nina here,loves. sorry to have missed some shows,and probably will be missing more in the future. the harlots have a rather personal issue to handle,so we cant be there. sorry and we will be sure to visit the towns we missed as soon as we get this sorted. hang in there and retain those ticket stubs. we will come back for a headlining show soon,promise. love ya,nina.

Texas,gird your loins. We're coming in. Sorry for going a bit.....absenteeism on the tour. I wasn't having an abortion,getting breast implants,or under suicide watch. All those are far more interesting than reality. Especially the implants. But I've already got an ass that won't quit. So i'll leave some sexy for the rest of the world to share amongst itself. You're welcome.
Yes,this is pretty much the first tour I've done since becoming a widow,but that really had nothing to do with if. I simply wasn't sure I wanted to do this anymore and that lead to having extreme stage fright. Slowly the realization that I'm horrible with money and couldn't milk being a trophy wife forever hit me. Though,I think nichole will be lucky in I can pull this of till at least 50. Needless to say, she and my band convinced me i still have it. Soooo,Texas here we come. Buy us drinks,please. Like i said,I'm horrible with money.

A new day has come and it was another day Diablo would ruin. Not only was he on meth, but he spent all our tour money on it yesterday. There was half a pound of meth in the back of the van. This makes me wonder how the fuck can that fatass not find a quick fix in a three-day excavation but can get nearly a fucking pound of meth in just a stroll around the neighborhood. We don't even get paid at all from these fucking shows yet Diablo got a near pound. I don't know how Diablo got it but the fact is that he fucked all of us over. All of us. Fucked! You know what happens when you don't have money? You can't get gas! So when we were suppose to play a show at Memphis, we were fucking stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere with a ton of meth and a methhead. But then that made me think: we can just sell the meth. Problem was, Diablo was guarding that shit more tenaciously than the fuckface from Lord of the Rings and his ring.

Actually, it wasn't that hard to get Diablo off guard. I just got my son to tell him that there's a meth score nearby and off he went. I took a portion of that shit and waited for potential customers near the near-rundown convenience store (thank god we were stuck in the middle of a ghetto neighborhood or else I would have waited a pretty long time for the cash). It took two-and-a-half hours to sell the meth and I ended up with almost 200 bucks (that will be enough for expenses for three days). I got back to the van and holy fuck, you will not fucking believe this, the van was on fucking fire! The luggage seemed thrown out with everybody's shit on the road (including our costumes {that one really hurt}). Everybody was on the ground, groaning in agony and all bruised up. Everybody except for Diablo. Diablo was prancing around the flames buck naked, shouting and screaming "no honor among goddamn thieves!" He saw me and charged toward me with his woody all erect. All I knew was that he was on fucking meth so even if I fought back, he'd kick my ass and kick it raw. Instead, I ran into the woods to lose the guy. When you're on meth, you're faster than a pack of hyenas and stupider than a sack of potatoes; so instead of trying to find me, Diablo just ran straight into the woods like a hedgehog and got completely lost after that.

I went back to the road where the van was and a bunch of fucking cops were there. They came because of the fucking van. They were interrogating my fellow bandmates who got beat up and they just told them what actually happened. The stupid pigs didn't believe them and thought the whole thing was a fucking accident but I approached them and told them that Diablo was on bath salts. Not only did they shit their trousers but they immediately started searching, searching like real fucking cops, even worse than that. Seriously, I almost thought they were gonna call the CIA because of this. I asked the pigs to give me and my fellow bandmates for a ride but they subtly told us to fuck off so we did. Good thing the cops were busy with methhead Diablo, they didn't catch us hitchhiking for a ride.

Two hours later (I'm surprised the police were still chasing Diablo) a rusty, crusty, and graffiti-riddled hippie van came around to us and got our ass to the next show. The problem was, it was Disco Squad's van. That Alida fool didn't notice me or my son because we didn't have masks or paint on but he noticed the Crue guys so then he tried telling us politely to fuck off. He was using a bunch of euphemisms and saying big boys words and therapist language as if it would actually work. I threatened him to give us rides for the whole tour by raising my fist and he stop talking out of his ass and gave us want we wanted, rides to our shows. All we need now was a shopping spree at the Party City.

After that, the shows been great. A lot of fans aren't getting hurt, the songs are played as they're supposed to, and I haven't seen one cop in this entire week, that's a new record!

