A Savage Journey To The Heart Of The American Dream
Sometimes Mother's Day inspires you to watch Fear and Loathing and dress up as Hunter S. Thompson. By that I mean, put on a crazy striped button up shirt, cool green jacket, fisherman's hat, crazy shades, flyswatter, and cigarette and walk around your house in said get-up. This inspires your mother to ask, "What the hell is wrong with you?" And you laugh and saunter and hit things with a flyswatter. And say, "Righty oh, man. Righty oh." So, yeah. That's what I did today. But it really made me miss Hunter S. Thompson and gave me the strong urge to get all of his collective works and read feverishly and also to trip off adrenochrome (which of course can only be extracted from the adrenaline gland from a living human being, any takers?) and have the most fucked up experience ever just for the dear Doctor. "Just another freak in the freak kingdom."
"Psychedelic drugs are no good in this town."
Here's some actual Hunter S. Thompson and Johnny Depp as Thompson and below is me doing a damn good ass job as Hunter and talking to a happy pear bank cuz you know he's probably done worse during acid frenzies.
"I suspect writing is a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." -The Good Doctor; I love this man.
EDIT: I didn't/ don't really want to kill such a fun entry with shit but, apparently I talk to Zac again. And, I hate things. and shit. FUCK.
Up Against The Wall Mother!
"Buy the ticket, take the ride."
With flyswatter; having a very serious discussion with the happy pear bank in the dark.