February 21, 2005

Hunter S. Thompson commits suicide. He stomped on the tarmac.

Stolen with impunity from the Blue. I'm re-reading Hell's Angels out of respect for the dead. The man could write.

posted by Fes 19 years ago
  • if the world's so fucked up that dr. gonzo has to take himself out... where the fuck does that leave us? no fucking periods in this thread, guys. hunter would have shot you. drink, drugs, debauchery. that's what he would have wanted.
  • here's the Denver Post story I was about to post. thanks for beating me to it, Fes... I was at a loss for words. I mean, shooting himself was not an unlikely way for him to go, but... damn. a shot of ouzo for him!
  • . FPP first period post Actually it's not a period it's two fleas doing acid together. And having ass sex. RIP ODB, HST Your counterculture sucked as much as my parents But you liked motorcycles.
  • Oh dear!
  • ActuallySettle, Hunter's gonna stalk you and blow your head off with a spectral shotgun. You know it.
  • Sorry patita. First time I've logged on in 48 hours, total news blackout since Friday at 5. I check the various, and this jumps out like a fucking nova out of deep black. Goddamned dreadful.
  • Fes, you beat me. Here is what I was about to post: Normally, I do not care for obituary postings, but this has shaken me. I can't say I'm totally surprised, but somehow I had always hoped Mr. Thompson was stronger than this. His books certainly shaped my early adulthood (positively and negatively.) Unfortunately, this action is reflective of how he wrote -- somewhere in the grey zone between ballsy and contrived. How do you say good bye to some one you never met? Goodbye Gonzo.
  • CRAP. This sucks. RIP Hunter T. Has anyone checked on Uncle Duke?
  • Wow, I guess he went out the way he wanted to. Good for him.
  • Damn. I loved that book (F&L).
  • Triple dog fucked. I'm sad to hear this.
  • "From my perch at the end of the bar, with the big wooden fans whirling slowly above my head, I could look out on the whole waterfront. It was a good place to relax and read the papers--with the hula class practicing on the lawn, tall coconut palms along the seawall, big sailboats out in the bay and a whole zoo of human weirdness churning quietly around me."* Not that he believed in heaven (and for that matter, neither do I), but for what it's worth....
  • Author's Note But before we get to The Work, as it were, I want to make sure I know how to cope with this elegant typewriter — (and, yes, it appears that I do) — so why not make this quick list of my life's work and then get the hell out of town on the 11:05 to Denver? Indeed. Why not? But for just a moment I'd like to say, for the permanent record, that is a very strange feeling to be a 40-year-old American writer in this century and sitting alone in this huge building on Fifth Avenue in New York at one o'clock in the morning on the night before Christmas Eve, 2000 miles from home, and compiling a table of contents for a book of my own Collected Works in an office with a tall glass door that leads out to a big terrrace looking down on The Plaza Fountain. Very strange. I feel like I might as well be sitting up here carving the words for my own tombstone... and when I finish, the only fitting exit will be right straight off this fucking terrace and into The Fountain, 28 stories below and at least 200 yards out in the air and across Fifth Avenue. Nobody could follow that act. Not even me... and in fact the only way I can deal with this eerie situation at all is to make a conscious decision that I have already lived and finished the life I planned to live — (13 years longer, in fact) — and everything from now on will be A New Life, a different thing, a gig that ends tonight and starts tomorrow morning. So if I decide to leap for The Fountain when I finish this memo, I want to make one thing perfectly clear — I would genuinely love to make that leap, and if I don't I will always consider it a mistake and a failed opportunity, one of the very few serious mistakes of my First Life that is now ending. But what the hell? I probably won't do it (for all the wrong reasons), and I'll probably finish this table of contents and go home for Christmas and then have to live for 100 more years with all this goddamn gibberish I'm lashing together. But, Jesus, it would be a wonderful way to go out... and if I do it you bastards are going to owe me a king-hell 44-gun salutr (that word is "salute," goddamnit — and I guess I can't work this elegant typewriter as well as I thought I could)... But you know I could, if I had just a little more time. Right? Yes. HST #1, R.I.P. 12/23/77 The Great Shark Hunt
  • Aww.
  • The ESPN Hunter Archive I remember this quote alot, from the Jacket Copy for Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas from The Great Shark Hunt: "The only other important thing to be said about Fear & Loathing at this time is that it was fun to write, and that's rare - for me, at least, because I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling."
