Team Murder No Brain No Headache.


Just Because You’re Housebroken Doesn’t Mean I Trust You In My House

So, as you've read everywhere else, Hunter S. Thompson is dead. I heard the verbal equivalent to those godawful AP feeds that everyone has been linking up like they're gold fucking bullion on the news last night and for a couple of seconds I didn't really believe it. I assumed it was some variety of prank unleashed by he-who-was-once-terror-personified. Stupid assumption on my part and it turns out that indeed Mr. Thompson is in the past tense. I've been reading through absurd numbers of weblog posts and they just leave me feeling less enchanted with weblogs in general. When we own the media (my sincerest apologies to the necessary folks) we're also responsible for it being utter garbage. And by utter garbage I don't mean a bunch of stuff that I personally disagree with but more like a bunch of stuff that nobody means.

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  1. Damn goneaway, I was looking forward to you being the most worthwhile of the rememberances, but then again, perhaps that is just what I got.

    Really though, I thought about you when I heard the news, and it does kinda seem that you got it more than anyone else did.

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