Author Topic: Frehley Friday  (Read 3744 times)

Kwon

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #125 on: November 11, 2025, 01:24:51 PM »
Important to note that Ace (Paul) was not as good at business as Stanley Eisen and Chaim Witz were

THIS

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Kwon

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #126 on: November 11, 2025, 02:06:39 PM »
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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #127 on: November 11, 2025, 02:45:48 PM »
Who looks coolest on this album cover? ACE of course

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titusisback

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #128 on: November 11, 2025, 02:46:39 PM »
THIS

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JE can only WISH to be as good

Kwon

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #129 on: November 11, 2025, 02:54:34 PM »
LOL Vinnie Vincent always looks dodgy in these vids

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Kwon

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #130 on: November 11, 2025, 02:57:47 PM »
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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #131 on: November 11, 2025, 05:08:37 PM »
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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #132 on: November 12, 2025, 08:59:03 AM »

Kwon

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #133 on: November 12, 2025, 10:00:36 AM »
EARLY BLACK DIAMOND

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Kwon

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #134 on: November 12, 2025, 12:30:46 PM »
REUNION AND FAREWELL!

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Kwon

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #136 on: November 13, 2025, 08:59:55 AM »
ACE AND PEARL JAM!

Guess some Pearl Jammers were huge fans of Ace and he was their idol


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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #137 on: November 13, 2025, 02:18:58 PM »
THEY WERE TOP OF THE WORLD IN 1980

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #138 on: November 13, 2025, 06:28:39 PM »

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #139 on: Today at 09:21:17 AM »
Ace truly lived a Rock'n'Roll life style. Check this article:


Rolling Stones, Feb 17th 1984

It all started one rainy evening at a small hotel just outside Cleveland. Ace Frehley swore he’d seen Paul Stanley carrying a jar of lightning into his room. Not lightning like lightning—actual threads of it, flickering pale blue behind the glass like nervous eels.

Gene Simmons was at the bar, drinking something that he said was “half coffee, half contract negotiation.” He didn’t look up when Ace sat down, just muttered, “If Paul’s messing with electricity again, tell him to keep it below 40 volts. Management’s already suspicious.”

By the next morning, no one could find Paul, but somehow everyone could hear him—coming faintly from the hotel’s air vents. His voice was calm and conversational, as if he were hosting a press conference somewhere inside the ductwork. The weird part was, all the questions he answered were about events that hadn’t happened yet.

Ace tore open one of the vents and found a microphone connected to nothing but a power outlet. It was hot to the touch. When he plugged in his guitar amp—just to see what would happen—it started playing a song they’d never recorded. Gene appeared in the doorway holding three matching suits and said, very seriously, “The label already approved the video.”

That afternoon, the entire hotel was rented out to a film crew. They said they were shooting a documentary about the band’s early years, but Ace couldn’t remember giving permission. When he confronted the director, the man turned and—it wasn’t a man at all. It was Paul, wearing an expression Ace remembered from 1976, saying, “We’re still on tour, you just forgot the dates.”

By the time Gene came back from the bar, the hotel had no record of them ever checking in. The clerk said the place had been closed since 1983. Ace looked at the jar Paul had left on the counter—it was empty now, except for a faint smell of ozone—and said, “Then who paid for the room?”

Gene didn’t answer. He was already counting the royalties.

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #140 on: Today at 12:44:05 PM »
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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #141 on: Today at 03:24:51 PM »
One night in the neon chaos of Las Vegas, Ace Frehley was lifting dumbbells made of meteorite fragments in a midnight gym shaped like a flying saucer. The lights flickered every time he did a curl. He wasn’t training for a concert—he was training for war.

Weeks earlier, Ace had discovered that a parallel universe existed where “The Bad KISS” ruled the cosmos with tone-deaf tyranny. Their leader, an evil clone of Paul Stanley with laser eyes and a synth guitar that shot fire, had stolen Ace’s original spaceman boots—the ones rumored to contain cosmic energy. Without them, the universe’s harmony was collapsing into eternal feedback.

Bench-pressing an old jukebox to warm up, Ace called in his only ally—Gene Simmons’ shadow. The real Gene was asleep in a cryogenic pod backstage somewhere in LA, but his shadow still kept the bass groove alive. Together, they stormed through a wormhole disguised as a tanning bed, guitars blazing with lightning and protein shake fumes.

In the final showdown, Ace used his amplified biceps to strum a power chord so heavy it reversed gravity for three full minutes. The Bad KISS crumbled, their leather pants turning into glitter dust. Ace retrieved his boots, plugged them into a Marshall amp the size of a planet, and restored the good vibes to every garage band in existence.

Then he calmly walked back into the cosmic gym, took a sip of his post-workout star dust smoothie, and said, “Now that’s what I call a universe encore.”

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Re: Frehley Friday
« Reply #142 on: Today at 03:34:17 PM »
Less known story about an altercation between KISS and Rush:

After a high-energy joint concert in Toronto, tensions backstage were running higher than usual. The long night, sweat, and adrenaline started to mix with old rivalries and creative differences between the groups.

Ace Frehley, known for his laid-back but intense personality, got into a heated debate with Geddy Lee about guitar solos and stage presence. What began as a disagreement on musical style quickly escalated when Lifeson chimed in, defending Rush's progressive approach while Ace defended KISS’s raw rock ethos.

The verbal sparring caught the attention of the rest of both bands, and soon, frustration turned physical. A shoving match started near the catering table where a spilled drink added fuel to the fire. Pressed for space in the cramped hallway, punches were exchanged in the heat of the moment.

Crew members hurried in to separate them before things got out of hand. Everyone involved was breathing hard, faces flushed, but the fight ended quickly with apologies and shaky hands. They knew that beyond the fists, their shared love of music was the real tie that bound them—even if their styles collided spectacularly at times.

Later, the bands laughed about the incident over a late-night meal, agreeing that some rivalries were best left on stage, not backstage. And while the tension was real, it wasn’t enough to break the camaraderie built over years of touring.