  • Better than cancer/cirrhosis/renal failure/dementia/whateverthefuck. A superior man knows when to leave. An immature one has to be dragged, kicking and screaming, or whimpering and smiling.
  • Fes, no worries. I'd just gotten a phonecall from a friend who'd seen a mention in Shannon Wheeler's blog and was wondering if it was real. It put me in the awkward postion of trying to verify a story that hadn't hit the newswires yet. AP Wire's got it now. it was very strange for a moment, like a paranoid premonition. and that's how we know the spirit passed.
  • I was about to put that up next, Alex Reynolds and also mention that The Kentucky Derby Is Decadent and Depraved is one of my favorite short stories/pieces of journalism of all time. Also, anyone remember his last wishes? It was in the interview on the Criterion Collection Edition Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas DVD..
  • Also from The Great Shark Hunt, HST on Hemingway, after visiting Ketchum, Idaho: "Standing on a corner in the middle of Ketchum it is easy to see the connection Hemingway must have made between this place and those he had known in the good years. Aside from the brute beauty of the mountains, he must have recognized an atavistic distinctness in the people that piqued his sense of dramatic possibilities. It is a raw and peaceful little village, especially in the off season with neither winter skies not summer fisherman to dilute the image. Only the main street is paved; most of the others are no more than dirt and gravel tracks that seem at times to run right through front yards. "From such a vantage point a man tends to feel it is not so difficult, after all, to see the world clear and as a whole. Like many another writer, Hemingway did his best work when he felt he was standing on something solid-- like an Idaho mountainside, or a sense of conviction. "Perhaps he found what he came here for, but the odds are huge that he didn't. He was an old, sick, and very troubled man, and the illusion of peace and contentment was not enough for him-- not even when his friends came up from Cuba and played bullfight with him in the Tram. And finally, and for what he must have thought the best of reasons, he ended it with a shotgun."
  • Well, shit. Can't say he didn't go how he wanted. RIP, HST.
  • Goodnight Gonzo. "It Never Got Weird Enough For Me."
  • I hope this is a hoax, 'cause at this point I am pretty friggin' stunned... Just stunned. . . If Hunter was to clock out, this is probably one of the ways he would have done it. What the hell is happening in this country and this existence to cause Hunter to give up like this?
  • INSERT HEARTFELT SENTIMENT I KNEW HIM REALLY WELL
  • I have to wonder if having a literal whore playing a fake-journalist in the White House sent old Hunter over the edge. Maybe things got too weird, even for him.
  • Dear Actually Settle: To some humans, other humans mean a lot. Whether they "knew" them or not. What do you "know"? And, more importantly, what do you "know" about what you "know" ? Are you the new Nostril/Devil's Advocate/Asshole here on MoFi?
  • ps I blame Brittney Spears, so you might want to remove all her records from your "collection". xo
  • I have Yoko Ono on my AIM
  • Also, how friggin old are you?
  • Damn, I was really surprised. Partly because I thought he had already debauched himself to death. I'll have to find my copy of F & L.
  • OK... nuffsaid. You are a dick. Goodnight to you.
  • Triacle: Some humans are able to live to astonishing ages despite their practices, others take a drink and die. Like Kurt Vonnegut (look him up sometime, Actually Settle, he's a GOOD human) said, "You never know who's gonna get a big one."
  • RIP, HST. Hope you're drinking rum and ice in a tropical paradise in your next dimension.
  • ilse: Big 10-4
  • Are you the new Nostril/Devil's Advocate/Asshole here on MoFi? You are a dick. So...you've been a member for four days? Actually Settle's been here since June of 2004. You don't have to like what Actually Settle posted, but then again, as a very new member, you might want to put that gun back in the holster there, Ace.
  • Bad omen. Batten down the hatches ladies and gentlemen, and keep a weather eye. The mad oracle is dead, by his own hand, and I am wary of what he might have seen.
  • Bloody hell.
  • I've read almost anything Vonnegut has written. He also did that ad for that car company. Because he's a lame old man, like Bob Dylan.
  • We sure love dead people here. We love remembering.
  • "Objective journalism is one of the main reasons that American politics has been allowed to be so corrupt for so long..." -from the Washitngton Post obituary which also features a cool photo.
