MAY 1987

HE ASKED ME TO GET ON MY KNEES AND PRAY TO GOD TO LOSE THIS OBSESSION WITH DRUGS

MAY 1ST, 1987

Van Nuys, 3 a.m.

Today I did something that I never thought I’d do…I called Bob Timmons and asked him to help me. Bob came over and I told him I just can’t stop bingeing on cocaine and heroin. I think the blow speeds up my heroin addiction ten times. Bob agreed and said he knew how strung out I am. He asked me to get on my knees and pray to God to lose this obsession with drugs…I wouldn’t do it. Fuck that! I won’t get on my knees. Bob said he’s got on his knees with guys a lot tougher than me, like the president of the Hells Angels, but he can forget it.

BOB TIMMONS: Part of the twelve-step program for curing addiction is accepting there is a greater power in the world than you. It doesn’t have to be God, it can be anything–but Nikki was always too stubborn to take that step. He was simply too self-centered, and wouldn’t let me in to help him. That was Nikki Sixx–he always had his armor on.

MAY 2ND, 1987

Van Nuys, 4:40 p.m.

OK, I’ve got to wean off the heroin and coke before we go on tour. I can’t go out on the road like this…it will kill me.

The weird thing is, the coke is the worst part of this, but you don’t go thru withdrawals if you can’t get blow. Smack is a different story. I’m so strung out right now…I couldn’t go a day without it. I would have to take so much on the road with me or have it FedExed in every week, which is crazy…what if I missed my delivery? How would I play?

How do some guys tour and stay strung out? I do not wanna know. I’m gonna quit, I have to. This is gonna be bad, but it will be over soon. I hope I don’t have to call Bob again. I have a plan and I’ve just called Jason…

7 p.m.

Jason has just left and it went pretty well. I explained to him that I have got to get clean before Mötley goes on tour next month. I reckon I’m doing $500 or more of smack a day now…the coke I’m just gonna stop. My plan is to do less and less each day, then when I’m low enough go on to methadone and get off completely. So he got his scale out and we made 30 bindles, each one smaller than the one before, each with a fresh needle next to it. It took us an hour…it should take me about a week to wean down. When we were done, it looked like a regiment of drugs, a regime…it looked like an army.

The brave new world starts tomorrow…when Jason left, he shook my hand and said he hoped I’d be able to do it. Ya, right…

DOC McGHEE: Nikki was always dreaming up fantasy ways to kick drugs that didn’t involve going into rehab. One time in 1986, he decided that he and Nicole, his old girlfriend, would detox for five days at my house. Those five days felt like a fucking year. Nikki was just so sick–I had to keep carrying him from the house to the hot tub because he was cramping up so bad.

And Nicole was something else. She kept thinking Nikki wanted to kill her. One night Nikki came into my bedroom at three A.M. and said, “Dude, you’ve got to go and see Nicole.” I went into their room and she was putting her makeup on. She said, “I’ve got to go to a photo shoot,” and I said, “Look in the mirror–who wants to take a photo of that at three in the morning?”

She looked at me and started sobbing, and asked me for a sewing needle, just a sewing needle, because if she stuck it into her arm, it made her feel better. That was on the second day of the five–and, believe me, it didn’t get any prettier from there.

BOB TIMMONS: I remember the attempted detox that Doc is describing. As we both predicted, it was a dismal failure. Nikki seemed to have this strange idea that he could just go to Doc’s, sit in the hot tub and eat candy, and be off heroin in two days. I’m a former junkie and believe me–it’s a lot harder than that.

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MAY 5TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 8 p.m.

I feel pretty good considering how much I’ve cut down. I’ve been buffering my itch with Valium and vodka-and-cranberries…

MAY 7TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 9:30 p.m.

Tom is coming from Idaho to stay for a few days. I feel frightened about it. I love Tom and I always love to see him, but I can’t let him see me as strung out as I am now…but it’s cool that he’s stayed close and never given me a hard time about missing Nona’s funeral. I respect him for that. I’m going to be strong for him.

