Excerpts from

How to Rock Like a Rock Star

by

Rex Amadeus

Author's Foreskin

So I guess this is it, dear adoring fan. They say that once you write your memoirs you’re officially done. Well, stick a fork in me, roll me over and pour the fucking gravy because I’m done. Amen. Of course, they also say they are gonna pay me a shit load of money for this so there you go. My memories are apparently for sale, and I have apparently no problems cashing in on them. Hell, what I don’t remember I’ll just make up anyway. Oops, did I say that out aloud? Never mind… It’s all good shit.

So, obviously, I am Rex Amadeus; famed rocker, deadbeat dad, sexy singer, idiot husband, groupie Casanova, junkie galore and all the other shit that comes with the territory. You know me. Well, at least you think you know me. After all, you have saved all the newspaper clippings, taped all the interviews, ooh’d and aah’d at my antics and lived vicariously through my personal ups and downs. I have been right here on display for the sake of your entertainment all these years, and you know me by now. At least, you know what everybody else also knows. I guess these memoirs are where I fill in the blanks and connect the dots so you get the whole picture. The picture that makes up what Rex Amadeus is all about. In case anybody cares… I don’t even know if I will read this damn thing once it’s done. Maybe I would be wiser to just leave you in the notion that I am the greatest thing since cocaine and be done with it?

There have been some fantastic memories to put down, I guess. Great tales of woes and ho’s to shock you drama whores with, and more subtle episodes to add some flesh to the bones of this life of mine. Don’t worry, I swear I won’t leave anything out. I will put all the really good shit down here, too. If I do this right maybe I don’t have to do another stupid fucking interview for the rest of my life, answering the same damn questions over and over: “Yes, Lizzie is both my ex-wife and my PR-agent and it is a weird situation” – “No, I did not interfere when Zeus stuck a pool cue up Beppo’s ass. He had it coming.” – “Yes, I do think this is my best album to date.” Blah blah blah… And people think I am the one who needs some new material? Well, I guess this is where I set all that shit straight. Unveil the legend and demystify the mysterious. That sort of thing.

Whatever… Shit is about to hit the fan – this book being da shit (fo sho’ mofo), and you being the fan.

This is Rex. Rock’n’roll Over.