Had no idea it would be like what it was. All they said was that Motley Crue was making an announcement – the inaugural Crue Fest this summer and a new album – and we were invited to the press conference and interviews with the band afterwards. eTalk.ctv.ca also had an exclusive one-on-one with Tommy Lee.

I naively thought it would be like any other presser.


Was told to meet in the lobby of our hotel at 3pm to travel to the Avalon for the announcement and two short sets for the media and on the Kimmel show. Dashed downstairs expecting to hook up with a group of journalists on the music beat. Typically they’re seasoned and jaded professionals talking shop about whatever.

Wrong again.

The elevator door opens and I’m the only visible minority among, oh, a crowd that eventually filled up two massive tour buses. They are pierced and tattooed, some are holding six packs half consumed, others swigging beer from a paper bag, women with perms, tight mom jeans and concert tees, rockin’ fake nails with rhinestones glued to their thumbs. Metal head city. Which is totally cool. Just… not my scene. Way out of my scene.

I’m the loser in braids and leggings, wearing heels and carrying a laptop. Stuck out like a sore thumb. Turns out most of these people were not reporters but radio station winners who had won the chance to interview the band. Took me an hour to differentiate between journalists and Motley fans.

Feeling terribly insecure, of course I immediately started texting my girls. Lara seemed to think it was funny. She kept saying – this is the most amazing thing ever. And she nearly lost her mind when we climbed on the bus.

I found a seat next to a DJ from Miami – an attractive woman who looked like a younger version of Teri Hatcher, not so surgerised but equally as hard, wearing an open back top, boot cut jeans, and heels that looked like “Candies”. Heavy eyeliner, dark lips, and skinny with big tits that looked fake to me. She commented that we (she and I) weren’t the “regular” kind of girls who end up at these things. Then she gave me a knowing smile. I immediately pictured her naked straddling Nikki Sixx.

The bus pulled away then, we were en route. This triggered a new round of enthusiasm and I was jolted out of my seat as we rounded the first corner when the woman in front of me shouted out: Give it up for a free party! Yeah!
And for the next 20 minutes, it was more of the same. From the back of the bus, for no particular reason:

F*ck yeah… Woo!

Or –

This is it man, this is it! Woo!

And my personal favourite:

Who’s getting f&cked up tonight? WOO!

But then came the moment when I finally realised I’d never really, truly lived until that point. Because the Hollywood sign came into view. And my bus-mates started cussing out the bus driver for not stopping so that they could take the picture. So they started leaning against one side of the coach and pulled out their digital cameras.

This was followed by more of the same:

Holly-f&cking-wood baby! WOO!

And the best is that when I described this scene to Lara, who was demanding real time updates, her first and only reaction was: Ewwww! Like she’d just taken a bite out of a live rat…which is when I realised – what kind of person has the kind of friend whose reaction to this kind of a situation is Ew? My friends are snotty bitches. I love my friends.

Finally we arrived at the Avalan and things started picking up. I was able to locate the media folk. Met an adorable intern for the National Post called Sean who was on his first assignment. And I’ve never seen so much hair spray or torn fishnets in my whole life. Much happier now.

Especially when I saw the girls on the balcony with their breasts hanging out, jumping up and down in the hopes that they’d find themselves at the end of the night with their legs in the air. Metal groupies are the best. No round toe shoes in sight. Every pair of go go boots was either pointy or square. And latex. It was amazing.

The press conference actually started on time. Another pleasant surprise. These f&ckers are not known for punctuality. Then the band strolled out: first Tommy, Nikki Sixx behind him, Mick Mars, and Vince Neil who is bloated and burnt to a crisp and still thinks it’s 1985.

They spoke for a few minutes, nothing interesting. Except to say that Crue Fest will be all about the rock’n’roll lifestyle, excess, and a trail of panties from coast to coast. Sweet. No really. If this is your thing – you will LOVE this tour. And they will deliver.

Next… a brief break ensued because they had to prep for their performance.

When they took the stage, the girls, girls, girls lost their minds, minds, minds. Actually kind of enjoyed Kickstart My Heart – Vince’s voice is still high and strong. And Nikki is cool as hell. And Mick stunned everyone by looking like a corpse and still jamming respectably. But to be honest, Tommy seemed as though he was struggling. It’s a lot of cardio hammering those drums. Someone needs to hit the treadmill.

The second song was Saints of Los Angeles, their new song and the title of their new album. This is when my sex glands became swollen. Because Josh Todd from Buckcherry, among others, joined Motley Crue, and I fell in lust with his haircut. His photo is attached. Don’t bother arguing.

Two songs and a layer of sweat took over the groupies. They waited impatiently for the 2nd set for Kimmel which was pretty much the same thing, except this time Josh came out in a leather jacket and nothing underneath. F&ck yeah! WOO!

After that, we headed upstairs into a hall to wait for our interview slots. Spent the next two hours ogling the ladies. Seriously. Best.Sh*t.Ever.

The journalists were mixed in with a few eager radio winners and publicists. Members of Sixx: A.M. and Buckcherry and Papa Roach mingled freely in the crowd. This of course meant open season for a dozen or so Pam Anderson wannabes with a window of opportunity.

