Read Online White Line Fever: Lemmy: The Autobiography by Lemmy Kilmister - Free Book Online Page A

heroin, you can fucking have it.’ And I also saw people doing horrible fixes with old, blunt needles that would really fucking mess their arms up. You’d see people with embolisms in their arms the size of a cricket ball. And they’d be selling their asses for a fucking shot. It always looked like misery to me. No fun at all.
    I’ve had so many fucking friends die from heroin, but the worst of it was that the girl I was the most in love with in my life died of the stuff, too. Her name was Sue and she was the first girl I ever lived with. She was all of fifteen when we first got together – most embarrassing if caught by the police, but there you go. I was just twenty-one when we met in 1967 anyway, so I wasn’t exactly some randy old geezer. More like two randy young ones! The big deal – at least to everyone else – was that she was black. We were ostracized completely. All our friends left us – hers and mine. And this was supposed to be the era of peace and love, you know! Everybody was listening to black music for the first time and all. Ha! It just proved how hypocritical they all were. Nobody knew how to deal with us. My friends left because I was associating with a nigger, which I thought was very bad news all around – fuckin’ assholes. Her black friends thought I was the oppressor, stealing a young black girl and making her my plaything and shit. Bollocks! I pointed out to them that when I left the house, I didn’t hold her by the wrist – she could come with me if she wanted and stay if she wanted. But Sue and I didn’t care, really. Hell, if you lose friends like that, they ain’t your friends anyway. Besides, we were in love, so no one else mattered anyhow.
    Sue and I used to fight like cat and dog, though. She was a triple Gemini, so you never knew which personality you were talking to. We never had enough money, and then she started working at the Speakeasy. She kept getting offers from people – she was young and had only just discovered she was beautiful, so people took her for a ride. While she was working at the Speak,we split up – one of the four or five times during the course of our relationship – and then she screwed Mick Jagger. I asked her afterwards, ‘What was he like?’ And she said, ‘Well, he was good, but he wasn’t as good as Jagger, you know,’ which was perfect! She meant, of course, that Jagger couldn’t live up to his own reputation. No way he could, even if he swung in, pole-vaulted into the room on his – well, you catch my drift.
    Anyway, Sue eventually got a job in the Lebanon, dancing in Beirut. That was before it got demolished, and it was still a playground of the Western world. She returned with a staggering heroin habit, and it was never quite the same after that. I’d just gone back with her and she went up to her granny’s. While she was there, she got one of her friends to come around with some smack. So she went in the bathroom and shut the door. Did the shit, drew herself a bath and then she passed out and drowned in her own bathwater. She was all of nineteen.
    I was in London when she died – I had joined Hawkwind by this time – but I didn’t go to the funeral. I mean, who wants to see them dead? I liked them alive. She had a sister, Kay. She was as pretty as Sue. I don’t know what happened to her but if she’s reading this, get in touch – we’ll talk about Sue a bit. Yes?
    So I knew from personal experience that heroin was the most awful drug to get involved with, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t go through a few harrowing experiences involving the search for my own substance of choice. One time, about ’69 or ’70, I really came unstuck. A bunch of us were sitting around, waiting for the speed to arrive. This guy was going out with a nurse, see, whoworked at a dispensary, so he bribed her into getting us some amphetamine sulphate. Finally, she came in with a mason jar with what looked like amphetamine sulphate written on it. And