Villains Review on LHP
Lock up your daughters… Eardrums exploding, I was crammed between drums and guitar in an already crammed practice room, on the third hangover of a two-day bender and working on a fourth, while Villains played songs from Road to Ruin. The night before was at an establishment in Sunset Park, BK. Peyton’s Playpen is not a place for frat boys and business types, but more than suitable for that night’s brand of derelicts which included everyone’s main man Teeth. A young woman walked past in high heels. And nothing else. Then they all gathered. They like long hairs. They like $20 dollar bills. On the brass pole a young harlot with ginger hair and cream skin rolled around. A dead ringer for Frank Zito at the edge of the stage fondling her ass like it was the Stanley Cup. She hid her annoyance well. It could have even been the performance of her career. But it’s doubtful that awards wait in her future, not even of the AVN sort. Doomed to the accolades of NY sleaze, she will never get the fame that is due. Read the rest here.