in my head knocking and I don’t wanna let them in (or out).

  NOVEMBER 5TH, 1987 DAY OFF

  Hotel, New Orleans, 1:30 p.m.

  Today I’ve decided to write my mother a letter…probably with no real intention of mailing it.

  DEANA RICHARDS: Tom always told me that eventually he would tell Nikki the truth of what happened when he was a child–that Nona and my sisters had taken Nikki away from me when I always wanted him back. I always prayed that Tom would tell him that, because I wanted Nikki to know the truth more than anything else in the world. But Tom never did.

  One time in 2001 Tom had gone out to join Nikki on tour and they were passing through Seattle. I went to the airport to meet Tom for an hour and asked why he still hadn’t told Nikki the truth, but Tom just said, “He won’t listen.” I asked him, “What do you mean he won’t listen? Nona has been dead long enough now for you to tell Nikki the truth, and I think you’re dragging your feet.”

  I looked at Tom and said, “I should have been strong enough to fight you guys. You could never have taken Nikki away from me if I had been strong enough to fight you.” And he looked at me and said, “Yes, we could have!” He had a look on his face, and venom in his voice, and I suddenly realized he’d been part of the plan all along.

  My daughter Ceci has literally saved my life, because there have been a few times that I thought I just couldn’t go through the pain anymore and I wanted to end it all. Because Nikki and I were separated all those years, but I never, ever wanted it.

  TOM REESE: Bullshit! I never said that to Deana. She is just on a big guilt trip. She twists the truth and she tells lies as she has done all her life. I’ve told Nikki the truth many times. Deana was so full-on on drugs for so many years that I don’t know how many brains she’s got left, really. I’ve told her before, the way that she goes through life…but I’m not going to get into this anymore. I’m seventy-eight years old and I just don’t need it.

  CECI COMER: There are so many things that Nikki doesn’t know about the life my mom and I had back then. She always acted like everything was OK but often it wasn’t. She had a stroke in the ’80s and got really sick one winter, and we ran out of food and oil in the house we were renting. I ate ketchup on toasted bread and woke up with frozen hair so many times that year. Mom always loved Nikki and wanted him with us, but we had some hard, hard times.

  I think Mom and Nikki’s relationship is too common and very sad. It takes the focus off the right things and keeps them in a dark place. By now all the stories are so convoluted and everyone seems to suffer from selective memory. But I do know this–whatever happened back then, Mom always wanted Nikki by her side. She’s never really given up. No mother does. The bottom line is that he wants and needs his mother and she wants and needs her son.

  NOVEMBER 6TH, 1987 CAJUN DOME, LACAYETTE, TA

  Backstage, 7:45 p.m.

  Guns is onstage right now but the weirdest thing happened a few minutes ago. The band walked in and we had a line of coke about six feet long. I asked the Guns guys if they wanted a bump and they all just looked weird at each other. Finally Tommy said, Come on, you guys are supposed to out-Mötley us! So Axl bent down and did the smallest little bump and then coughed, then said they had to go onstage. When they walked out, we all looked at each other and then started busting up. Vince said, Fine, more for us, then we did the coke ourselves with Fred, Hawk and some of the road crew.

  I gotta call Zutaut…fuck, it wasn’t that much blow anyway…

  SLASH: Axl was never really a drug guy but Guns N’ Roses was a full-on heroin band and you can’t do that on the road so we were pretty clean on tour. Coke was never my drug of choice either. Our drug thing was more like a-day-in the-life, a personal internal crisis that we didn’t want to be known, whereas Mötley was hell-bent on being the band with the most excessive, outrageous public persona. Mötley pushed the envelope to be the most alcohol-and coke-consuming band going. That was their whole image.

  NIKKI: They say be careful what you wish for…but we were never careful.

  NOVEMBER 7TH, 1987 LAKEFRONT ARENA, NEW ORLEANS, LA

  Backstage, 5 p.m.

  Tonight’s show is gonna crush, the crowd is going crazy out in the parking lot. They’re already ripped, shouting Crüe! Crüe! Crüe! You can feel it when it’s on edge…rock ’n’ roll! Impending chaos is good…

  Gonna go out tonight for a bit.

  NOVEMBER 8TH, 1987 MISSISSIPH.COLISEUM, JACKSON, MS

  On the jet, 4:20 p.m.

  We just landed–I’m hungover like a motherfucker.

  Heather is here so Tommy hung out with her last night. Mick was with fucking Emi. Vince did the same thing as always–a strip club. So I took Slash out to some cool bars in the French Quarter of New Orleans after the gig. We got fucking smashed. I took him to the Dungeon but they wouldn’t let us in. Slash asked why and Fred explained that I had cut the bra off a girl in the club the last time I was there. Unfortunately for me it was the owner’s girlfriend.

  P.S. I scored a balloon of Persian–no needles, just chasing the dragon. It’s so easy in New Orleans. I bought it right in front of everybody and nobody even saw it go down, not even Fred. I can spot a junkie a mile away…and obviously they can spot me.

