11/15

Hello everyone!  Greetings from Rok Bottomz.  Well, have to say the last few shows around the region have all been great successes!  Want to thank all the thousands who attended the Halloween Party at Bookies and the masses who came out in droves to our debut in Crown Point at Buddy and Pal's.  As always, we want to sincerely acknowledge those who attend our shows frequently (your know who you are!) for their continued support (especially the "anonymous" vixen after the Buddy and Pal's show whose death defying mastery of  balance, strength, coordination, flexibility, and zen like focus against the laws of gravity brought new meaning to "supporter of Rok Bottomz"), and openly welcome all the lovely female Metalicious Virgins  who were "deflowered" by the penetrating forces of the Metalicious Members.  As I sit here writing this memoir, I can't help to ponder the thoughts going on in the head of a typical lassie witnessing their first show of ours.  It is probably like doing it your first time with Jenna Jameson or Ron Jeremy; you don't know what to think; you were probably a bit overwhelmed, you needed a bit of assistance at first and might have been a bit confused and in awe of the spectacle,  you might be a bit sore or embarrassed the next day, and it might have been a bit trashy but you can't help thinking and dreaming about the next time.   You know, a Metalicious show is a lot like great sex:  it should be loud, pulsating, hard, fast, and always great to see a good solo every once in a while.  Whoo, I'm getting wound up even thinking about it!!  Kind of reminds me of the time when we were on tour in 89 and ended up in a small town near the Ozark Mountains.  Well, I decided to go on this expedition at a state park where, with a licensed instructor, you could hike through the dangerous terrain and enjoy the beautiful local scenery.  Little did I know, the group leader happened to be at the show the night before, and was interested in doing a little "Rok climbing" of her own.  We soon found ourselves on our own "happy trail" and being ones in touch with mother nature,  shed our clothing (with the exception of our hiking boots) and followed our "call of the wild" and primal inhibitions.  As I stood facing the west behind the sun (and her) and admiring the aesthetic beauty of the canyon (the park and her's), I couldn't help to glance at the very stone we were "mounting" and notice the burns and scratches her loins were accumulating during our wildlife exploration.  That's when it occurred to me?  Should she continue her obvious enjoyment or should I cease in regards to her physical well being or let her continue her satisfaction of getting a "piece of the rock"?  Here was the perfect picture of nature vs nurture, of pleasure vs. pain, of the environment vs. civilization..  She was definitely between a Rok and a hard place.  As it turned out, she survived the "bumps" and bruises, much to the assistance of lovely medic, who also happened to be a big Rok Bottomz fan.   But that is another chapter in the ongoing saga of Rok Bottomz.  It's the stuff that Harlequin novels are made of.  You know, I'm kind of like Fabio… but with talent.  What is the moral of all this?  I feel that Metalicious Fever is starting to spread more than the rash on Dane's twins in the late eighties .  Our following seems to be growing weekly and while initially are the non-believers and detractors who may not appreciate our performance art and methods,  much like the aforementioned Jenna Jamesons and Ron Jeremy's who were first virgins and later became icons, they will soon become "metal missionaries" like ourselves.  As far as those that we fail to convert, there's nothing better than a good grudge fuck anyway!!

 

Hugs and Tea Bags,

 

Rok Bottomz

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