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Artist creates Hunter S. Thompson’s ‘Fear and Loathing’ head sculpture

Well, to be more precise, it’s Johnny Depp’s head as he looked when he portrayed Dr. Hunter S. Thompson in Terry Gilliam’s 1998 film adaptation of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. It’s still pretty neat, though.

The tripped-out sculpture was made by special effects makeup artist Kevin Kirkpatrick of Epoch Creations. It’s made of silicone, the teeth are dental acrylic and actual human hair was used to create its “hyper-realistic” look. It’s a total mind-melting masterpiece, in my opinion.

Kevin has a pretty damned impressive resume to boot! He’s worked on Bad Grandpa as a prosthetic makeup artist, American Horror Story: Freakshow responsible for doing Pepper’s pinhead makeup, the prosthetic makeup for True Blood and many, many more. Honestly, his movie and television resume is endless. You can check it out here.

He also has a fun Instagram to follow if you’re so inclined.




Posted by Tara McGinley | Leave a comment
Dispatches from the edge of the toilet bowl: Hunter S. Thompson’s deranged ‘hangover cure’

Since this is a “hangover cure” prescribed by the good Dr. Hunter S. Thompson I wouldn’t get too excited about it actually working, much less the notion that you’d actually survive the experience of taking Thompson up on his extreme advice on how to rid yourself of a hangover.

In this hand-scrawled letter from Thompson (penned on his Thompson’s own Rolling Stone Magazine “National Correspondent” letterhead) to then-Playboy editor David Butler, Thompson reveals his terrifyingly gonzo solution for ridding yourself of a hangover. Thompson was on assignment for the magazine tasked with writing an article about a fishing competition in Cozumel, Mexico which would become The Great Shark Hunt. In the event that you’re suffering from a hangover right now, I’ve transcribed Thompson’s dubious instructions below. Which in no way should be considered an endorsement of the good doctor’s advice:

P.S.—inre: Qui’s request for “my hangover cure”—it’s 12 Amyl Nitrates (one box), in conjunction with as many beers as necessary. OK H

I’ve had my fair share of hangovers and if you have too then you know how horrible they are, and that while suffering through a particular bad one that you’d consider selling your first-born if it meant this would relieve your self-inflicted symptoms. While there’s really no cure for a hangover (I’m looking at you delicious Bloody Mary) outside of not drinking alcohol I’m here to tell you that the only person who probably ever followed Thompson’s advice is likely no longer with us. Much like the thrill-seeking journalist himself. An image of Thompson’s “prescription” follows.

More after the jump…

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FREAK POWER: Hunter S. Thompson’s wildly entertaining 1970 run for sheriff
10:16 am


Hunter S. Thompson

In 1970 a British news show called This Week sent a crew to Colorado to document Hunter S. Thompson‘s unusual campaign to become sheriff of Aspen. It should come as no surprise that the documentary they ended up making is just dynamite, a marvelous, evocative document of the culture clash soon after the Woodstock/Altamont moment.

The program, titled “Show Down at Aspen,” states that in the prior contest for the same position in 1966, the longhairs came quite close to stealing away the election by sheer stealth but that this year, all sides were very much on the alert. Carrol D. Whitmire, the incumbent, was looking to garner enough support to stave off the rumblings of the upstart potheads and their chosen maverick candidate Dr. Gonzo.

Let’s start with the resonant, unmistakably British voiceover, which early on describes HST,  not uncharitably, as “a hippie, a freak, an acid-head who openly smokes grass.” The show sets up the electoral contest as a battle between the older, more established residents of the ski resort and the long-haired newcomers who show no respect for the town’s status as a tourist attraction for the well-heeled—and then has the wit to undercut that very framing by cannily showing a smattering of “established” voters leaning for Thompson and younger ones not quite able to swallow Thompson’s schtick.

The first half has some truly fantastic footage of some hippies skinny-dipping (NSFW) and then passing around a few joints on the shore. A young Aspen police officer ambles down the slope to meet them—“a ‘pig,’ as the hippies normally call the police”—and quite astonishingly is shown enjoying one of the blunts and cheerfully admitting on camera that he smokes marijuana. (That guy should’ve been the poster child for a new generation of police officers that never came to pass.)

