Well that was fast.

Just like that, our time in stadiums with Guns N’ Roses is
over.

Five shows over the course of 11 days, and now we move on to
headline gigs.

But the night isn’t over yet, and I’m at the after party in
Axl Rose’s penthouse suite in the Ritz Carlton hotel in downtown Chicago.

And the best part is that I’m sitting in the dining area,
just off of the main living room where most everyone else is, and I’m alone typing
this into my phone.

So yeah, I’ve somehow managed to find a way to make a party
with the singer of Guns N’ Roses into a boring experience for myself.

But at least I made it here.

Sean and Mike & I succeeded in turning a 6 minute walk
from the Sofitel to the Ritz into a 35 minute odyssey of wrong turns and
confusion.

And what do two sober musicians and one band underling with
a bladder full of two apple ciders do when they can’t find a conveniently
located bathroom at 2:30 A.M. in downtown Chicago?

Find a row of dumpsters in an alley and commit a
misdemeanor.

But enough about public urination. Lets talk about Axl
Rose’s after party.

Actually, lets not.

Would you like to know part of the reason I’ve been able to
maintain a career in the music business for over 25 years?

I can keep a secret, and I know how to keep my mouth shut.

That can be easier said than done, especially when there’s a
blog to be written.

But sometimes you have to know when to shut your big fat
mouth and store the good stuff away.

After all, I already told you about peeing in an alley.

What more do you want?

So yes, I went to a party in Axl Rose’s hotel room (I also just
dropped his name for the third time in five paragraphs, which is obnoxious).

And there are no big secrets or reasons to keep my mouth
shut.

But the less I write, the more you have to use your
imagination, so I’ll just say that it was fun, and we were there late.

Being on the road with Guns N’ Roses has also been a lot of
fun.

These shows are BIG, and the fans that come out are having a
great time, and it was really cool to be a part of it.

And now it’s over, but the ending was a perfect capper on
the whole experience.

If someone had told me back in 1987 when I bought Appetite
For Destruction that I’d be sitting in Axl’s suite nearly 30 years later, I’d
have peed in my pants instead of behind a dumpster in an alley in Chicago.

It’s been a crazy ride…