  • Hmmm...is your point really that these people are lame, or is it that you're awfully darn clever? Help me out here dude...I just stuck up for you when somebody was calling you a dick and questioning your maturity. I can't fucking stand most of the adored old hepsters either, but why bung up a RIP post with animosity?
  • Above re: AS
  • FREE BRUISE BRUBECK
  • That's pretty cool that Uncle Duke from Doonesbury is based on HST. Duke's bio seems full of stuff you could imagine Thompson doing, too.
  • Man, AS, stop being such a jerk.
  • So, was he broke, girl problems, or something other than the usual?
  • "There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die." fuck, i updated my facebook quote with the high-and-beautiful-wave rant in fllv just this fucking morning. jesus. the world just lost a gleaming, shimmering light in the dark. the canary is dead. who's next?
  • A dark day. I guess the Bush years just got too far up the asshole of one of the brightest literay lights of the last century. Never condescending, even when he was mocking the reader, HST had an ear for Americana that rivaled the best Mark Twain and was just as readable. RIP HST and I expect all the rasberies you'll get over the next few days would've been one of your proudest acomplishments. Your writings will outlast us all.
  • Thompson's death was unexpected, but not a shock. Death comes to everyone, celebrities included, as the past year has definitely shown. And while I'll miss those stars, what makes me even sadder is that I am not seeing people in my generation taking up the reins. Where are tomorrow's Lennons, Cashes,and Brandoes? Maybe it's premature, but I'm not seeing them...
  • Ah, shit. Shit shit shit.
  • Saw it on the blue earlier and couldn't muster a response to post it here. Partly denial I guess, too, but it's all over now. The news, that is. I'd like to think it was more about him than the world -- that would be just too fucking depressing.
  • Rest in pieces, you crazy fucker.
  • Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is one of the funniest books I've ever read. RIP, Thompson.
  • Bad craziness. RIP, HST. That really, really, really sucks. He was one of my heroes.
  • Oh fuckity fuck.
  • We should probably just ignore ActuallySettle. Calling him out for his inane comments only seems to encourage him. Yes, I realize I'm calling him out too, but I felt I had to say something this time.
  • What's weird is that around the time it's reported to have happened I was having a conversation with a friend in Boston about an possible upcoming job overseas that would involve a lot of traveling (pilot). We used to party a lot and I told him "I think you might want an attorney to accompany you, of course it will mess up my schedule, but . . ."
  • I really like ActuallySettle and the work of HST.
  • I always felt that Ralph Steadman's illustrations were the perfect companion to Thompson's writing, my favorite being The Curse of Lono.
  • HST interview quote: I've always felt like a Southerner. And I always felt like I was born in defeat. And I may have written everything I've written just to win back a victory. My life may be pure revenge. Indeed. RIP.
  • Let the record show that HST never lost control, and that his final act was one of defiance. We did not lose this man to motorcycle spinouts, an ether binge, or the GOP. A lesser man would have died ages ago, and have been forgotten for almost as long. While the good doctor was well-acquainted with Death, he never went under. For retiring undefeated, HST, we salute you. Thanks for everything, doctor.
  • "You better take care of me Lord, if you don't you're gonna have me on your hands." -Raoul Duke, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
  • What the hell is happening in this country and this existence to cause Hunter to give up like this? i don't see it as "giving up," simply choosing his own time and place. he lived and died in his own unique way. journalism used to be populated by scads of similiar characters. now newsrooms are more like insurance offices. *raises high a glass of cockpunch*
  • So long and Mahalo.
  • "And that, I think, was the handle---that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting---on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark---the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back." farewell you bastard.
  • I never really much cared for him, but the man could write one hell of a sentence. A real talent, and a real loss. RIP.
  • I never knew him, but friends of mine did. A finer abuser of narcotics there has never been. A brilliant sonofabitch. Singapore Slings for everyone!
  • I'm guessing AS broke into his parents liquor cabinet and is honoring HST by writing while inebriated. Remember AS, you are walking in the steps of a giant. RIP HST.
  • god fucking damnit. . . what's left in this world when a gentle spring rain can turn a forest pool into black stinking scum and sex can kill you? Nothing but TV and relentless masturbation. /paraphrase from memory from Generation of Swine. fuck. This diminishes us all.
  • You people are hard-core
  • i wonder if gonzo and sandra dee are having fascinating conversations right now look at me, i'm sandra deeeeee, lousy with virginityyyyyyy....