A few minutes later, a trio of elderly male Republicans describe their feared vision of an Aspen with HST in control. Those two sections, the pot use by the stream and the nattering of the out-of-touch old guard, make this show an absolute must-see.

Image from the Gonzo Gallery in Aspen, CO
The documentary explains that the result of the vote will hinge on turnout. The “freaks” are motivated, to be sure, but if enough of the regular solid citizens make their way to the polls, then HST’s chances will commensurately plummet. In the event, it emerges that turnout was indeed quite high—Whitmire was able to beat Thompson by a tally of roughly 1,500 to 1,000. Based on the evidence we see, Whitmire wasn’t hassling the drug users very much, and (let’s face it) in political terms (at least) Thompson is two steps away from a total nut. In the final analysis, it was Whitmire’s essential amiability that probably secured his victory.

The British documentary—and more—after the jump…..

Posted by Martin Schneider | Leave a comment
King of Gonzo: Portraits of Hunter S. Thompson by Ralph Steadman
03:16 pm


Hunter S. Thompson
Ralph Steadman

A portrait of Hunter S. Thompson by Ralph Steadman.
Artist Ralph Steadman remained tight with his friend and muse Hunter S. Thompson until the later’s death in 2005—despite the fact that when Steadman first met the gonzo journalist in 1970 he was convinced that Thompson didn’t like him. And he wasn’t wrong.

When Steadman was given the assignment to create illustrations for a story Thompson was penning on the Kentucky Derby for the short-lived publication Scanlan’s Monthly  (The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved June 1970, Volume one, Number four), true to form, the notoriously cantankerous Thompson took an “instant dislike” to him. Steadman recalls that Hunter thought he was “pompous” and during several occasions when he was attempting to create some of the illustrations for the Derby story he could hear Thompson muttering the words “For God’s sake, stop your filthy scribbling.”

Although they got off to a rough start (like the majority of Thompson’s relationships with most human beings) the two would go on to collaborate for decades. I’ve been a fan of Steadman’s art since I was a kid thanks to my father and the confrontational artist was the focus of a great documentary back in 2012 For No Good Reason which I highly recommend you check out. Many of Steadman’s portraits of the great Dr. Gonzo, Hunter S. Thompson follow.


More pure, unadulterated GONZO after the jump…

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The ‘Uncle Duke’ action figure that made Hunter S. Thompson want to ‘rip out’ Garry Trudeau’s lungs

It was 1974 when Gary Trudeau debuted the newest member of his Doonesbury comic crew, “Uncle Duke,” to the world. And the man whom the character was based on, gun-toting Gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson was not pleased. In an interview with High Times, Thompson recalled the moment he became aware of Uncle Duke.

It was a hot, nearly blazing day in Washington, and I was coming down the steps of the Supreme Court looking for somebody, Carl Wagner or somebody like that. I’d been inside the press section, and then all of a sudden I saw a crowd of people and I heard them saying, “Uncle Duke,” I heard the words Duke, Uncle; it didn’t seem to make any sense. I looked around, and I recognized people who were total strangers pointing at me and laughing. I had no idea what the fuck they were talking about. I had gotten out of the habit of reading funnies when I started reading the Times. I had no idea what this outburst meant…It was a weird experience, and as it happened I was sort of by myself up there on the stairs, and I thought: “What in the fuck madness is going on? Why am I being mocked by a gang of strangers and friends on the steps of the Supreme Court? Then I must have asked someone, and they told me that Uncle Duke had appeared in the Post that morning.

Thompson went on to say that “no one grows up wanting to be a cartoon character” and that if he ever caught up with Garry Trudeau, he would “rip his lungs out.” While that never happened, in 1992 Trudeau published book called Action Figure!; The Life and Times of Doonesbury’s Uncle Duke that chronicled the misadventures of Uncle Duke that came with a five-inch action figure of dear Uncle Duke along with a martini glass, an Uzi, cigarette holder, a bottle of booze, and a chainsaw. While Trudeau has never been one to shy away from controversy, this bold move seemed rather suicidal or at the very least a very direct threat to the current location of Trudeau’s lungs. You can actually still find the book and its sneering Uncle Duke action figure on auction sites like eBay and on Amazon like I did.

