Friday, December 17

10:00 am
Sydney

Show Day!  #1 of 3.  One weekend, then I'm on the plane, homeward bound.  My heart beats faster just thinking about it.  A few more days and I'll be holding My Girl again.

Woke up this morning to an email from Maria, wanting to confirm I'll do a few songs for the Vets benefit thing.  Fired back my "of course."  That will be a fun night.  Get my wife all dolled up and take her out on the town, for a good cause.

Yesterday I got most of the details for Cate's present nailed down too.  Turns out Matty actually DID email those pics to Obie after he and Richie pulled their shit.  Obie's gonna take care of printing and cutting them down, and he'll get them to me before the appointed hour.  Had another email from him too, whining about how every time I try to make some grand gesture to get in Cate's pants he gets dragged into helping, ha ha.  Guess he does have a point -- he facilitated my first planned seduction, when I was with Cate in Georgia.  He'll never let me live that down, either.

And I've seduced her LOTS of times without his help.  Arrogant Bastard.  Of course it's a little easier now that she married me, ha ha.  Still fun to plan though, and to see her response.  One thing we definitely don't have a problem with is keeping our romance fresh.  Absence sucks, but it definitely does make the heart grow fonder.

When I talked to Cate last night I told her I had her gift figured out.  She giggled when I told her it's something special, and if it all goes well it will be good for me too, ha ha.  Of course she subtly tried to get me to drop a few hints, but I wasn't biting.  Actually, I told her "You know that three-way you always wanted?  Kief's gonna be in town and he's totally into it."  She laughed at that.

Come to think of it, she didn't discourage that idea, either....

She loved the necklace, too.  She's gonna wear it to the KC benefit.  I could hear the smile in her voice when she thanked me.  Apparently I done good with that one.

Ah well.  Now I just gotta keep busy until I can get on the jet.  Shouldn't be hard, lots to do.  Three shows in a row is gonna be a little hard on the pipes, but if I can keep my energy up it will all be good.

Off to the gym.  Gotta keep this saggy old ass in shape.

1:45 pm
My New Room, Lockdown

Jesus Fucking Christ.  Some chicks are fucking WACKOS.

Not that that's any big surprise, but Goddammit we pay good fucking money to stay at these places where they allegedly protect our privacy and security.  You'd think they could keep the NutCases at bay.  Whatever happened to fucking four-star security?

Went out for a run with Dean, came back and hit the hotel gym for a little weight training.  As usual, had Big Mike go check it out first to be sure there weren't a gaggle of groupies in there.  There were a few chicks hanging about, obviously not working out, so he called hotel security and had them shooed away before we went in.

Did my upper body workout, some stretching, then jumped in the elevator and headed for my room.  Was an express elevator to our floor, so I didn't think twice about going without Mike.  He needed to check in with hotel security office so I told him just to do it instead of coming upstairs with me then having to go back down.

Cate would kick my ass if she knew I did that.  Then she'd kick Mike's ass for letting me.

I get to my floor, stroll off the elevator, turn the corner for my room.  I was still sweating from my workout so I wiped my face with my towel as I was wandering to my door.  Next thing I know somebody's practically fucking tackling me.  I hear shrieking and feel arms around me and stagger back against the wall before I can get the damned towel away from my face.

I'm so fucking stunned it takes me a minute to realize what the hell is going on.  But then there's a tongue being shoved down my throat and a hand grabbing at my crotch and I figure it out pretty damned fast.  Somehow a pair of fucking Nutso Chicks got onto our floor.  They musta hid somewhere because nobody saw them hanging out in the halls.  Probably behind the damned potted palm tree in the corner or some shit.

Anyway, I do what I'm supposed to, I yell my head off.  I shove the chick who's got a liplock on me away, maybe a little too hard.  She stumbles into the wall on the other side of the hall and falls down, then starts crying and sobbing "Please, Jon!  I love you!".

Her friend is a little more subtle, but now that Thing One's out of the way Thing Two's slithering up against me, declaring she's gonna give me the wildest fuck of my life.  I yank her hands off me and try to get her away, and she just laughs and unzips her top.  Like her showing me her damned plastic tits is gonna change my mind.  Jesus.

