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R.I.P., HST
Just got in on a rainy night in the devil's cauldron of Liberalism and Feel-Good Sinnery, having contributed positive vibes to the taping of the Naked Trucker and T-Bones' DVD at the Troubadour, when I learned via the internets the Hunter S. Thompson killed himself today.
I read the Great Shark Hunt when I was 18. I dressed as the good Dr. for Halloween my freshman year for the South Street debauch in Philly.
My dorm room was adorned with a homemade poster, the opening quote to Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: "He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man- Dr. Johnson."
Read his final column , Shotgun Golf with Bill Murray, here.
Maybe the Rapture has begun, and the Lord took the truest of believers before the going got really weird.
R.I.P.
wikki wikki, bruddah
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(images from Ralph Steadman's website)