More images follow, after the jump…

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Stained glass windows of Aleister Crowley, Serge Gainsbourg, Johnny Cash, JG Ballard & many more

In 2010 and 2011 the English artist Neal Fox executed an utterly gorgeous series of stained-glass windows in imitation of the iconography of saints found in cathedrals all over Europe. The series included Johnny Cash, J.G. Ballard, Hunter S. Thompson, Albert Hofmann, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, Serge Gainsbourg, Aleister Crowley, William S. Burroughs, Billie Holiday, and Francis Bacon.

Now, it’s perfectly possible that you will see these images and think, “Wow, those paintings in the stained-glass style are awesome.” So it’s important to emphasize that these are not paintings, Fox actually created the stained-glass windows themselves—in fact, he worked with traditional methods “at the renowned Franz Mayer of Munich manufacturer” in order to produce a dozen windows, each using leaded stained glass in a steel frame and standing 2.5 meters tall.

Put them all together in a room, as the Daniel Blau gallery in London did in 2011, and you have “an alternative church of alternative saints.” Here is what that room looked like:

The Daniel Blau show was called “Beware of the God.” Alongside the well-known provocateurs and trouble-makers like Crowley and Hawkins is a figure that might challenge even the most astute student of antiheroes, a man named John Watson. Far from the complacent invention of Arthur Conan Doyle, this John Watson is the artist’s grandfather, described by his loving grandson as a “hell raiser” and “a World War II bomber pilot, chat show host, writer and publisher, who in his post war years sought solace in Soho’s bohemian watering holes.”

Quoting the Daniel Blau exhibition notes:

As traditional church windows show the iconography of saints, through representations of events in their lives, instruments of martyrdom and iconic motifs, Fox plays with the symbolism of each character’s cult of personality; Albert Hoffman takes a psychedelic bicycle ride above the LSD molecule, J G Ballard dissects the world, surrounded by 20th Century imagery and the eroticism of the car crash, and Johnny Cash holds his inner demon in chains after a religious experience in Nickerjack cave.

You can order prints of some of these images for £150 each (about $214).


Many more after the jump…

Posted by Martin Schneider | Leave a comment
Watch Hunter S. Thompson exchanging gunfire with his neighbors over their cows

Hunter S. Thompson engaged in a dispute with typewritter at his Woody Creek estate the Owl Farm in Colorado
Hunter S. Thompson engaged in a dispute with a typewriter at his Woody Creek estate, the ‘Owl Farm’ in Colorado.
In this gonzo video that very much typifies a day in the life of the great Hunter S. Thompson, we get to see the Dr. Gonzo in his natural setting engaging in a gun battle with his neighbors over what appears to be a dispute concerning his neighbor’s cows. Because this is how disputes are settled when you’re Hunter S. Thompson.
The legendary living room at Hunter S. Thompson's Woody Creek estate, the Owl Farm
The legendary living room at Hunter S. Thompson’s home
The incident took place at Thompson 42.5-acre estate in Woody Creek, Colorado called the “Owl Farm.” A mythical place where Thompson once blew up a Jeep after loading it with dynamite and gasoline. It is also the place where Thompson sadly took his own life on February 20th, 2005. If things go according to plan Thompson’s widow, Anita, will soon turn part of the estate into a museum. Which is why she has left many of the rooms (such as the living room pictured above) at the Owl Farm virtually the way they were over a decade ago when Thompson took leave of this world.

Glorious footage of the great Hunter S. Thompson behaving exactly as you would expect him to, otherwise known as badly, follows.

Footage of Hunter S. Thompson engaged in a gun battle with his Woody Creek neighbors, apparently over cows.

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Adorable Hunter S. Thompson / Hello Kitty sculpture

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Board game based on Hunter S. Thompson’s ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’

We’ve blogged about this wicked-cool board game—loosely based off of Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream—by artist Alyx Baldwin back in 2009, but I see it’s making the rounds again. Plus I think it’s time to give this game another go-round because it deserves the attention. Just look at how much thought and consideration was put into this board game! 

It’s really a work of art.