I used up more of my stash than I thought. I’m running low.

NIKKI: I spent months and even years as a kid living with my grandfather Tom and my grandmother Nona in Idaho and Texas, when I felt my mother couldn’t be bothered with me. Tom is hard but fair, a good man, and I was incredibly close to Nona, who loved me and was better than a mother to me. She always forgave me, and I could be a pretty fucking wild kid.

Nona had been ill in 1986 and I’d ignored it. When she died and Tom called to tell me, the bottom fell out of my world, but I was so fucked up that I couldn’t even cry. I was going to fly to the funeral but I was too strung out and wasted that day to get on the plane. I would have had to confront my past, confront my mother and spend time with the family that I had run away from. There were too many issues. They had abandoned me and I had abandoned them.

People were calling me saying I had to come, but I never went. I loved my grandmother and she was very important to me, but I couldn’t face it. Instead I got wrecked in front of the tube, feeling ashamed and guilty, and I wrote “Nona,” a song for her, which we included on Girls Girls Girls. In my fucked-up state, that was the best that I could do.

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DEANA RICHARDS: It breaks my heart when Nikki thinks I couldn’t be bothered with him as a child. I loved him more than life itself, and I still do. I’ve wanted to tell him the truth all my life, but I have just never had the chance–and the truth is that my own family, my mom and my sisters, plotted against me to take Nikki away from me.

I didn’t know at the time what was going on. I was so naïve. You can’t fathom that your family would do such a thing, but they took Nikki away. They did it slowly. It started off with them telling me to send Nikki to stay with them for the weekend. Then they would ask me to send him for a couple of weeks, or for a month, because they would say he needed to be around a man and have a man’s influence.

I missed Nikki so much but I thought they were trying to help me, and he would soon be back with me, even when he ended up spending whole summers with them in Idaho. But they were telling him I was wild, and then they started telling me that they weren’t sending him back to me because he didn’t want to come.

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I didn’t realize they were poisoning him against me until one day when he was around ten. I was just sick of him being away, and I called him to say, “Nikki, it’s time for you to come home.” And Nikki told me, “No. Once you get some roots and a dependable life and can take care of a child, then I will come home.” This out of a child’s mouth–well, it wasn’t too hard for me to figure out who put those words into the child’s mouth.

Then when my mother died, Tom and my sisters didn’t even tell me when she was being cremated. Tom only told me afterwards, when my sisters had already been to the house and been through her things and taken everything they wanted.

TOM REESE: Bullshit! Nona and I never said anything against Deana around young Nikki. We were very careful what we said about her. If she had pulled some damn thing on us, we’d make sure we got well away from Nikki before we talked about her.

Whenever Deana would call for us to send Nikki, we would leave it up to him. We’d never try to run that boy’s life–he stood on his own two feet. If Nikki wanted to go see his mother, we’d pay his way for him and pay it back again. If he didn’t want to go, he didn’t go–but he always did go, every time until he got to be about thirteen.

Deana would throw him out every time. She threw him out of LA and every damn place she went to. We’d get a call from Nikki saying, “Grandma, can I come home?” and we’d get money to him to get a plane home. One time, Deana just left him with some woman in Sparks, Nevada, and went off with a guy. The woman phoned us, saying, “What am I supposed to do with this boy?” and I had to drive over and fetch him.

Deana has a screw loose and it’s drug-induced. You name it–LSD, marijuana, she used to take it. She was taking drugs before Ceci was born, before Lisa was born–even before Nikki was born. She was flying half of the time.

Nikki was very loyal to his mother for years and years, more than she deserved–when he asked us for anything, we used to give it to him. If he asked Deana for anything, she told him to go to hell. Nikki did pretty good with her until the time he went to live with her in Seattle when he was about thirteen, and she threw him out of there too. After that, he would absolutely have nothing to do with her. I guess he just decided that she didn’t care.

NIKKI: Which side of the blade is sharper? The lie or the truth? It all seems irrelevant when your jugular is sliced open and you’re lying in a pool of blood for the whole world to see.

