So, Anthony Kiedis has had an autobiography called "Scar Tissue" out for a while now. Professing to detail the trials and tribulations of being a world wide rock icon comparable only to that sweaty saxophone player in "The Lost Boys", in actuality it does none of that.
"Saxophone? More like Sexophone! Amirite?"
I was greatly disappointed when I finished flicking through this tome; I expected to be granted access to little known secrets of the rock world, such as when pitted against a glam rocker in a circle-fight to the death, it's a little known fact that you can slay them armed solely with some tasty riffs. The more frenetically you noodle that fretboard, the more you clog their arteries with the fatty deposits of metal, eventually causing a shredding lick induced cardiac arrest.
That's right. You can KILL with the power of Metal. Remember that.
Instead, I was exposed to a self glorifying bowl of hot, steaming dick that basically read like a masturbatory penthouse letter.
You'd think that a member of one of the most influential bands in recent times would have something interesting to say. Well, you'd be wrong.
If you are thinking about reading this book, you better call Kenny Loggins, because you're about to ride into the danger zone! So to help you avoid ever having to read this muffinload of dogwank yourself, here is "Scar Tissue" summed up in 120 seconds.
Chapter 2: Sung some song, can't remember what. Shot up heroin. Contracted hepatitis C. Got sucked off in a shed at school.
Chapter 3: Formed a band or something with some guy I vaguely remember. Flea, or something, I dunno. Injected some more Heroin.
Chapter 4: Got sucked off in the crowd at one of my concerts because my wang is so irresistable. Chased the dragon. Still had Hep.C. Did I mention that I get my dick sucked like ALL THE TIME? Well, I do. Just saying...
Chapter 5: Started off by getting a blowjob from a random woman, because just looking at a woman apparently disintegrates her panties with the power of Kiedis. Stole some skis with some guy. Couldn't sleep, had a nightcap of Heroin.
Chapter 7: Best friend died. Injected Heroin into my tearduct instead of attending funeral. Walked down the street and got a blowjob every three steps because I am sexual dynamite.
Chapter 8: Fuck Mike Patton! Put my Red Hot chilli Pepper into Flea's sister. That's what I call my penis. Took off my shirt and danced for a bit. Got a suckjob from an underage girl whilst shooting up Heroin when I was on the toilet.
Chapter 9: Someone sold my house but I was too high to realise. Shot up some Horse to ease the pain. Got a headjob from a stranger. Someone stole my shirt.
Chapter 10: Went under the bridge with my friends, broke the girl and gave her a soul to squeeze. Had some Californication, gave it away now and ended up with scar tissue. For something a little different, I used some Heroin. It was Yummy!
Chapter 11: Quit Heroin. Sucked myself off because even I'm not impervious to the Kiedis charm. Released an album or something. Took off my shirt again for no real reason. Swung my hair in the traditional "Windmill" style.
Chapter 12: Headjob. Heroin. Hepatitis C. Headjob. Heroin. Heroin. Headjob.
Chapter 13: Headjob. Heroin. Hepatitis C. Headjob. Heroin. Heroin. Headjob. Heroin. Flea is called Flea because, like a flea, he has a penis that is disproportionately large for his body. Headjob.
Chapter 14: Headjob. Heroin. Hepatitis C. Headjob. Heroin. Heroin. Headjob. Headjob. Heroin. Hepatitis C. Headjob. Heroin. Heroin. Headjob. Headjob. Heroin, Yummy! Hepatitis C. Headjob. Heroin. Heroin. Headjob.
Chapter 15: Wrote a book. Grew a moustache. Cut my hair. Got clean. Chilli Peppered around the house. Remembered that I had a band; mentioned the name twice in the epilogue. Whacked a bit of smack into my arm to celebrate getting clean and finishing the book. Tomorrow I’ll change. I promise. After this blowjob. And some Heroin.
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