RATINGS: A = must own B = buy it C= average D = yawn F = puke

Zakk Wylde (with Eric Hendrikx)– Bringing Metal to the Children
Harper Collins

Rating: X

This has to be the gayest book I have ever read. 

Most of it is just spewed bullshit from a leather bound, unkempt, bearded, former booze addled rock star that seems to have a fascination with…

A) Performing oral sex on men
B) Butt Plugs and other anal type devices
C) Seeing how badly he can smell
D) Masturbating while fantasizing about being a Viking
E) Combing his wife’s back hair
F) Promoting his biker type outlaw gang called Black Label Society 

Oh, and there seems to be a lot of pooping, as well and making fun of his friend JR, who, apparently is even gayer than he is.  Throw in a lot of drinking stories, sex-capades, throwing up, nakedness, more silly Viking references and lots of commentary on his gaping asshole and you pretty much have the entire book.

One more thing…did I mention this book is funny as fuck?  Oh, it is, I couldn’t stop laughing. My wife doesn’t like it, though.  Unlike me and Zakk, she thinks 12-year-old locker room/tour bus humor is kinda gross. 

It just occurred to me that Zakk could kick my ass for saying some of this shit about him and his book.  I hope he has the same sense of humor about this review as I do about his book.  Aw fuck ‘em if he doesn’t.  I mean, he should, as I said it is funny.  I do hope he won’t beat me up, though, if we should ever meet.  I REALLY hope he does not seek me out and hunt me down just to beat me up, or worse, blow me.  But if he does, he does.  That would suck though, as he is as big as a Viking and pretty scary and apparently horny. 

There is also a lot of violence in the book, as well as some killer road stories told by a guy who, despite hitting the Metal scene looking like Lita Ford’s gay brother, has seen his fair share of crazy shit.  I can’t stop thinking of the groupie shooting candy fish out of her twat into the mouths of salivating roadies.  You can’t make this shit up, and if you did make stuff like this up then you would need put into a straightjacket, as that would make you one sick fuck.  The only way this stuff is funny is if it is true.  And, so far as we know, this shit is true.

I am hesitant to share my next thoughts, as what I write next may be the thing that gets me beat up by Zakk…I can tell that underneath his Viking mentality, his potty mouth, his adolescent sense of humor—make that his perverted and demented adolescent sense of humor—his animal like sense of survival and his grim and violent lyrics…and bad-ass guitar playing, Zakk is a nice man.  There…I said it. 

Once one is done laughing until their rectum bleeds from reading his book, they may just see what I saw between the lines and that is that Zakk Wylde is a family man who worships and loves his wife, loves his music, is a…gasp…man who believes in God, is proud of his Black Label Brotherhood and cares about his band…even JR.

Yup, underneath the leather, the hair, the matted beard, the several days of stank and some probably very corroded boxer shorts, is a good man; a twisted, funny, crazy, guitar playing maniac, but, still a good man. 

This book, much like this review, will not be liked by anyone who clenches their ass cheeks too tightly and thinks belonging to the Tea Party is cool; it will horrify and disgust a lot of people.  But, if the sight of Zakk, in a dress holding a Barbie doll in one hand, while hiking his dress up with the other and taking a piss in public is funny to you…then you already own all his Ozzy albums and his Black Label Society albums…and you will love this book, so much so that you will buy a bag of Swedish Fish and give that come hither Viking look to your wife. 

Be sure and let me know how that works out for you.

By Jeb Wright