  NIKKI: When Mötley toured with Ozzy in 1984, we had a date in New Orleans in Mardi Gras. Ozzy Osbourne and Mötley Crüe in New Orleans on Mardi Gras = bad move! Our management was very nervous, and so was Sharon Osbourne. Ozzy went out with Vince and they got into all sorts of trouble. Tommy and I took Ozzy’s guitarist Jake E. Lee out to the Dungeon Club. As always I had a knife, and there was this girl in the club in a top that was basically exposing everything but there was just enough material there to piss me off. So I took my knife out, grabbed the top and cut it off. Her boobs came flying out and I said, “Now the party’s started!” All of a sudden this shadow appeared above me–the club security guard. She was his girlfriend. Then security took me and Tommy and Jake and threw us into the street and started hitting us with these baseball bats with spikes on them. We were all cut up and beat up and we ran off. When we showed up years later at the Dungeon, they told us we were banned. I said that was a long time ago and they said, “Not in our minds.”

  FRED SAUNDERS: We spent hours driving around the French Quarter of New Orleans trying to find a friend of Nikki’s to score some heroin. I said that I wasn’t going to let him do it so he fired me. Nikki was always firing me left, right and center. Then we tried to go to the Dungeon Club and they refused to let us in, which, frankly, I was neither surprised nor b
othered about.

  NOVEMBER 9TH, 1987 DAY OFF

  Marriott Hotel, Huntsville, Alabama, Room 432, 4:30 p.m.

  We played Huntsville a year or two ago and some kid claimed we had shot shattered glass into the audience and blinded him. Doc says he is suing us–the kid says we had cannons onstage (uh, that’s AC/DC) and shot glass outta them. I even heard we might have shot pieces of metal too…what the fuck? I hope that kid doesn’t come to see us tonight.

  Oh yeah, he’s fucking blind, so he won’t.

  NOVEMBER 10TH, 1987 VAN BRAUN CIVIC CENTER, HUNTSVILEE, AL

  Hotel, noon

  Fuck, I just got a call from Rich. Me and Slash were drunk and wrestling in the bar last night and I guess he landed on his neck. He’s pretty messed up. He’s gonna have to wear a neck brace to support his neck. Fuck, I feel bad…it’s always fun until someone gets hurt…

  P.S. I’m still wondering if that blind kid’s gonna show up to see the show.

  SLASH: Nikki and I had been in the bar for hours drinking shots and we started wrestling. Nikki is a pretty big guy and he fell on top of me. The next morning I woke up with four dislocated vertebrae in Tommy’s drum tech Spider’s bed. I had to see doctors and have acupuncture for the next three weeks of the tour. And all the time I was onstage, I had to keep my top hat on and not move an inch.

  NOVEMBER 11TH, 1987 JOFFERSON.CNIC CENTER, BIRMING, AL

  Hotel, 3:10 a.m.

  Battling everything. I feel like I’m at war with everything and everyone. I don’t understand…why don’t I feel anything but anger? The only time I don’t feel is when I’m numb. It’s just not working like it used to. I’m tired of writing about it, but this is my only way to vent. I’m so fucking tired, and I don’t know why. Why is it that the word why is always on the tip of my tongue–WHY?

  Why was I treated like I was as a kid–like I was just in the way?

  Why did my mom always want to be with someone other than me?

  Why did my dad leave me?

  Why do I have no belief or trust in a God?

  Why am I here?

  Why can’t I stop doing drugs?

  Why can’t I find love?

  Why, why, why…

  * * *

  FATHER

  All these years, an angry child Broken, shattered, torn inside I feel old, I feel dead Barely hangin' by a thread

  Father, where were you?

  To my father, how could you run? You walked away, abandoned your son Broke my heart, left me dying So fucked up, where I came from

  What's a father without a son? It's like a bullet without a gun

  * * *

  CECI COMER: My own father has always questioned whether I am his child or not, and has made it clear over the years that he was more important to himself than I was. It’s different with Nikki’s dad because Nikki never had the chance to be slapped in the face like that. He’s just had to guess.

  He may be better off that his dad wasn’t around like mine, but the pain eats at you that you don’t know the real truth–your own truth. I know Nikki wonders what it would have been like to have a dad, but it’s the could a would a-should a syndrome that is so hard to deal with because ultimately you will never know.

  2:15 p.m.

  Someone was just banging on the door over and over until I just screamed fuck off. Then Fred called and said it’s time for bags. I guess we’re leaving at 2:30. Fucking pills and smack…so what do I do? Roll over and start writing. You’re my only friend and I feel I need to talk to you. I can’t seem to find my smile, I can’t seem to find my passion, I can’t seem to find myself…I’m drowning.

  I’m not sure which is worse, my addiction which haunts me or my gradual slide into insanity. I can’t even get into words what I feel–I know I don’t know, and that’s a crazy fucking feeling. I’m gonna try and pull myself up by the bootstraps and suck it up, but to be honest the decay is starting to show.

  Backstage, 6:30 p.m.

