“We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like “I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive …” And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?”
– Hunter S. Thompson/Raoul Duke, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Reckless enough to have many adventures, disciplined enough to turn them into stories.
Hunter S. Thompson’s stories of over-the-top benders in fancy hotels and getting up close and personal with the dark underbelly of the American Dream have inspired many an adventure of my own, but what I love the most is his ability to reflect on and critique each one of his experiences.
To fuck shit up, to get fucked up, but to remain lucid enough to write it all down and analyze it with style — now, that’s the dream. After all, what’s the point of getting debauched without some sort of takeaway?
Clothing items and accessories
[Optional] Cigarette holder or vape pen
White crew-cut socks