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Hunter S. Thompson dead at 67

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  • Hunter S. Thompson dead at 67

    There are flash flood warnings, I think I have a leak, the thunderstorms keep waking up my daughter, and now this:

    The latest news and headlines from Yahoo! News. Get breaking news stories and in-depth coverage with videos and photos.

    Bah, I am going to pour myself a Wild Turkey in his name, and then curse him for going out like that.

    Of course, it makes sense. He died as he lived, on his own terms and when he said so.
    Last edited by Jared; 02-21-2005, 01:19 AM.

    Everybody's gotta elevate from the norm...

    The greatest list of music I don't own on CD :sad:
    You should check these guys out

  • #2
    That's messed up...

    Fear and Loathing is the most messed up, random, makes no sense, hilarious movie I've ever seen.



    • #3
      Originally posted by RealBronco
      That's messed up...

      Fear and Loathing is the most messed up, random, makes no sense, hilarious movie I've ever seen.

      I loved that movie. I use to take acid when I was younger and watch that movie and Pink Floyd The Wall...

      Its really too bad that people feel it necessary to go and kill themselves. It seems pointless to me, life can never be that bad, but if it does, it will always get better. Been there, done that.


      • #4
        In addition to the books he wrote, Thompson also wrote some pieces for ESPN.Com. Even in such a short piece, it's easy to see his brilliance as a writer.

        I'm sure we can all relate to this one.
        The Good Doctor knows a driving blizzard stings a little more in Denver when you lose to the Raiders.

        Broncos' state of emergency
        By Hunter S. Thompson
        Page 2

        "The Raiders culture was harder to penetrate than the Hell's Angels."
        -- HST, 11/30/04

        The blizzard of '04 whacked Colorado on Sunday, just as the Denver-Oakland game was kicking off to a vicious roar of 76,000 Bronco fanatics who needed to squash the Raiders. The Broncos were on a roll, tied for first in the AFC West and hungry to get back to the Super Bowl. The last thing on their minds was losing to the hated Raiders.

        No. That was impossible. The Broncos were heavily favored -- by 11 points, according to Sunday's Denver Post -- and the Raiders were a hapless 3-7 coming into the game.

        It was a lock. Not one of the poor bastards out there in that blizzard was there because he wanted to be beaten like a clumsy dog on worldwide TV -- certainly not by the low-crawling Raiders. They were the scum of the NFL, mired at the nadir of pro football's nasty Parity cycle.

        In my heart, I am always a Raider.

        We were deep into the frozen fourth quarter of the game when my telephone rang and interrupted my thoughts.

        It was my famous neighbor, DJ, who said he was about to commit suicide because he had finally run out of whiskey.

        "I can't stand it anymore," he whispered. "If you don't bring me whiskey, I will die. Please help me."

        It was not the kind of call you want to get on a night like this, while the storm rages outside your windows -- so I hung up on him and threw two more logs onto the fire.

        "He must be crazy drunk," I said to Anita. "Only a helpless sot would call me for whiskey on a savage night like this."

        I have always loved blizzards, if only because of the driving experience -- which is definitely an acquired taste. It is not for the weak of heart, or for casual amateur drivers. They are doomed to pain and suffering if they ever go out in a blizzard with an automobile. This is absolutely certain to happen, so do yourself a favor and take my word for it. Mahalo.

        We shot out of the driveway, going far too fast for conditions, but just about right for a championship snow-driving fool in the right kind of car on an empty mountain road in Colorado. Yes. It was my kind of night.

        The football game was long since over, but I still felt the pain of it. The Broncos had been more or less in charge of things for the first three quarters; but weird things happened in the fourth, when their pass defense suddenly collapsed and the Raiders ran wild in the snow.

        It was a beautiful thing to see, for some people -- but for those 77,216 Bronco loyalists who suffered through it, all the way to the end, it was a nightmare from hell. Suddenly, the score was tied, and a strange hush came over the crowd. Their finest hopes and dreams were about to be crushed, right in front of their freezing eyes. It was horrible. The Super Bowl suddenly seemed a millions miles away. The final score was 25-24. Selah.

        Just before midnight, we pulled into DJ Ranch to deliver the booze. He was sweeping softly, wearing his wife's mink coat. But his eyes lit up when he saw the quart of whisky. He seized the bottle with both hands and drank deeply.

        The game had meant nothing to him

        "The Gagne T-shirt jersey comes with a complimentary can of gasoline and a set of matches."