A DREEM DATE WITH GENE SIMMONS
“I want to join the Kiss Army!” I pleaded in the house phone of a ritzcheesy West Hollywood hotel. “Do you like pain and tire chains and Hostess Twinkies?” the rusty voice queried. “Yes. Yes, oh yes.” I volunteered. “Then come on up and I’ll show you my clippings and private girlie folio and we can speak Hungarian,” invited Kiss’s blood-spitter, Gene Simmons.
A DREEM DATE WITH GENE SIMMONS
by
Darcy Diamond
“I want to join the Kiss Army!” I pleaded in the house phone of a ritzcheesy West Hollywood hotel.
“Do you like pain and tire chains and Hostess Twinkies?” the rusty voice queried.
“Yes. Yes, oh yes.” I volunteered.
“Then come on up and I’ll show you my clippings and private girlie folio and we can speak Hungarian,” invited Kiss’s blood-spitter, Gene Simmons.
I found out later that he does indeed speak Hungarian. Later, he even admitted having a secret crush on Zsa Zsa Gabor. He can say “My name is Gene” or “My name is Sylvester” in either Transylvanian or German. And I always thought when they said he was a linguist, it was a sly reference to his slinky tongue.
The room was littered with trash. Then the local press people left, and.it was less cluttered. Gene kissed my hand and offered me a Fresca.
“How do you do, Cal,” I burbled in all my nervousness. ,
I could tell that this here fellow Was plenty tall, though he hadn’t yet stood up, by the way his legs were wrapped three tfmes and tucked underneath the couch.