As to your remark, no. The Whisky wasn't exactly happening in 1976. Not till late in the year.
At the time, I was a student at UCLA and lived in West Los Angeles. I was buying a house off of Pico with Sandy. Both of us danced three or four days a week and made pretty good money. We had a guy named Kenny living with us. He looked just like 1969 Jimmy Page. He was our boy toy.
Actually he was my Jimmy Page fetish. I kidnapped him from his parents house and brought him into the fold. I had a hurdy gurdy and we played it when we got horny. Or sometimes as accompaniment to our fleshly rituals.
We spoiled that fucker rotten. After about a year and a half, that shy, innocent guy had become an ego-testicle monster. So we threw him out. After we spitefully fucked the hell out of him one last time.
At any rate, anyone selling any kind of drug on the sidewalk of the Whisky was not to be trusted. That was the bottom of the drug chain. Whatever one bought would usually be bunk. The good shit was upstairs in the club if you knew the right people.
I would fall into the drug trade a couple of years later through a boyfriend that I met through another boyfriend. We never sold less than a key at a time. And it was the kind.
BTW, I had a boyfriend from Redlands who got to calling his member "Godzilla". What a douche. And how unoriginal. He was a preacher's kid too. The minute I heard that, I dumped him. Check please.
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5 comments:
Come to think of it, that picture seems to have been photoshopped from the musical number in MATANGO.
Hey Vicki, didn't you use to sell Godzilla 'blow' back in '76 in the parking lot of the Whiskey.
Capt. Al
LOL
Capt. Al: You Talk Sunshine, I Breathe Fire.
As to your remark, no. The Whisky wasn't exactly happening in 1976. Not till late in the year.
At the time, I was a student at UCLA and lived in West Los Angeles. I was buying a house off of Pico with Sandy. Both of us danced three or four days a week and made pretty good money. We had a guy named Kenny living with us. He looked just like 1969 Jimmy Page. He was our boy toy.
Actually he was my Jimmy Page fetish. I kidnapped him from his parents house and brought him into the fold. I had a hurdy gurdy and we played it when we got horny. Or sometimes as accompaniment to our fleshly rituals.
We spoiled that fucker rotten. After about a year and a half, that shy, innocent guy had become an ego-testicle monster. So we threw him out. After we spitefully fucked the hell out of him one last time.
At any rate, anyone selling any kind of drug on the sidewalk of the Whisky was not to be trusted. That was the bottom of the drug chain. Whatever one bought would usually be bunk. The good shit was upstairs in the club if you knew the right people.
I would fall into the drug trade a couple of years later through a boyfriend that I met through another boyfriend. We never sold less than a key at a time. And it was the kind.
BTW, I had a boyfriend from Redlands who got to calling his member "Godzilla". What a douche. And how unoriginal. He was a preacher's kid too. The minute I heard that, I dumped him. Check please.
VR
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=geVYIHOat5o
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