  • I bet Sandra could knock 'em back something fierce.
  • Nice little tribute on Doonesbury. I think the doctor would approve.
  • A great shame. The closest thing remaining to Thompson is Warren Ellis' Spider Jerusalem character.
    So...you've been a member for four days? Actually Settle's been here since June of 2004.
    Of all the stupid memes we could import from MetaFilter, can we not have this one. Length of tenure has nothing to do with quality of behavour.
  • Shut it, n00b.
  • I am really, really bummed out about this. Just last week I was laughing about the Doctor's plans for Shotgun Golf. And this morning I see his photo in the paper resting in my driveway. I get closer and see the words "found dead". "Oh, shit! Oh, fuck no!" I still can't quite believe it's true.
  • mygothlaundry: that put a smile on my face for the first time this gray day. Thanks.
  • And given the mood of this country, being that a lot of people in the mood to play golf are also in the mood to shoot something, I think it would take off like a gigantic fad. Indeed. Golf, I hate. Shotgun Golf, now there's something I could get into. And Quidnunc, quit teasing the n00bs.
  • So...you've been a member for four days? I think it's valid if the new person is posting the way JTP was. Bad behaviour shouldn't go unremarked be they new or not-so-new, but someone who is very new should, in my opinion, be reminded that when, presumably, one does not know the other persons posting, calling them assholes and dicks is a bit much. Otherwise they are likely to start off badly by pissing people off, which serves no purpose, really. Hence the nudge. Would it be better to stand back and watch them do the bull-in-a- china-shop thing? New people joining any community are expected to try and get the hang of the new people and place; otherwise it's not a community but a random crowd.
  • What rodgerd said.
  • Ok fine. I stand corrected. Let the noobs fall as they may :)
  • Why would I do that? Because you, squid, and rogerd have been around this community longer than I, and might be expected to better represent how the community may feel about this issue. And so it goes.
  • Maybe you've had one of those moments where you're sitting there minding your business, and your roommate comes over to your room and announces, "Hunter Thompson is dead." No? It happened to me, last night, and the moment was so surprising, I just had to say it. "Hunter...S...Thompson?" The same. He was found shot, by his own hand, by his son, a version of Hunter Thompson without the bile and confusion of the latter years, but also without the wit and genius of Thompson's prime years. Just a regular joe. A joe who happens to still be alive, but still. It's always surprising to hear news of this nature. As I commented after processing the information, with guys like Thompson, you never expect to see that they've died until you see the news that they've died. Common sense, I know, but the kind that never gets spoken aloud. The bizarre nature of death, coupled with America's belief in the eternal soul of celebrity, leads us to befuddlement whenever a Big Name takes the last trip to Rancho Relaxo in the Sky. Not that it affects me beyond the visceral first shock of hearing the news. I may be more likely to read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas or Hell's Angels, but on the whole, I will go on, my heart will go on, and after a few days will have stopped thinking about a thin man who had trouble talking without the use of ellipses, whose favourite pasttimes were LSD flashbacks, and whose profile and lifestyle became a model for Uncle Duke in Doonesbury. At least Thompson's philosophies regarding reporting weren't hypocritical. He recognized that the reporter could never be truly separated from the story. From the ashes of faux objectivity rose Gonzo journalism, hyper-subjective reporting that, for Thompson, could only be achieved through the consumption of obscene amounts of drugs. Not perhaps the best way to approach news journalism, but the idea behind it is at least honest. So Dr. Hunter Thompson passes into the ether, as countless have before. The sadness and low-brow infantilism of his latter years, the decline in quality of writing, will and should be overshadowed by his greater works, and that's a good thing. A man with the qualities and conscience of Thompson was almost damned from the beginning to make big mistakes after having big successes. He was, so to speak, the angel with dirty wings and a dirty face. Given the political atmosphere of the country in his later years, it is not surprising in the least that he became a character in his own farce, becoming subservient to politics of de-humanization and demonization. Yet he will be remembered more as the voice of his generation, a fella who, beyond the Beats and the Hippies, carried the sentiments of everyone and no one; a damned fine writer in his heyday. There are worse things to be in life.
