The Wreckage of My Sanity

I wrote a story of a simpler time. The early 1980s, before cell phones and auto-tune. Back when Bruce Springsteen was still the future of rock and roll, and rock and roll was still a religion. We'd all go out on stage and scream and yell and make a lot of noise, and we truly believed that we could be the future of rock and roll. We were young, dirty, vulgar, sacrilegious inebriates trying to find the magic missing link between Chuck Berry and Charles Bukowski. If you're easily offended, you shouldn't read my story. These are desperate, despicable characters who say and do the most reprehensible things. However, if you're not too uptight you just might find this tale amusing. And if you've spent any time on the road, it will all seem painfully familiar.