Motley Crue's Final Tour, which the bad-boys band has dubbed "The All Bad Things Must Come to an End Tour," won't be their final tour.
They've rearranged things to make it the band's next-to-the-next-to-the-next final tour.
"It's not official yet and we're keeping everything hush-hush," says Nikki Sixx, the band's bassist. "Truth is, we've spent our entire fortunes on absolute ridiculousness and all of us are flat busted."
Mr. Sixx said that although he's given up some nasty addictions, he's developed a penchant for gambling. He likes to play the ponies, the dogs, slot machines, and various other types of gaming sorts of things.
"Everyone thinks I'm Mr. Wellbriety and once in a great while, I'll even talk about such stuff on my radio show with my girl Jen.
"But well, you know, going on all these tours makes Nikki a lonesome and lonely boy. One night after we were playing a show in this huge coliseum somewhere near Niagara Falls I had insomnia.
"I tried watching an old John Wayne movie on the TV in the hotel and just said, 'I can't relate to this noise,' so I left the hotel room, went outside and right across the street was this shining blue, green, yellow, orange and purple opal. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in all my dog-gone days.
"So I went over and serendipitously discovered that it was a casino," Mr. Sixx said.
"I was a bit delirious. It was a grueling few days and I was suffering from sleep deprivation....I had no idea what the hell that amorphous, multi-layered, glittering structure was, right then, anyhow - it looked sort of like a big UFO."
"So I went inside. All these bells, whistles, and sirens were going off all over the place. And so I go up to a cocktail waitress and asked what all these people were doing. She told me they were playing contraptions called 'slot machines' and so I asked her, 'Can I play one of those things? I'm a famous bass guitar player who's been wired-out with adrenalin - we had a great show tonight, you see - I don't drink alcohol and heaven forbid, I swore off any other kind of well, that junk, is all I'll tell you, thank you very much. And well, I just need to wind down and get some sleep. Playing one of these fancy boxes just may be the ticket to sleepy time.'"
He said the young woman looked at him oddly and he told her, "I have insomnia right now. Yes, insomnia. And I need to catch at least three hours of nappy time before we shove off for Atlanta tomorrow.'"
Mr. Sixx said the gracious young woman showed Mr. Sixx how to operate one of the slot machines. He told this reporter he shoved 50 cents into one of the bleeping, burping, obnoxious gizmos and made $777,025 on the first spin of the game's BET NOW button.
"That was all it took. Every time we played a concert from then on out, I had to get to a casino. Would you believe just last week, I shoved my entire fortune into a slot machine on a gaudy showboat in Vicksburg, Miss., and lost it all on one spin of the wheel?"
Mr. Sixx said he doesn't know if he has a gambling problem.
"Are you serious?" I asked.
Mr. Sixx looked a bit reflective and philosophic, took a deep breath and said, "Tell you the truth, it hasn't killed me yet and I still sort of enjoy playing those things. I like dog races and betting on trotters and pacers, too, whenever there isn't a slot machine available," he told this reporter.
"A lot of people might say, 'Nikki, you're a real knucklehead. You shoved millions of dollars into a slot machine and lost your entire fortune on one spin?'" he added.
"But I'd like to tell these people that it was nothing. Nothing at all. I'm in training to become a true professional gambler," Mr. Sixx said.
And if Nikki's Sixx's woes aren't enough to make a hard woman cry like a baby, the band's vocalist Vince Neil bought an island in the Caribbean and although he had just enough cash to buy it, he didn't account for the fact that he'd need to build a house on the island to live in. The cost of the island, he said, wiped out his entire fortune and he was left with 53 cents after the monetary exchange.
"I blew those two quarters and three pennies at a thrift shop. I bought a scarf," he said.
"Why do you need a scarf on a deserted island?" I asked him.
"It's a rock star thing," he answered. "You just wouldn't understand. We all wear scarves. It's cool to wear a few of them without a shirt on. The fans - especially the women - go absolutely ape shit over it all."
"I love the island. It's huge. Every kind of tropical bird and reptile is around. And the fish - they're all like swimming kaleidoscopes. Man, they're beautiful!"
"I don't regret buying the island. It's great - with beaches all over the place. A tropical paradise. But I'm not going to live in the jungle. I mean, come on! Even a little house trailer somewhere would be fine. I'm a retired rock musician. I just need a place to hang my head at night and play my stereo at 200 decibels whenever the hell I want to."
"And the girls. I've always loved the ladies. You can't be a retired rock musician without a few dollars in your pocket. I don't go into detail about the women I date, but believe me, this chick I'm with now, well, she's a pricy babe. She certainly doesn't want to have anything to do with a guy who lives on an island, sleeps in the woods, and has to catch lizards, snakes and bugs just to have snacks."
"Seriously?" I asked Mr. Neil.
"I'm as serious as a heart attack," he answered with a determined frown.
"Yes, he's as serious as a heart attack. Believe him," Mr. Sixx, who was standing beside Mr. Neil, chimed in, wearing a strange rictus on his face.
Meantime, Drummer Tommy Lee spent his fortune on a fleet of custom motorcycles made of platinum, gold, and silver. And he had enough left over to buy a few vintage muscle-cars, too. But buying all these toys left him cash strapped.
And guitarist Mick Mars trusted some shyster who said he'd invest money for him, but it wound up being a Ponzi scheme and Mr. Mars, like the rest of the band, is flat broke.
"Don't ever give all your money to a man who says he's going to guarantee you a 150-percent gain on the investment of your fortune in three days' time. If it sounds too good, it is. I'm talking to Stacy Keach next week about this mess. Hey, try to catch American Greed in early June, that's when it airs," Mars noted.
"The entire show's on this con-man's house-of-cards falling on me and wiping me out," he said.
The Motley Crue crew aren't spring chickens these days and deserve a well-deserved retirement. One of the world's leading rock & roll fixtures for 34 years now, their iconic hits are played over & over & over again, on any classic radio station you tune into. About their final tour, their schedule on the Motley Crue official homepage states: "Mötley Crüe first announced plans for their two-year Final Tour by signing a Cessation Of Touring Agreement at a press conference in Los Angeles in January 2014, solidifying the end of their touring career for December 2015. Since the announcement the band has been touring tirelessly to say goodbye to fans around the world, most recently playing their final shows in Japan."
So catch them if you can. Yes, it's their final tour. Thanks for all the great songs, great memories, and adding a slice of life to all our lives, you crazy creeps. This is about as nice as it gets here, on The Spoof.