But I gotta admit, it's kind of boring without Diablo on the road. Don't get me wrong, the shows are great without him but just doing good show after good show isn't thrilling at all. The roar of the earlybirds' applause doesn't do anything for me, I'd much rather hear them booing me right now. I guess I'm so used to Diablo's fucking batshit insane antics that playing shows the right way is kind of the wrong way for me. But who cares, I'm just thinking too deep now anyways. I wonder if he got caught.

OOC: Sorry guys for missing out on a whole week's worth of roleplay. Please forgive me.

It's a bird, it's a plane, no, it's the fatfuck who ruined my day. That's right, Diablo's back. I really don't fucking know how he got here in the first place or how he ran away from the cops from burning the van but unfortunately he managed to succeed and greeted me the worst way possible: by crashing in the middle of our last fucking gig.

So yeah, me and my son were just playing a show for the earlybirds with the Crue guys and a very good show at that. The crowd was mildly interested which is saying a lot when you're us. We were rocking out with good sound and preciseness unlike Satanic Sex with Diablo. It was all good until all the sudden, Diablo comes on stage completely fucking naked and charges at the Crue guy on vox/bass like a fucking gladiator with a 40 oz. in hand. He nearly kills the guy and grabs the mic to shout continuously "I'm the REAL fucking man! I'm the REAL!" over and over again like a fucking crackhead. He was tweaking like a fucking mental house patient and speaking pure gibberish when he wasn't shouting "I'm the REAL fuck man!" People were fucking disgusted by this piece of bile and filth and I got real fucking tired of this pathetic bullshit so I just grabbed two of the crash cymbals from the drums and cymbal crashed his head. In the first time in Satanic Sex history, I stopped playing the show after that. I was so fucking pissed that I didn't even want to think about the embarrassment Diablo put me under. After that, I just wanted to be in a quiet and dark room in solitude, thinking about how much everybody has failed me, thinking about how much I failed myself. Then along came two guys, two dumbass stoners to be specific.

It was fucking Doc and Jeff. They came at me like a bunch of paparazzi if they had more down syndrome than they usually do while I was sullenly walking out the venue. They kept on shouting to me stupid stuff like "Hey hey hey you there it's Big Sac maaaaaaan oh hey Big Sac what's up." I angrily burst out "what!" to the two buffoons out of pure frustration with their dumb yapping and their dumb excite to see me. They stood quietly going like "uhhh uhh uhhhh" like the morons they are until about half a minute later when they started to barely talk. They said in a wimpy way "uhhhh.... we're back maaan, want us to play your next shows." I told them fuck no and asked why they're even here. They said "well uhhh.... we got outta probation and Big D gave us a ride." I thought what fucking ride then a glanced at the back and saw Chilly Willy's fucking van. "You stole that fucking van from Willy did ya?" and they said "uhhh no maaan" and then said together "it was Big D maaaaaaan." I just said "you guys are fucking stupid" and got in the back of the van wanting to rest. Well when I got in the van, the two fucking dancers who got fucking lost were their two. "What the fuck? You whores were lost in the middle of fucking nowhere, how the fuck did ya get back here" I shouted. Then they responded in a sassy, slutty, and bitchy tone "are you fucking retarded or something? You know you can just have sex with a taxi driver and you can go home all the time. Oh wait, you're ugly. Hahahaha." This pissed me the fuck off and I beat on the brats for being so fucking stupid. Then when my son came outside looking for me, he stop the fight and said "hey man, why you gotta beat up the whores for?" I was too mad, irrational and illogical to say anything and my son told me "look man, next tour date is in fucking Japan man and that means we gotta get our asses on a fucking plane and if we all go, that means fucking Diablo's going too." Still mad, I said why the fuck would we want Diablo in Japan and my son brought out the most brilliant point that can save this shitty band forever: "the man's a fucking junkie, he ain't ever going without his drugs man. If he goes to the airport especially now after 9-11, he'll be facing real fucking jail time man." Now we're talking, now we're really talking. "But where would we get the money for tickets" I said and my son responded "you know Diablo's fucking treasure chest of drugs? Well I'd say we sell some of that shit and await the day after that." I immediately noticed the treasure chest that used to be lost with the two whores over by them and grinned evilly. I got Diablo by the ass.