Dirty Rocker Boys

Dirty Rocker Boys

Bobbie Brown

Language: English

Pages: 272

ISBN: 1476734720

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

An uncensored Hollywood tell-all filled with explicit tales of love, sex, and revenge from the video vixen made famous by Warrant’s rock anthem “Cherry Pie.”

Who could forget the sexy “Cherry Pie” girl from hair metal band Warrant’s infamous music video? Bobbie Brown became a bona fide vixen for her playful role as the object of lead singer Jani Lane’s desires. But the wide-eyed Louisiana beauty queen’s own dreams of making it big in Los Angeles were about to be derailed by her rock-and-roll lifestyle. After her tumultuous marriage to Jani imploded, and her engagement to fast-living Mötley Crüe drummer Tommy Lee ended in a drug haze—followed by his marriage later to Pamela Anderson—Bobbie decided it was time Hollywood’s hottest bachelors got a taste of their own medicine. Step one: get high. Step two: get even.

In a captivating, completely uncensored confessional, Bobbie explicitly recounts a life among some of the most famous men in Hollywood: Leonardo DiCaprio, Kevin Costner, Mark McGrath, Dave Navarro, Sebastian Bach, Ashley Hamilton, Rob Pilatus of Milli Vanilli, Matthew and Gunnar Nelson, Orgy’s Jay Gordon, and many more. No man was off limits as the fun-loving bombshell spiraled into excess, anger, and addiction.

Bobbie survived the party—barely—and her riveting, cautionary comeback tale is filled with the wildest stories of sex, drugs, and rock and roll ever told.

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dedicated “Heaven,” Warrant’s huge lighters-in-the-air ballad to me on our first date. As the stage lights exploded in Shreveport, Louisiana, I surveyed the screaming fans and privately noted that Matthew Nelson had never, not once, publicly dedicated a song to me. “Jani’s so intense!” said my friend Tammy, who had come with me to the show. “He looks like he really means it, you know?” “Uh-huh,” I said, imagining Matthew’s face when he found out the Cherry Pie guy had dedicated a song to the

matter what happened in the past, I don’t want to hurt Dad’s feelings, not on a day like this,” I said. “I support you in whatever you decide” was her response. Because I was already three months pregnant, I was too tired to party with everyone else until late, so I went home and climbed in to bed, exhausted. I lay there, waiting for Jani, my husband. My mind was spinning. “Forever” had been a word I had tossed around before, but now I wondered what that even meant. I thought about my mother and

said. Being a bitch felt empowering. Somehow, Jason and I remained friends and years later, over lunch, he decided to reminisce about our one night of “passion.” “You know . . . when you and I had sex, it was pretty wild and crazy,” he said, with a half smile. I said, “Jason, you’re kidding, right? Bless your heart, you need to get out more.” I wasn’t trying to be a dick. I swear. Next! Leonardo DiCaprio, some model dude, the actor Billy Wirth, some singer, Kevin Costner, some hip-hop

need.” I asked him if Taylar could come too, and he said sure. Thank fuck, I thought, packing up boxes at the town house, breathing a sigh of relief. He and Pamela had divorced a year prior, in 1998, and he had spent time in jail for spousal abuse. I wondered if that experience had made him change. Maybe this is his way of trying to make things up to me, I thought. Tommy was living in a huge house in a canyon close to Malibu. When I arrived, his two kids, Brandon and Dylan, were swimming in the

escaping the lovebugs. Lovebugs (they’re also known as “honeymoon flies,” and “kissing bugs,”) look like flies that are connected by the tail in pairs, stuck to each other for days after they mate. They would drift in huge, slow clouds in the late summer and if your car ran into one of the swarms, you’d have to clean them off right away; otherwise the acid in their blood could strip your paintwork. “Love hurts,” I would sing, as I hosed down my mom’s car for the tenth time that week, spraying

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