Ryan hears me yelling and cussing and comes to my rescue.  He pries the one chick off me, the other chick is still sobbing on the floor, and he tells her if she gets up he's gonna smack the shit outta her.  Great.  Just waiting for the lawsuit for emotional distress from that one, how my bodyguard made her fear for her life.

Davey was working in his suite and also heard the ruckus, so he called security before coming out to get in on the action.  He ends up standing watch over the bimbo on the floor.  In about two minutes Mike and four other dudes show up in the elevator and take over.

Mike drags me down to the other end of the hall away from the Wackos and starts man-handling me to be sure I'm not injured.  Jesus, first I get groped by two crazy chicks, then I get groped by a Dude.  Hotel security marches the chicks out, who are now both sobbing and shrieking how much they love me and pleading with me to let them stay.  Yeah, right.  Buh-bye, Freaks.

The other two security guys sweep the floor and find another girl hiding in the stairwell.  When she heard the commotion, me yelling and her friends shrieking, she was too afraid to come out.  Apparently they somehow got onto the floor,then opened the door to the emergency stairs and duct-taped over the catch so when the door closed it didn't lock.  Then they just hid out in the stairwell until they thought they might catch me or one of the other guys alone.

Guess it worked.

Anyway, so PK gets there and is fucking furious, and the Big Dog Hotel Manager comes up, and they all insist I get checked out by a doc because apparently Thing One got a little overzealous when she was sucking on my face and actually bruised my lip.  Sitting here holding ice on it now, trying to get the swelling down before the show tonight.

Quite frankly I'm not worried about my damned lip; she had a pretty damned good grip on Superman.  Thank God I had just finished working out and was actually wearing a jock or she may have yanked it clean off.  She sure as hell tried.

Never ceases to amaze me how far some of these chicks will go to get to me.  I had a few truly scary stalkers back in the 80's and early 90's, but they were the kind who mailed threats to the Fan Club with letters cut out from magazines and pictures of Dorothea with her face blacked out, that kind of shit.  Police and FBI handled all that; I never had to deal with it. There are a few restraining orders floating around out there too, but I don't deal with that either.  That's why I have lawyers and a security team, and Matty.  In all honesty I probably wouldn't recognize those people if I passed them on the street anyway.

Of course the Security Chief apologized profusely and said it won't happen again.  Yeah, you fucking got THAT right.  He said he had no idea how these chicks found out what floor we were staying on, let alone got up there on the express elevators.  I can tell him exactly how they got there, and I ain't no fucking detective.  They fucked or blew some room service waiter or reservation clerk in exchange for an escort up on the service elevator.  It's the oldest system of barter in the fucking world.  Pussy for privilege.  If a chick knows how to use what's between her legs she can get just about any damned thing she wants.

So now I'm sequestered away in a new suite on a different floor with two security guards in the hall.  They made a big damned show of hustling me away to this room like fucking Secret Service dragging off Obama, then they sent somebody to get my things from my old room.

Apparently I'm supposed to be "relaxing" because this was a very traumatic event and I have a show to do later.  Like I'm some damned Diva who is going to be forever scarred by a couple chicks mauling me.  Yeah, 'cause THAT'S never happened before, ha ha.  But I'm stuck in here until it's time to leave for soundcheck.

And I'm sure Mike will be stuck like glue to me for the rest of the trip.  He feels bad, like this was his fault.  It wasn't.  I'm not traumatized, I'm fucking PISSED.  This kinda breach is inexcusable.  Even if Mike had been with me on the elevator, these NutJobs still made it onto the floor, through hotel security.

So much for my good mood.  And when I call my wife in an hour or two I'm gonna get the scolding and "I told you so" lecture from her for not keeping Mike with me.  Fuck.  Maybe I need to play up the trauma angle, see if she'll give me a little sympathy...

Nah, she'll see right through it.  Fuck it all.  Why did I have to marry a damned human lie detector?

60 hours.  That's all I have to survive, until I'm headed home.