  Just got to the gig late because of me. I think I’m in Alabama. I ran straight into Duff, he was standing there in boxer shorts, no shirt and cowboy boots. I said, Hey Duff, nice look, and he said some girl stole all his clothes when he was passed out last night. Now that’s fucking funny. OK, I need a drink.

  P.S. Hey what has 48 legs and 12 teeth? The front row in Alabama…

  NOVEMBER 12th, 1987 Day off

  Marriott Hotel, Savannah, Georgia, 4 p.m.

  I called home and checked my answering machine. I had two calls. One was a wrong number and one was some girl (don’t know who) saying, Hey Nikki, fuck off.

  That pretty much sums up my life back home.

  NOVEMBER 13TH 1987 SAVANNAH CIVIC CENTER, SAVANNAH, GA

  Hotel, 2:40 p.m.

  Just woke up. My eyes are crusted over. Nice look. Been nose deep in Animal Farm by George Orwell for the zillionth time. I just love this book. It’s something so parallel to rock ’n’ roll. After all we are sorta the animals taking over society, never really thinking out what the end will be-and if we do, it’s tainted. Great book.

  Last night me and Tommy filled the elevator with all the furniture from our rooms and then Tommy ran and phoned Slash and Duff and told them to meet us in the lobby. We waited and then jumped in the elevator and pushed Lobby. When the doors opened they were waiting. We were just kicking back and everybody started laughing, so we all just rode up and down the elevator drinking and doing lines until the hotel said they were gonna throw us out.

  Ah, rock ’n’ roll…

  TOMMY LEE: One night Slash was drinking with me and Nikki and trying to keep up with us shot-for-shot on the Jack Daniel’s. We were sitting at the bar for hours drinking, then suddenly Slash put his head underneath the bar and puked everywhere. He was starting to go down so we took him to his room, where he immediately passed out. We set him on the bed and took a Polaroid photo of Slash lying on his back passed out, and Nikki put his balls sac on his chin. That picture became Slash’s tour laminate: lying unconscious, with Nikki’s nuts sitting on his chin.

  NOVEMBER 14TH, 1987 COLISEUM COLUMBIA, SC

  Hotel, 4:30 p.m.

  I look back on my diaries and half the time I don’t even write down when the dealers show up…it seems too redundant. But I said I would try to capture every moment, good or bad, in my diaries, so here goes.

  It’s been snowing again. I haven’t been sleeping more than an hour or two for a few nights. I’m starting to hide in my room again. I feel like I might be getting back to my old habits and it’s like a car skidding out of control, there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t want to do the drugs but it’s all I think about. If I don’t do it (well, I can’t not do it)…I found a few old rigs in my suitcase and shot up my last bit of junk, after snorting tons of coke last night…so I’m outta junk. Wish I’d found the rigs when I had some blow–a speedball would have been nice. I’m so sick.

  DOC McGHEE: People ask why we never confronted Nikki about his addictions, but we’d always try to talk to him and it just did no good–it got ugly really quickly. Artists die on the road and fans say if the other band members really loved them, why didn’t they help them instead of letting them die on their own in a hotel room? They probably tried loads of times to intervene but eventually, when somebody is obnoxious all the time, you get numb to it.

  NOVEMBER 15TH, 1987 GREENSBORO COLISEUM, GREENSBORO, NC

  Backstage, 7 p.m.

  Bored. Can’t wait to get onstage to have something to fucking do.

  NOVEMBER 16TH, 1987 DAY OFF

  Hotel, Knoxville, 5:30 a.m.

  Got into Knoxville two hours ago on the jet. Went down to Tommy’s room, did some lines and listened to music. We ran out and went down to Fred’s room for an Ace in the Hole but he just had a tiny bit. Fuck! I have a day off tomorrow and I’m in the mood to get high. Now I’m fading…goodnight.

  FRED SAUNDERS: I had a little trick that I would sometimes play when Nikki was hounding me for coke late at night. He would ring my room
saying, “Dude, Ace in the Hole,” and before he turned up I’d crush up a sleeping tablet, make it into a line and give it to him to snort. We’d start talking and within five minutes he’d be yawning and saying he was tired. Then I’d walk him back down to his room and put him to bed. I don’t think he ever figured out I was doing that.

  3:25 p.m.

  Great show last night in Greensboro. I really felt like I was in one of the world’s greatest bands for an hour-and-a-half. I felt there were no soured decaying souls up there. We punished the audience with volume and it hasn’t been that tight in a long time. After the show was different. We were trying to get some blow–it was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen! It’s like we mention it and the airwaves go quiet. Nobody will respond or they say they’re busy and will get back to us. I think someone’s been telling the crew and staff not to give us drugs.

  Midnight

  Sitting here alone staring around this room wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do when I’m not onstage or on drugs.

  I have moments of complete lucidity and I ask a lot of questions, and they hurt, ’cause I don’t have most of the answers.

  SLASH: I was amazed on that tour how Mötley Crüe always had this whole intricate system going of people with walkie-talkies looking for blow. They always seemed to know where the nearest blow was, but to be honest, trying to stuff as much coke as I could into my face seemed pretty boring to me. Had it been a dope thing, it would have been a lot darker and more dramatic.