  • Man...sorry squid and roger; sometimes I get so annoying I even irritate myself. Disregard last comment...Jesus God in heaven, I need to get more work so I'll have more of a life...;)
  • I liked HST in my freshman year of college, which was in the early 80s. But the act got old for me very soon after that, and I think the guy had been kind of a parody of himself for, like, the last 20 years of his life, at least in terms of public persona and work output. But this is based on reports of his public appearances and limited reading of HST's writing from the past 20 years; I may be completely wrong, and would love to hear about writings that disprove my thesis. Anyone? Bueller? Useless trivia: I used to sleep in the same apartment as HST lived in in the late 60s (on Parnassus in SF), b/c my ex lived there when we were dating.
  • "Or maybe this is all pure gibberish- a product of the demented imagination of a lazy drunken hillbilly with a heart full of hate who has found a way to live out there where the real winds blow- to sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whiskey and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested.... Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll." (I just copied that from the bottom of my biography on my website, where it's been for some time. Among all the cautious, spinless, PC, irrelevant crap that has been passed off as writing in the late 20th and early 21st century, Hunter S. Thompson was the real thing. He should be remembered as a guy that "took a lot of drugs and liked guns" in the same way that F Scott Fitzgerald should be remembered as some guy who drank a lot.)
  • Too sad that one of the strangest, best minds of a generation is gone. I'll raise a glass to the man.
  • Well said, f8xmulder.
  • HawthornWingo: you're right. Thompson's last great book, "generation of swine," was published in the 80s. He didnt do his best work in his later years. But as far as I know, neither has any other great writer in history. You should, however, check out his Nixon obituary from 1994: If the right people had been in charge of Nixon's funeral, his casket would have been launched into one of those open-sewage canals that empty into the ocean just south of Los Angeles. He was a swine of a man and a jabbering dupe of a president. Nixon was so crooked that he needed servants to help him screw his pants on every morning. Even his funeral was illegal. He was queer in the deepest way. His body should have been burned in a trash bin. These are harsh words for a man only recently canonized by President Clinton and my old friend George McGovern--but I have written worse things about Nixon, many times, and the record will show that I kicked him repeatedly long before he went down. I beat him like a mad dog with mange every time I got a chance, and I am proud of it. He was scum.
  • Whaaaaaa! well, this calls for a celabration! Peyote, rye, and I think I'll make a salade dube as well. The man had very good timing, except he waited two years two long to retire. I wonder if he did motorcycle tricks? Heres to the brave new world he will be seeing in his after life. And a unhappy aniversary to Kurt Cobain, who joined he ranks of the "too scared to live not too afraid to die" star peoples.
  • So.. Murray or Depp? I have to give the nod to the former.
  • So I asked around work today, hoping that someone would surprise me by knowing who he was, but other than the receptionist, no one had any idea until I mentioned "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas", and then only because they'd heard of the movie. This has happened to me twice before, when Phil Hartman and then Spalding Gray died (although I didn't even bother with Gray ... "y'know, "Swimming to Cambodia"? "The Killing Fields"? Never mind). It makes me feel really alone and depressed. Just saying is all.
  • Murray or Depp? I don't know ... Depp really did a lot of work submerging himself in the role, spending tons of time with Thompson, and was very convincing, but Murray seemed more of a natural.
  • So, has anyone heard anything about why he might have done this? Aside from life itself, of course. I heard that he'd been in decline for a while, and that his public appearances for the past year or so had been in a wheelchair. Was it a specific "condition" or just many decades of brutal living finally calling in the chips? I'm almost moved to go get a bottle of whiskey and a 44 magnum loaded with tracer rounds, to watch that hot metal hurtling across the night sky. Hope there's a bit less Fear and Loathing on the other side, but don't take any guff from those fuckers!
  • Hey drjimmy - I just put that same quote from the introduction to Generation of Swine on my blog too. Sigh. . . Here, from the same source, is the quote I tried to do from memory this morning: There are times, however - and this is one of them - when even being right feels wrong. What do you say, for instance, about a generation that has been taught that rain is poison and sex is death? If making love might be fatal and if a cool spring rain on any summer afternoon can turn a crystal blue lake into a puddle of black poison scum right in front of your eyes, there is not much left except TV and relentless masturbation. Writers hit me hard when they go, for some reason, harder than others. And then, I thought the thing he wrote for Rolling Stone on the 2004 election was him getting his groove back, I was so hoping for more politics from the Doctor.
  • scartol: definitely Murray.