MAY 8TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 10 p.m.

Tom is here now and I think it might be a good thing for me. I can’t get wasted in front of him, so I just do my little maintenance shots in the bathroom.

Tommy came over tonight. We did a couple of shots of Jack with Tom and made small talk. Tommy can tell I’m sick. Tom asked me if I wanted to go to the doctor, I said it’s just a really bad flu…if I went to the doctor and they saw my veins they would call the police in a New York second!

I’m gonna go to the clinic in Burbank tomorrow and register for a 30-day program but I’m only gonna do it for three or four days then just cold turkey out from there…

MAY 10TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 11:40 p.m.

DAY ONE COKE AND DOPE FREE

Went to the clinic today and got my first dose. I’m outta dope. I threw all my rigs away, even my Dom Perignon box. I gotta tell you I’m fucking sick. I got an illegal scrip for Valium and percs from this quack we all use. They always help ease the pain.

I’m shitting and puking so much but I’m trying to keep it together for my grandfather…Thank God for him…

NIKKI: I remember Tom coming out to the Heroin House. When you’re in the middle of a crisis it’s not easy to notice other people’s pain. Looking back, my grandfather had to be dealing with a lot of pain. Losing Nona was the hardest thing he ever had to go through, and on top of that the boy he raised was in a tailspin and heading towards an early death. He probably saved my life and I’ll always owe him for that. I will forever regret not being there for him in return.

TOM REESE: When Nona died, Nikki was devastated, but he was also pretty fucked up. I went to stay with him once or twice, and the way of life he had was not to my liking. And he was so skinny! A good gust of wind would have blown him through a knothole.

Nikki didn’t inject in front of me, but it was obvious he was doing it. He would sit around with his buddies talking, and their drug talk might have made sense to them, but to me it sounded like gibberish. I used to see people in the same state in my years in the military. It never held any appeal for me.

While I was staying at Nikki’s, I’d often answer the door for him. Sometimes it was girls; I’d let them in except for the real young ’uns, who I’d send packing. I never let the drug peddlers in. One guy was kind of persistent, until I waved my shotgun in his face, and then he never came back.

I was worried for Nikki and I told him what I thought, but it just went in one ear and out the other. Stopping Nikki was like trying to stop a tornado. I couldn’t do anything except look out for him…and hope.

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DANCING ON GLASS

Can’t find my doctor Bones can’t take this ache If you dance with the devil Your day will come to pay My fuel injected dreams Are bursting at the seams Am I in Persia Or lost in Spain

I’ve been to hell, hope I never make it back To dancing on glass.


MAY 11TH, 1987

Van Nuys, midnight

DAY TWO COKE AND DOPE FREE

I can’t believe it’s been two days without any junk! Went to get dosed today, saw a few guys I know. Fucking smack…just ruins people’s lives. At first it seems so sweet, then one day you wake up to a monster.

See you tomorrow…too sick to write. I have to go lay down…I haven’t slept much…

MAY 12TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 11:30 p.m.

DAY THREE COKE AND DOPE FREE

I haven’t had anything for three days now. This withdrawal is the most painful, intense one I’ve been in, like shock therapy. My guts are ripping, I’m puking and shitting, I’d do anything for a fix, but I won’t give in. This is the worst day so far. It always is…day three and four is when most guys give in. I can’t sleep for the pain.

I’ve heard stories about hookers who will blow a fucking donkey for a fix rather than go thru this. That’s how much this fucking hurts.

Today was my last dose…maybe one more day, but I don’t wanna get strung out on methadone. If you’re hooked on that, it’s almost impossible to get off.

I’m so sick. Thank God I’m getting dosed or I would definitely die from this one. I’m so sick I’m even sick of writing that I’m sick in this diary.


UNUSED LYRIC

I’ve never been to Eden But it’s nice I hear tell When I die I’ll go to heaven ’Cause I’ve done my time in hell


MAY 13TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 10:20 a.m.

