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mental invalid

getting weird for devil's day - hunter thompson

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...as if this needs an introduction...happie halloween....rOe



Getting weird for

Devil's Day

By Hunter S. Thompson

Page 2 columnist



Hot damn, it is Halloween again, and I am ready to get weird in public. Nevermind anthrax for today. The Yankees won, but so what? That's what I said to that fruitbag who claimed to be Sean Penn when he called earlier. "Screw you," I said. He was drunk, so I knew right away that it wasn't Sean Penn. "Get out of my face!" I screamed at him. "You are the same squalid freak who called here a few days ago and said he was Muhammad Ali. What's wrong with you?"



"I need advice," said the voice. "Should I jump into the Honolulu Marathon this year? I desperately need a Personal Challenge to conquer. My blood is filling up with some kind of poison."




"Nonsense," I said. "You are just another jackass looking for attention. I'll give your lame ass a beating if I ever catch you sneaking around My house, you sleazy little Freak!"




I didn't care who he was, by then. He was just another geek in a Halloween parade, to my way of thinking. And for all I knew he was dangerous -- maybe some kind of murderous off-duty cop with two guns and a bottle of whiskey in his pocket. I wanted no part of him, especially not on a day like Halloween.


But why not humor him? I thought. Nobody needs this kind of Foul Ball drunk coming into his yard at night. So I lowered my voice and gave him a break. "OK," I said. "I will help you, just don't come anywhere near me."





"I am Sean Penn," the voice said calmly. "Should I or should I not enter the Honolulu Marathon in December? That's all I need to know."



"Yes," I said. "You should definitely enter it. I will go with you, if necessary. But don't call them today. Do it tomorrow, not today. Nobody will believe a thing you say on a horrible day like Halloween. ... And don't use the damn telephone anymore! They'll hunt you down and dice you up like a squid -- just go to bed and stay out of sight until noon. That is when the bogeyman sleeps, and so do I. So get out of my face and never call me again!" Then I howled in a low animal voice and hung up the phone.




"These freaks should all be put to sleep," I said to Anita. "Let's go out on the town and get weird."




"Wonderful," she chirped. "We will put on our costumes and throw eggs at foreigners. What are you going to wear?"




"Only this turban, and a jock strap," I said. "And some lipstick. They love lipstick."




Anita was dressed up as the coach of the New York Giants. "They are Losers," she said. "It is okay to mock Losers, right?"




"Yes," I said, "It is righteous to mock Losers in this country. We are Number One."




"Thank you," she said. "You must be a sportswriter."




"You bet," I replied. "We are going to fly to Hawaii with Sean Penn next month. You will probably need a new Rolex."




"Yes." She nodded. "We will have to be inconspicuous for that kind of travel. Is he still Drinking?"




"No." I replied. "He is going into training for the Honolulu Marathon. Perhaps we should stop drinking too."




"Not today," she said with a wink. "Today is the Devil's day."




She was right, of course -- although some people will tell you that the Devil has had a lot of Days, recently. They see him behind every bush. He lurks like an Evil spirit. He is terrifying.


And who is to say they are wrong? Which of us will hurl the first stone at these chicken-heads? Not me, buster. I know these people. They are Devils. ... Which may be true, but so what? Even a blind pig finds an acorn now and then.




Just then my phone rang. "Not that Freak again," I muttered -- but I was wrong. It was my old friend John Wilber, calling from Hawaii, and his voice was very excited. "You'll never believe this," he said. "Sean Penn wants to run in the Marathon. He just called Doc Barhal and confirmed it."




"No!" I shouted. "That's impossible. He's asleep downstairs in my basement, and there is no phone in that room. Don't you know what day this is? It's Halloween, you jackass!" And then I quickly hung up on him.




"I can't stand this crap anymore." I said to Anita. "Let's get out of here. We can watch the game at the Jerome. What do these swine think I am -- a fool?"




"Who cares?" She said with a shrug.


"No," I said. "I'll do the driving tonight. We might run into the Saudi Ambassador along the way -- and you know how he flies off the handle if he thinks he sees a woman driving a car."




She agreed, and we drove into town without incident and got to the Jerome Bar just as the Knicks-Wizards game was getting underway…. But no. I was wrong again. All five TV sets, including the 50-incher in the back room, were tuned to the World Series. And the bartender laughed when I asked him to switch at least one of them over to the basketball game. "Are you nuts?" he jeered. "This is a men's bar! We don't watch no stinking basketball here."




"You brainless animal!" I snarled at him. "You just lost the whole ESPN account. You'll be fired for this!"




"Get out of here!" he yelled. "Or I'll set fire to that rotten-looking turban you're wearing!" He lit a book of matches and waved it at me.




So we left and went down to the county jail, where I knew the prisoners would be watching the NBA game, because I knew the jailer hated baseball. He was a Michael Jordan fan -- so I gave him the Wizards and five points, and I was wrong again. They lost by only two, which completely ruined my night. I had to pay off all the prisoners, too. I can still hear them laughing at us on our way out.

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Guest BROWNer

heh heh..'it is righteous to mock Losers in this country.'.....

where does he have his column roe? a link?

