Copyright 2016 by NOFX
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ISBN: 978-0-306-82478-4 (e-book)
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This book is dedicated to all the people who died within its pages:
All of our grandparents, Bob Baxter, John Macias, Jordan Hiller, Rich Rosemus, Stevo Jensen, Tim Yohannan, El Duce, Dave Allen, Lynn Strait, Mike Maklychalk from Anti-Krieg, Dana McCarty, Bomber Manzullo, Jimmy Dread, Bob Lush, Quake, Misfit, Carlton, Susan, Suzy, Bill Bartell, the kid we met in Minneapolis after that D.O.A. show, Buddy Arnold, Shannon Hoon, Mikey Welsh, Jim Cherry, Brian from the Fulton house, Henry Abeyta, Hefes mom, Melvins mom, Mikes parents, and Tony Sly
Table of Contents
Guide
Contents
T he first time I drank piss was on a fire escape overlooking downtown Los Angeles. In the course of testing my sexual boundaries, my then-girlfriend (and now my wife), Soma, asked me if I had ever drunk another persons pee, and I said no. It wasnt something I was into, but how do you know if you dont try? We were hanging out on the fire escape of her loft apartment; she told me to take my clothes off and lie down. The cold steel dug into my naked back as she squatted over me. She started pissing on my chest and then moved up to my mouth. I could hear the overflow splatter on the sidewalk below.
Soma later sampled my pee backstage during a show we played with No Use For A Name. Before our encore, I went to the bathroom to do some coke with No Uses Tony Sly. I had to pee, but as I was about to aim for the toilet, Soma got down on her knees and opened her mouth. Tony watched as I redirected my stream and said, You guys are just made for each other, arent you?
It really doesnt taste as bad as youd think. Its certainly better than whiskey. Its like strong oolong tea. At least thats what hers tastes like. She made me taste my own once, and it tasted bitter and horrible from all the shit I put into my body. Soma is definitely getting the worse end of the deal.
Like many of the weird things Soma and I have done, it wasnt a turn-on in the traditional sense. The dominant/submissive element was super cool, but pee drinking in and of itself was more about being punk and doing the things youre not supposed to do. During our shows, I would sometimes finish drinking my usual vodka and soda, and our drum tech, Jay, would mix me a new drink. Soma would intercept it, squat behind my amplifier, and make a little pee cocktail. El Hefes wife watched her do it once and immediately turned around and walked to the opposite side of the stage. I would tell the crowd or our friends on the side of the stage what was in my drink, and no one would believe me... until they took a sip.
The side effect of my continued boundary pushing is that somewhere along the way my Weirdness Barometer broke. Once you get over the shock of drinking someones pee, drinking it the fourth or fifth time isnt weird anymore. But its still very weird to the majority of the non-pee-drinking public. So my perception of whats fucked up and whats acceptable to discuss in mixed company has become somewhat skewed. Ive told people about the time I tied a girl down and milked her, and theyve said, Thats so fucked up. Ive had to stop myself and wonder if maybe I crossed a line, either in my behavior or in my selection of anecdotes to share publicly.
You tell me:
NOFX played a gig in England, and one of our crew guys brought a female friend to the show. Shed recently had a baby, so we started talking about breastfeeding, and the conversation turned (as it tends to do when Im involved) to kinky sex. She told me her fantasy about being tied up in a barn and getting milked like a cow.
She had been trapped at home as a single mom for so long, this was her chance to cut loose. I asked Jay to grab some rope, duct tape, and my special bag from the bus. I told the girl that if she wanted to go for it she could meet me upstairs in our dressing room in fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes lateron the dotthere was a knock at the dressing room door.
I put her facedown on a table and hog-tied her wrists and ankles. Her tits hung over the edge of the table, and I tied a rope around them so they were bulging out. I gagged her and started milking. I had never milked anything before. I had to ungag her for a second so she could explain how to squeeze and pull properly. Once I got the hang of it, the milk started to flow. I saved it in a plastic cup and added some ice and vodka. It was my first nipple-fresh White Russian.
I took a few sips and forced her to drink some, too. It tasted awful. But, as you may have figured out by now, it wasnt about how it tasted.
Later that night on the tour bus I told the band about my evening. I expected them to dig my White Russian Human Milking story, but instead of laughter and smiles I got a bunch of awkward looks and raised eyebrows. They told me I should probably keep that particular story to myself.
But here we are...
My parents took me to a porno movie when I was four years old.
It was the early 70s, and porn still played in decent-sized theaters. One sunny California afternoon, we walked into such a theater on Ventura Boulevard near the Topanga Bowl bowling alley. There was a tractor on the screen, and then there was some sort of sex act I was way too young to understand. I guess my parents started to feel awkward because we left just as it was getting interesting.
We never spoke about it again. Ill never know why they thought it was a good idea to take me there. But its one of the only memories I have from when my parents were still married.
My dad was a traveling shoe salesman who was on the road most of the year, so there was barely any difference between how often I saw him before and after my parents split up. He moved into an adults-only apartment building, and I stayed with him every other weekend, but I couldnt leave the apartment. He played volleyball, drank, and smoked pot with his buddies by the pool, and I sat inside and watched seaweed creatures on Night Gallery
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