Ça balance à tout va dans la biographie de Matt Sorum qui circule en pdf, un vrai geyser de boue dans la face de FatAxl, Salsh et Puff mais une mine d'or pour les fans !! C'est du LOURD.
Fichier complet:
https://www77.zippyshare.com/v(...).html
I continued to call Duff, but he was constantly evading me, and I realized he wasn’t telling the truth. “Duff, what’s going on?” I said.
“Well, Axl wants to use his drummer (Frank Ferrer)” he said. “But the guy can’t even play the drums. I’ve gotta talk to Axl and say I really can’t play with this guy.”
“Wait! Back up!” I said. “What do you mean you don’t think he’s very good? And you can’t fucking tell Axl? That would be the first thing I’d say if I was the bass player and you were the drummer. Why do you think I
asked you to play in the Vampires? Because you’re my favorite bass player.”
“Come on, man.”
“No. . . . Go to Axl and tell him you want me on drums. Period. Now’s the time.”
“Oh, man,” Duff said, his voice kind of shrinking. “I already signed the deal.”
“What deal?”
But he didn’t want to say any more.
I stared at him, at a loss for what to say. After a while, I said, “One good thing about all this is that Izzy and I started hanging out again.”
As the words left my mouth, Duff got a dark look in his eye. “Fuck Izzy!” he snapped.
I knew his reaction was because of Izzy turning them down, so I calmly said, “Well . . . Izzy says fuck you too.”
Duff didn’t reply. Instead, he just poked at his food—he didn’t really seem hungry—and then checked his watch and said, “I’ve gotta go.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Rehearsal.”
“Rehearsal? Didn’t you guys just get off a three-month tour? Why are
you rehearsing?”
“Because we don’t have you on drums,” Duff said.
We got up. As we were leaving the restaurant, two guys came over to
us, wanting to take photos.
Duff froze and explained that it wasn’t the right moment. I
immediately knew why: he was afraid Axl would find out he had been to see me.
Out on the street, Duff awkwardly tried to hug me again, then he walked over to his car and drove away. In that moment, he felt like a complete stranger to me, like someone I didn’t know at all. But maybe I was the one who had changed, and he was the same as ever?
What I do know for sure is that our friendship wasn’t the only thing that had ended—our twenty-eight-year musical partnership was over too. I wouldn’t be able to call him or Slash and ask if they wanted to play with me.
"Around this time, I got hold of a giant block of heroin. I discovered that I had it after one of the gigs, but I didn’t remember how I actually got my hands on it. It was a huge lump, the size of an extra-large Hershey’s bar, and it was pure opium. As I tried it on the plane one day, Axl noticed the smell. Slash loved heroin, so he was already with me. Duff was too, though he was sticking to his coco puffs—cigarettes in which the tobacco had been mixed with coke. Axl came over to join us. We had a piece of tinfoil and held a lighter beneath it, using a straw to inhale the smoke. It made us feel kind of calm and happy, and we decided to meet up the next day to do more of the same. This time we were in Axl’s hotel room, sitting in a circle on the floor and basically passing the piece of tinfoil around.
We were really chipping away at the block, but the thing about heroin is that it’s really addictive. A few days later, Axl called me. “Do you have any more of that shit? Would you come over?” I went to his room, and we spent the whole night talking. The bar of heroin lasted a few weeks, and since Axl was digging it, I managed to become really close with him. It didn’t affect his voice or anything, and we were getting along great. Or we were until he called me up one day, and asked, “Are we out?” “Yeah, I’m out.” He hung up on me without saying good-bye or anything. And that was it, the end of our bonding session. We went from being best pals—albeit with a friendship based on drugs—to me not being his buddy anymore.:"
I ended up in the limo with Axl and
Stephanie. Axl was on one side, I was on the other, and Stephanie was in
the middle. He was so in love with her he used to go on and on about her
all the time; it was all Stephanie this, Stephanie that. When she eventually
broke up with him, it was brutal. He was really fucked up. But on that
particular evening, they were head over heels for one another, which is
why what happened next was so weird.
There was a large group of fans outside the car, trying to get Axl’s
autograph, and he rolled down the window. He was puffing on the cigarette
that was always in his mouth, but it was in a 1920s-style cigarette holder
for an extra eccentric look. He began signing pictures, album covers, and
other assorted things.
As I sat there, I suddenly felt Stephanie’s hand on my dick, and next
thing I knew, she had started rubbing my balls. I froze, kind of petrified,
but she just looked at me and smiled. She was ridiculously beautiful. Axl
was looking out of the window, and she just kept doing what she was doing
until he eventually turned back around.
A few days later, I told Duff about it: “Dude, I have to tell somebody.
Stephanie Seymour rubbed my balls right in front of Axl!”
Duff said, “It’s so weird you say that, because she grabbed me and
made out with me!”
“When?”
“I was at the soundboard, watching Metallica, and she came out with a
couple of other girls. She just grabbed me, started making out with me. I
think she would fuck all of us if she could!”