More after the jump…

Posted by Tara McGinley | Leave a comment
‘You thieving pile of albino warts’: Hunter S. Thompson tears Tom Wolfe a new asshole
04:04 pm


Hunter S. Thompson
Tom Wolfe

Hunter S. Thompson and Tom Wolfe are fated to be forever linked by the rubric “New Journalism,” a loose category of non-traditional, narrative-oriented writers forging a more subjective, personal, and obstreperous style of reporting that emerged in the mid- to late 1960s, a group that included Wolfe, Thompson, Truman Capote, Norman Mailer, Joan Didion, and Gay Talese. The linkage of Thompson and Wolfe as primary avatars of this new form may have been cold comfort at best for HST, the rebellious and angry individualist par excellence.

In 1973 Wolfe, in an attempt to define and assume leadership of the group, published an anthology called The New Journalism, which book included an excerpt from HST’s 1966 book Hell’s Angels as well as his 1970 article “The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved.” Wolfe had already used the phrase a year earlier in the title of a piece for New York Magazine, which was still being edited by the great Clay Felker at that point. 

But in actuality, the term New Journalism had been bandied about quite a bit even before Wolfe’s 1972 pieces for Felker. Always a consummate self-promoter, Wolfe had been using the phrase in 1971 and earlier, as a letter from Thompson conclusively establishes (as do many other sources, most likely.

Wolfe wrote Thompson from Rome on February 25, 1971, and the letter seems innocuous (you can read it on this page). Wolfe indicates that the Italians think Wolfe is weird, “as if I were a new Oldsmobile, nothing more & nothing less.” He discusses the preparations of the New Journalism anthology, praising the Hell’s Angels piece as well as “one of your superb Scanlan’s pieces (too uproarious for words, man).” In the event, Wolfe was true to his word, the Kentucky Derby piece mentioned above did first appear in Scanlan’s.

In a letter dated March 3, HST angrily denounces Wolfe for bad-mouthing him in Rome, which destination HST had plans to visit a year later on a book tour. In the letter Thompson expresses annoyance for linking Thompson with “that horrible ‘new journalism’ shuck you’re promoting”—so even by 1971 Wolfe’s use of the phrase was becoming old hat. (Both of these letters, by the way, can be found in Fear and Loathing in America: The Brutal Odyssey of an Outlaw Journalist, vol. 2.)

Quite simply, Thompson, a writer famed for his use of invective, really outdoes himself in this particular missive—it may very well be the funniest letter I have ever read, full stop.

Here it is:

March 3, 1971
Woody Creek, CO

Dear Tom…

You worthless scumsucking bastard. I just got your letter of Feb 25 from Le Grande Hotel in Roma, you swine! Here you are running around fucking Italy in that filthy white suit at a thousand bucks a day laying all kinds of stone gibberish & honky bullshit on those poor wops who can’t tell the difference . . . while I’m out here in the middle of these goddamn frozen mountains in a death-battle with the taxman & nursing cheap wine while my dogs go hungry & my cars explode and a legion of nazi layers makes my life a goddamn Wobbly nightmare…

You decadent pig. Where the fuck do you get the nerve to go around telling those wops that I’m crazy? You worthless cocksucker. My Italian tour is already arranged for next spring & I’m going to do the whole goddamn trip wearing a bright red field marshal’s uniform & accompanied by six speed-freak bodyguards bristling with Mace bombs & when I start talking about American writers & the name Tom Wolfe comes up, by god, you’re going to wish you were born a fucking iguana!!

OK for that, you thieving pile of albino warts. You better settle your goddamn affairs because your deal is about to go down.  “Unprofessorial,” indeed! You scurvy wop! I’ll have your goddamn femurs ground into bone splinters if you ever mention my name again in connection with that horrible “new journalism” shuck you’re promoting.

Ah, this greed, this malignancy! Where will it end? What filthy weight in your soul has made you sink so low? Doctor Bloor was wright! Hyenas are taking over the world! Oh Jesus!!! What else can I say? Except to warn you, once again, that the hammer of justice looms, and that your filthy white suit will become a flaming shroud!


As far as Thompson’s disavowal of the term “New Journalism” goes, the writer William Kennedy, author of Ironweed, isn’t so sure, saying in the oral history Gonzo: The Life of Hunter S. Thompson that HST “liked the idea of being part of the New Journalism ... but Hunter wanted more; he wanted to transcend it, and he did. He wanted to be singular, and he was.”