Eavesdropping on these conversations totally made my life.

One girl with an Eastern European accent and the shortest skirt I’ve ever seen went up to James Michael and opened with: where is your family from? Do you want to come to my show on April 26th?


My attention however was focused on two seemingly underaged girls dressed in the same outfit. Black leather cap, short sleeve tee exposing their abs, pink mini, fishnets, and WHITE boots. I could only manage this photo without looking obvious.

Now come on.

Tell me this isn’t the best thing you’ve ever seen. This is the dark haired one trying to talk security into letting her into see Motley Crue. I love her.

Anyway… finally it was my turn to talk to the band. They were seated in a semi circular booth – from left to right: Mick, Nikki, Vince, Tommy. I had 10 minutes. Mick didn’t say a word. Except to smile at me almost apologetically when Vince was giving me attitude. I’m guessing he didn’t like my use of big words. I asked them about the dysfunction between band members for years that’s been openly acknowledged for years (lawsuits etc) and how they were able to – like any tight family – move past it and come together for the tour.

Vince seemed like he took issue with the question, or maybe he didn’t understand what “dysfunction” means. Whatever the reason, his bitch came out and he became defensive. So Nikki stepped in and saved it – turning it into a joke about the tabloids. Nikki actually did most of the talking. We had a weird vibe – kinda tense but kinda flirty at the same time. A dark dirty part of me was quivering. After all, this is a dude who has DIED, literally, and come back to life. There’s something intangibly fascinating about a mortal immortal, you know what I mean? My assignments are starting to bleed into each other now. Teen vampires the day before, reincarnated rock stars the day after.

Anyway, had to wait another hour before my solo with Tommy. He was wearing a black fedora, white shirt over a grey vest, some kind of tie around his neck, and ripped jeans. Tall, very thin. He didn’t smell like fish and looks rough but not horrid. Has a way with women for sure. An effortless way. Almost like an entitlement, only not arrogant. The result, ostensibly, of two decades of guaranteed p&ssy. The same way you turn on the tap and expect water to come gushing out, this is a guy who strolls into a club and expects other liquids to gush from other outlets. And as I mentioned the other day, I was warned repeated by 3 producers at eTalk that as skanky as he may seem, somehow he has a way of speaking in a language understood by your loins.

To be perfectly honest, that didn’t happen. But I will say he was lovely. Much lovelier in a one on one setting than how he was with the other members. He recognised me from before, and wondered why he had to do yet another interview when I already had one. I told him we wanted a story on him alone and he immediately said he didn’t want to talk about personal stuff, in a very nice way, and I explained that I would focus on family and fatherhood and he was totally into it and so right off the top, first question, he introduced “Pamela” into the conversation.

He calls her Pamela.

And they call each other “baby”.

Tommy was forthcoming about being a rock star dad. He said he would miss his boys on the road. He said they asked him not to go. He said he tries to keep them out of the spotlight. He and Pamela have vowed never to do carpets with their kids. So then I pressed him about reality tv shows, if his children would ever be a part of that.

A definitive Hell No was his reply.

Of course I had to go for it. So I put Dina Lohan on the table and asked him what he thought of what she was doing. He made a face and was like – totally wrong.

What does it say about that Orange Pimp that Tommy Lee makes better decisions than she does???

The truth is, I was pleasantly charmed. He’s engaging. He stayed in the moment. He wasn’t eager to run away and bang some twat in the bathroom. I respect that.

So I didn’t want to keep him. He was tired, he wanted to start partying, and I had what my producers were expecting. I thanked him, he touched my leg and thanked me back, gave me an air kiss, and then pulled me in for a proper kiss on the cheek. I wasn’t turned on… but at the same time I felt like the prom queen. How did he do that???

How is it that Joaquin Phoenix, a former Freebie #1, succeeded during an interview at TIFF in annihilating my fantasies but Tommy Lee, who stank of fish the last time I saw him at the Superbowl, managed to make me smile at the end of a very long night?

Don’t get me wrong. It’s a super fun gig. I am always grateful. Always. But back to back trips and long nights and getting up at 4am to blog and then psyching yourself up for on camera interviews takes a lot of gas. I was on a super deadline still to roll out of there and speed over to the satellite centre across town to feed my tapes back to Toronto and I was panicking that I wouldn’t make my window. Booking a satellite window costs thousands of dollars. And if you’re late… too late. It’s gone and so is your money.

So as I was nearing the end of my rope, having eaten only a cookie 10 hours before, it was Tommy Lee – f&cking Tommy Lee – who sent me off on a high note.

He probably didn’t mean to, and he’ll never know, but I will remember him for that always. I get it. I get the Tommy Lee thing. I don’t feel it personally, but I get it. So for those of you who have the Tommy itch… I’m telling you now that your itch, if ever realised, will certainly be satisfied. Scratched to a pleasure point that will leave you sated. Happy now?

Click here for Crue Fest tour dates and tickets. Have fun. Rock on. Woo!

photos from Wenn.com