Hunter S. Thompson is dead. I found out last night at a bar, and decided to experiment with a new form of alcohol, so despirte being totally broke I downed a $5 shot of green chartruse(however its spelled) in his honor. My hands are too fucked up to proprerly go off about this, but the abbreviated version is that I will never understand why the wrong people decide its a good idea to shoot themselves in the head.
As though I needed any more reason to feel depressed, or further proof that the idiot merehumes are winning.
http://thebosh.com/archives/2005/02/cult_author_hun.php