  • According to the news right now, a neighbour says HST was in pain due to a broken leg and hip surgery.
  • Now, why wold he do this? I hate and despise the act of suicide, so maybe it's because of that that I hope Thompson had a very good reason for this. A diagnosis of terminal illness: advanced cancer or cirrhosis or emphysema or hepC, for instance. I don't mean to say that mental illness isn't a very good reason to do oneself in. But Thompson had every reason to know he wasn't the stablest person in the stable. Why choose now? On preview: okay. He was in pain . A body like his probably couldn't put up with much more abuse.
  • I went to Vegas for the first time this weekend, and in the airport on my way home this morning I see this in the paper. And I was so angry. It's creepy and maddening to me. I braved Circus Circus to see if he was right. I...arg. I'm jetlagged and sleep-deprived, so all I can think of are swears. Beer hour tomorrow's dedicated to you, Doc.
  • How old was Hemmingway when he shot himself? Journalists with guns?
  • Pain? I'm pretty sure he had some decent painkillers laying around somewhere.
  • Murray all the way. (although everything else about that movie sort of sucked)
  • A broken leg, hip surgery, a lifetime of drugs, booze, pain, seeing the world the way it really is - it's amazing the guy made it as long as he did.
  • I'm sure it was the mental pain, not the physical pain. And probably the prospect of old age.
  • The thing about suicide is it's rarely made up of thing. Lots ingredients go into that stew.
  • "rarely made up of one thing", that is.
  • I obviously dont know the cause here. But in general I take issue when people start throwing around terms like "weak" and "cowardly" about suicides. Your typical suicide is the end result of a mental illness, which is just as real as a physical illness. It's like calling someone a coward for dying of cancer.
  • Oh, shit. Found out about HST this morning, and I've been in a bit of a haze over it. I had the good fortune to read F&LILV when I was in tenth grade... old enough to get it, young and impressionable enough to be influenced by it. That novel had a profound effect on me... HST's wit and anger were so fucking inspiring. This sucks.
  • What drjimmy said. Think about how much mental anguish you would have to be in to end your life. Folks who commit suicide are in that much anguish.
  • Furthering drjimmy's comment, one of my big pet peeves is when people talk about how angry they are about someone they know committing suicide. Where's the compassion in that attitude?
  • I suppose you bastards put whales back in the ocean too! A guy like Hunter feels like hes been at a party too long. Well all the cokes gone,(quite possibly a metaphor as well[cocain is the equivilant of that happiness drug that the brain releases or something]) I don't feel like any more beer, I think I'll go for a piss, shine up the pistol and exit stage left. I'll just follow that f--kin monkey.
  • HawthorneWingo, because a loved one's suicide hurts. My own reaction to suicides (and I've had a few in my life) isn't immediate compassion, it's outraged grief (and anger is a part of that). There's no logic to the reaction. Sure, I didn't know Thompson. I know what the aftermath of suicide feels like, though. I think it sucks that he blew his brains out in his house, where his wife presumably lives, and that his son had to be the one that found him. It tarnishes what I really appreciated about him and what I thought was a constant line through his work - don't be an asshole and leave a big fucking ugly mess for other people to clean up.
  • "We are on our way to an orgy, in a mansion not far from the sea, and the girls are drinking champagne from a magnum we brought from Dunhills, the chic and famous restaurant. There is a wet parking ticket flapping under the windshield wiper in front of me, and it bores me. I am giddy from drink, and the lesbians are waving their champagne glasses at oncoming police cars, laughing gaily and smoking strong marijuana in a black pipe as we cruise along Ocean Boulevard at sunrise, living our lives like dolphins..."
  • Crackpot, you seem to have hit a note. Riff on.
  • I am so positive that HST would've known exactly what painkillers would take care of any pain issues from the leg or the surgery. I think the reason has to lie elsewhere.
  • Mrs. Tool just sent me a link to her paper's daily blog, wherein lies the following story of a brief exchange between President Clinton and Hunter Thompson while here in Little Rock:
    And then [Clinton] turned to Hunter Thompson, of all people, and said with wholehearted fervor, 'We're going to put one hundred thousand new police officers on the street.' I was up all night persuading Hunter that this was not a personal threat.
    Wonderful.
  • Note that the son is 40, which means he's totally uncool.
  • He was on the phone with his wife when he shot himself. (NYT link) That's horrendous. That poor woman.