DAY FOUR COKE AND DOPE FREE

Last methadone visit this morning. I haven’t eaten anything but candy. I’m too sick to go into the store and face people. Pete brought me a bag of candy and ice cream…every time I’ve kicked I go thru this sugar thing…what’s next? I’m gonna fucking get fat? My whole body feels like it’s cracking into pieces–fragile doesn’t even come close to describing how I feel.

MAY 14TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 4:35 a.m.

DAY FIVE COKE AND DOPE FREE

Had to go to the album listening party. I’m still sick as a dog but a handful of painkillers and a lot of whisky got me thru. Vanity showed up, I was talking to this black stripper and Vanity got all weird and abrasive. I’m so dope sick I feel brittle. It wouldn’t take much for me to shatter in a million pieces.

P.S. Speaking of dogs, I forgot I put money down on a German short-haired pointer. I couldn’t get him at the time, because he wasn’t old enough, but he’s getting delivered tomorrow…I’m gonna call him Whisky.

NIKKI: The Girls Girls Girls listening party was at the Body Shop, a strip club on Sunset. The band posed for photos with five strippers whose panties spelled out MÖ-TL-EY CR-ÜE. Vanity lost her mind when she came in because the stripper standing next to me was a black girl. The other thing I remember about the party is that asshole Yngwie Malmsteen showed up. He’d been dogging the band in the press yet dared to show up to our album listening party, so we had security throw him out on his ass on the curb. But I was so sick from junk it was all I could do to hold it together.

MAY 15TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 5 p.m.

DAY SIX COKE AND DOPE FREE

MTV has said no to the Girls Girls Girls video because of the topless strippers in it. We sent them one that was so out there so they would be happy with the one we really wanted them to play. If we sent them the one they approved first, they would of made us tame that one down…suckers.

Tom left today but I think I might still be OK getting cleaned up for the tour. It helps when I have things to focus on like my new dog Whisky…he just came today. Tom loves him.

It’s when I’m left to my own devices that I go fucking insane. I’ve always been too good at making my own entertainment. I can safely say I’ll never use heroin again…it’s just a nightmare. I feel so much better but my sheets on the bed stink from the gallons of toxic sweat that have poured outta my body. I have a pile of clothes in the closet with shit all over them from the first few days. I’ve been able to get a few hours of sleep at a time now and I can hold down something other than sweets. I feel hopeful.


RANDOM THOUGHT

Cleaning up is dirty work.


DOC McGHEE: Nikki used to sometimes have these dogs that were kinda messy and sloppy. I used to call them the heroin puppies. Can I tell you something that’s not too nice? I used to think of Vanity as a heroin puppy as well.

MAY 16TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 8 p.m.

DAY SEVEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

So another Mötley Crüe album is set to come out and we kindly donate another fucking chunk of profit to Neglektra Records. Why should they own our music?

This industry is the most fucked-up business ever. Musicians spend their childhoods learning to play instruments in their bedrooms, then they spend their lives in a recording studio creating music…then some fucker in a suit comes along and says if I can distribute what they’ve done to enough people, I’m going to sell PRODUCT to create CASHFLOW for my CORPORATION…at which point I ask myself, Where did we lose the music?

We write the music. It’s our songs, our vision, our message, our angst, so how can some record company OWN Mötley Crüe or Aerosmith or Led Zeppelin’s music? I mean, what the fuck? This system is slavery. It’s our music, our business…we should own it…

I can’t believe I’m clean. I feel lucid, alert and alive. I hurt like hell and my nerves are on edge but I’m clean–just in time for the machine to fire up…

MAY 17TH, 1987

Van Nuys, midnight

DAY EIGHT COKE AND DOPE FREE

Slash came over and we just hung out, played with Whisky and played guitars. Then we got out of here and went to lunch…Slash even told me that he thinks I’m looking better. I told him I just got outta a real bad kick and I was done with the worst of it. He said he knows how hard it is.

Vanity kept calling but I let the answering machine take the strain. I’m not ready for her right now. I’m making progress but I’m still fragile–more emotionally than physically now.


