My plane landed in torrential rain, and for a moment while we were descending I let my imagination wander and felt the possibility of disaster. It seemed an okay time to die – I had just used one of my free passes into the “Prestige Lounge”, the next issue of the magazine was mostly laid out, I’d read most of the Motley Crue autobiography, I had recently procured a satisfying orgasm. I had called my parents a couple of days ago and my last blog entry mentioned crashing and going to heaven. It seemed an okay time to go, and as fear started to creep in I remembered Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx standing up during turbulence and yelling “Fuck God, let’s crash!” and then I felt strong again.
