"We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half-full of cocaine and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... Also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls... But the only thing that worried me was the ether. There is nothing more helpless and irresponsible than a man in the depths of an ether binge..."
Hunter S Thompson died yesterday, two of his books, Fear and Loathing in
Taking his own life seems fitting; I did not see HST becoming a very old man complaining about his prostate medication giving him the shits.