UNUSED LYRIC

South Street Sam sells it by the box Half-price murder and double-price rocks Easin’ in 20, he’s looking 85 He’ll be pushing up daisies By the time he’s 25


MAY 18TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 9 p.m.

DAY NINE COKE AND DOPE FREE

I ran into Jason today while I was shopping on Melrose and basically ignored him. He saw me and came over and asked why I hadn’t called him lately. I just said that I had his number if I needed it, but I was planning not to use it. The parasites are panicking because their free meal is over!

NIKKI: When I read these diary entries, it boggles my mind how much power I had when I finally decided to quit. I don’t know if it was fear or greed that eventually got me to that point but whatever it was, it seemed to be working…temporarily…

MAY 19TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 11:20 p.m.

DAY TEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

Had a meeting with management earlier. They want to hire a jet for the tour so we can leave right after shows and base ourselves in a city for a week or so at a time while we play all of the nearby dates.

Doc said it would save us money, but I’m not stupid…I know the real fucking reason. They are terrified of me and Tommy and Vince heading off to clubs and getting wasted after every show…they think they can keep an eye on us this way, and we can’t get up to too much bad shit up in the air every night.

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I see their plan, but I went along with it…it might even be what I need. I said we would only do it if the jet was painted black with a big naked chick on the side. Doug went pale but said he’d see what he could do.

They seemed amazed that I had color and had gained some weight. I’ve even been lifting a few weights in my garage.

NIKKI: My suspicion of our management’s strategy was entirely correct. Their plan was an honorable one, but overlooked one major flaw: being based in a city for seven nights at a time, rather than one night, would give us plenty of time to track down all the local services and supplies that we shouldn’t be tracking down.

DOC McGHEE: It was always way easier to tour Mötley Crüe on private jets than on buses. We could get the journey done in one hour rather than five or six, and on buses they were a fucking mess. They were always running around drunk or biting people. And considering the state Nikki was in at that stage, we wanted to have him somewhere we could keep an eye on him.

MAY 20TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 9:30 p.m.

DAY ELEVEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

Been down in the garage lifting weights and riding my exercise bike every day. It’s nice that for once my muscles are aching for a good reason. One bad thing about coming off drugs is putting on weight. Which is worse? Being strung out or fat?

MAY 21ST, 1987

Van Nuys, 11:30 p.m.

DAY TWELVE COKE AND DOPE FREE

Not much to do again today except a few phone interviews for the album. All the journalists are the same. They all ask identical questions as though they’re the only person to have ever thought of them. I hate the press almost as much as they hate me…ha ha…but really, when are they going to ask about the MUSIC? What’s the meaning behind the song “Nona”? Or did I know that Girls Girls Girls was an Elvis Presley album? Duh…

I’m really happy to be off dope. I can’t believe I finally did it–on my own, no less. To be on a journey that you see no ending to, and then you finally get where you’re going, feels soooo good. Like the insanity has stopped. I’m really happy.

Pete is still strung out and I hear King is too. I can’t be around anybody who uses junk, I just can’t…even if they’re my best friends.

MAY 22ND, 1987

Van Nuys, 11:20 p.m.

DAY THIRTEEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

T-Bone has just left. My head is still buzzing from talking to him. He had a dream last night that he was playing the drums upside down, and he wants to turn it into reality. So he’s told management he wants them to design a kit that can spin around like a gyroscope while he’s playing it…they’re looking into it.

Tommy is so enthusiastic and I hope it happens, but rather him than me. When I’m trying to survive a hangover, the last thing I’d want would be fucking spinning upside down. I hope the front row likes the taste of projectile vomit….

P.S. You know what’s weird? I don’t even know where Vince or Mick lives.

MAY 23RD, 1987

Van Nuys, 11:50 a.m.

DAY FOURTEEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

Days like today are beautiful. There’s nothing to do, nobody is on the phone, the sun is out, the doors are open. I’m lying on my back patio right now writing to you, soaking up the sun, listening to Aerosmith and Bad Company.

