So forgive me if it's a bit hard for me to slice open a vein and let my blood run red all over this page for you. I'll fight you or I'll f*ck you but chances are I'll be hard pressed to sit there and talk to you. I'll tell you one thing--I don't miss getting high or drunk. I don't miss it at all.

War stories. War wounds. I know, I know. Old rock stars fall hard. I'm forty-nine years old. I'm five-foot-nine, 170. The spandex is over. I've had three plastic surgeries. Still, who do you think gets laid more, me or you? But time does change a man. I ain't twenty-one anymore.

It's a miracle we survived at all. A bottle of Jack Daniel's and uncooked hot dogs do not make for a particularly well-balanced diet. We are all very lucky we didn't kill ourselves. It might look like we were trying to do that but speaking for myself, death was never my intent. I just wanted to feel good, you know? I was just looking for that kick, that high...

These days I've got businesses to run. I like the action. Something to get your heart pumping. Healthier than a syringe full of cocaine powder like I was doing back in '81 with my girlfriend Lovey, that's for sure...

But you got to admit...those days are a lot more fun to talk about..."