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"Only this turban, and a jock strap," I said. "And some lipstick. They love lipstick."


...HAHAHA...i mean really?....the doctor of gonzo, god bless him....twinks heres a link for ya:





...i think he has got a column every monday.... this was a previous to the one posted:



Foul balls and rash predictions

By Hunter S. Thompson

Page 2 columnist


Two teams that will not play in the Super Bowl for another

eight years are the Denver Broncos and the screwy Indianapolis Colts. That much is clear beyond doubt. They are Losers, doomed like blind pigs in a jungle of snakes and hyenas. The Colts are chicken crap, and the Broncos won't even make the playoffs. They have humiliated me for the last time.

Aside from that, I feel juiced up and ready to make a few rash statements and irresponsible predictions about this week's games. So stand back and prepare to be enlightened. The fat is in the fire.


San Francisco and Cleveland will meet in the Super Bowl, and

the Browns will be stomped like cheap grapes. The Yankees will lose the

World Series and R.J. will throw two no-hitters, then overdose on tobacco and announce his retirement from the game.


Are we cooking yet? If not, let's blurt out some more. I see

the Rams losing to New Orleans by one point, Oakland whipping the Eagles by 10, and the 49ers beating the snot out of the phony Chicago Bears in a blinding fog-storm. Dallas will win big over Arizona, New England will beat Denver by 15, and UCLA will embarrass Stanford.


These are only a few of the many far-reaching visions I've

endured in the past two days. I have been working around the clock to finish the first 88 pages of my long-awaited Memoir, titled "Sex and Justice in the Kingdom of Fear," which will be in bookstores next year.


Last week was extremely busy. I spent most of it doing

top-secret surveillance work on some of my neighbors who are obviously up to no good and need to be watched closely. I have always hated Evil-doers, and now that the President has given us a green light to crush them by any means necessary, I see my duty clearly. Dangerous creeps are everywhere, and our only hope is to neutralize them with extreme prejudice. These freaks have taken their shot(s), and now it is our turn.


The first thing I did was beef up my guest-list for the weekend football games. Running full-time surveillance on unsuspecting people

is extremely taxing work for quasi-professional operatives with no

funding, but I am blessed with deep background experience in the spook business, and I know a few top-secret shortcuts that simplify the process



One of them is to always act normal and calm in situations of

extreme danger. If your job is to survey and record every moment in

the life of a Foul Ball who might be growing Anthrax spores in his

basement, for instance, you will learn far more about his brain patterns by inviting him into your home for a nine-hour marathon of disturbing football games on TV than you will ever learn by surveying him through a telescope from a frozen creek-bed in a pasture near his hideout. With luck, you might catch him in the act of fondling a foreign flag, or prancing around his parlor wearing nothing but a turban and a black jockstrap -- but that will not be enough, in the way of hard evidence, to justify terminating him with extreme prejudice. There is a big difference between croaking a harmless pervert and callously murdering a close relative of the Saudi Ambassador.


Any Evil-doer with the brains to plot lethal damage against our national infrastructure will also be degenerate enough to protect his

Evil cover by faking great enthusiasm for watching and gambling on American football games.


He will not want to talk about his job, but ask him anyway.

"How is it going at work, Omar? Are you cool with it? Are you meeting enough girls? Are you a gambling man? Do you have any extra hashish? Why are you looking at me that way? What's eating you?" It is better to load him up with booze and goofy chatter than to make him suspicious by staring at his hands and constantly taking notes.


Whoops! I think I see him jogging out there on the road, right

in from of my gate. Why not go out and offer him some hot water? Yes, of course, do it now. Remember to watch your back. I'm out of here.





....HAHAHAHAHA - "do you have any extra hashish?"...oh man, some decent chuckles from the doctor....rOe

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i cannot believe i still have more posts than you invalid, ah well, at least you've got something good to add to this here bitch festival. if you've got some free time and like to read i'll suggest gonzo papers, volume I. it's got some hot stories in it, especially the one where hunter and his english illustrator cronie get fucked up in newport, ri while covering the, whatsitcalled, world cup race, or something, and decide to go paint on one of the heavily guarded boats. lots of political bullshit however, mcgovern, jimmy carter, nixon, etc. but it's also interesting to me nonetheless because of what kind of a world it was back in the late sixties, early seventies. if you only read two stories read the carter law day piece as well, well there are actually two about that, the account of the day, funny in it's own right (hunter periodically filling up on wild turkey out of the secret service limosine trunk), and the actual speech itself which is a must read.

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...yeah i gots crazy cyber space up, what?!....yeah so i am averaging 5.77 posts a day what?!...my job in corporate cubicle hell sucks...hahahahaha...youd post alot too if ya had eight hours to kill...im a m-f/9-5 12 ouncer...its goin on my next resume....as far as hunter thompson goes, i love his political work...fear and loathing on the campaign trail of 72, was not only hunter at his best, but his political analysis is brilliant and his analysis of the campaign, the fall of mcgovern and the rise of nixon, and the media, the public, the historical persepective is borderline academic...its not an easy read and certainly you need to like politics, but if you do then it is the book for you...



closing in 23578-and seeking in the radar


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