I’m not strung out and that feels good. I feel like I’ve finally got the monster under control. I’m excited…what a perfect day.

MAY 24TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 5:45 p.m.

DAY FIFTEEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

Today we went to look at the plane we are hiring for the tour, but it seems management “forgot” to tell them about the little adjustments we need–the Mötley Crüe accessories.

So I patiently explained to the guy that we need it painted black, and we need a naked girl painted on the outside. He started stuttering that they couldn’t paint it black and I just gave him a look and said, Oh, that’s a shame, we can’t take it then. He said he’ll see what he can do, and get back to us. We agreed on a compromise–the girl can be riding a bomb on the side of the plane.

Fuck–sometimes people don’t seem able to handle the simplest requests! No is not a word I think should be in the dictionary when it comes to creativity.

P.S. I did it…totally clean…amazing. I’m not even the same person I was two weeks ago. I’ve been playing so much music, practicing, writing, getting all the ideas together for the tour. Shows, planes, hotels, food, stage clothes, new basses, amps…yes…I’m back!

Band reh today. I’m so excited to play. Pete wants to go out after but I can’t hang out with him anymore. He’s on methadone but still I have to stick to my guns. I feel sorry for him ’cause I am his only friend and he knows why we can’t hang out anymore. Junk ruins lives and friendships. I hope he gets clean too.

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MAY 27TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 11 p.m.

Last night I went to the Cathouse on my own. I always know plenty of people there. I had loads of Jack and tequila shots but no more than a few bumps. I fucked a girl in the bathroom and brought another one home, but this morning I can’t remember her name and I can’t wait for her to leave…

Girls do their best, but they’re never gonna take the place of drugs, ’cause drugs don’t talk back.

Short reh today but we sounded good…I was a bit hungover and that felt bad after feeling so good for the last two weeks.

DEANA RICHARDS: After Nikki moved to Los Angeles I hardly heard from him. He would occasionally call me, very late at night or in the middle of the night, demanding money. I would gather up all I could and send it to him, and then I would never hear from him again unless he got in really bad trouble.

When Mötley Crüe started getting big, I was proud of Nikki but I could see what a toll it was taking. I was so scared for him because I knew it was killing him. It was obvious he was taking drugs and I tried to talk to him twice about getting help, but he wouldn’t even discuss it. He said he didn’t have a problem–I had a problem.

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Then later on, when he was married for the first time and I went to see him in Los Angeles, he told me that the only reason he had started taking drugs was because I had been drinking and drugging for years. Well, I never took drugs–and I didn’t start drinking until after Nikki left Seattle and refused to come back.


SELLING MY SOUL WOULD BE A LOT

EASIER IF I COULD JUST FIND IT.


MAY 29TH, 1987

Van Nuys, 11 a.m.

Just woke up. Phone was ringing. It was Gene Simmons, reminding me that we’re getting together to write music today. Glad he called, ’cause I’d forgot…

10 p.m.

Gene came over in his new black Rolls. When he was leaving and backing out the driveway he got too close to the wall and was freaking out ’cause his car was about an inch away from getting scratched to fuck. Me and Pete just laughed–it serves him right for what he said about my lyrics.

Oh yeah–Pete came over this afternoon. He looks better than I’ve seen him in a long time. He’s almost clean–no junk, just getting dosed.

NIKKI: Gene Simmons and I wrote a song together one time but when I showed him the lyrics he said they were “too radical” and wouldn’t get played on the radio. Later, I used the same words on the “Girls Girls Girls” single and radio had no problem playing it. He was always a weird guy. I remember the first time he came over to my house. I did a line and took a quaalude and was drinking, and asked Gene whether he wanted anything. He said he didn’t do drugs or drink. I asked him what he did instead. He said, “I fuck.” So I asked him, “What do you do after you fuck?” He said, “I fuck again.” And I asked him, “Why????”

Because Rule Number One:

CHICKS = TROUBLE