Lest you imagine that animosity represented the alpha and omega of the relationship between Wolfe and Thompson, consider this passage from William McKeen’s Outlaw Journalist: The Life and Times of Hunter S. Thompson relating to Thompson’s unceremonious departure from the National Observer in 1965:

Hunter always told a different story about how he left the Observer. “My final reason for leaving was because I wrote this strongly positive review of [Tom] Wolfe’s Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby. The feature editor killed it because of a grudge. I took the Observer’s letter and a copy of the review with a brutal letter about it all to Wolfe. I then copied that letter and sent it to the Observer. I had told Wolfe that the review had been killed for bitchy, personal reasons.” (As Hunter explained to a friend, “Somebody on the Observer—in a reject position—had worked with Wolfe on the Washington Post and hated the air that he breathed.”)

Thompson ends that letter to Wolfe, which is available in Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955-1967, as follows: “If it does you any good in the head to know that it caused the final severance of relations between myself and the Observer, then at least it will do somebody some good. As for myself I am joining the Hell’s Angels and figure I should have done it six years ago.”

But that was written in 1965, and the two men were just beginning to know each other. It’s hard not to come to the conclusion that six years of exposure to the white-suited dandy had the effect of souring HST on Wolfe…....

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
‘I’ll ruin your f*cking name!’: Hunter S. Thompson’s scathing voicemail to customer service
Hunter S Thompson: ‘You are scum’
Hunter S. Thompson: ‘Jam this morbid drivel up your ass’

Posted by Martin Schneider | Leave a comment
Famous boozers and their favorite liquid vices

Humphrey Bogart on the set of The African Queen with his buddy, Gordon
Humphrey Bogart on the set of 1951 film, The African Queen with his buddy, Gordon

As I’m sure many of you are right now preparing for tomorrow, a day when you will be attempting to brush away vodka-coated cobwebs from your eyes, I thought it would be fun to share some stories and images of some of the best-known boozers and professional drunks in history. One is amazingly still with us, and the others have sadly long since gone on to the great barroom in the sky. I’m going to start this post off with one of my favorite mythical drinkers, Academy Award-winning actor, Humphrey Bogart.

Here’s Bogie (pictured above) on the set of the 1951 film that won him that Academy Award, The African Queen. While Bogart played the part of a gin-guzzling riverboat captain, Charlie Allnut, in real life he didn’t show a particular affinity for any one kind of liquor, but seemed to love them all, especially Scotch. While most of the cast and crew of the The African Queen fell ill during the filming (which was shot on site in Uganda and the Congo in Africa), Bogart was claimed that he didn’t get sick, and whenever a fly bit him “it dropped dead” thanks to his steady diet of beans, canned asparagus and Scotch whisky. Bogart’s fascinating life and love affair with booze is beautifully detailed in the 2011 book, Tough Without a Gun: The Life and Extraordinary Afterlife of Humphrey Bogart (which I highly recommend you read if you are at all a fan of Bogart).
Hunter S. Thompson on the job
Hunter S. Thompson
Easily known as one of history’s most irresponsible consumers of booze and drugs is much loved and often hated gonzo journalist, Hunter S. Thompson. As well known for his contributions to the literary world as he is for his rabid intake of alcohol, Hunter enjoyed his all of his vices in excess - whether it be booze, amyl nitrate, cigarettes, guns or women. If it was bad for you, Hunter always had a lot of it around. A drunk after my own heart, Thompson was known for ordering several drinks at a time so he didn’t have to wait for a refill.

If you’ve ever read any of Thompson’s work and are also acquainted with documents concerning his actual life , it quickly becomes clear that his “fictional” exploits were much more close to the actuality of his day-to-day life on the edge. What more could you expect from a man who lived for sleeping late, having fun, getting wild, drinking whisky, and driving fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested? That’s right. Nothing.
Keith Richards and his ever present bottle of brown liquor
Keith Richards and his ever present bottle of brown liquor
As I mentioned, many of the subjects in this post are unsurprisingly no longer among the living. There are a few notable, now (mostly) reformed booze-hounds still celebrating birthdays and among them is Keith Richards. Keef turned 72 on December 18th and like Ozzy, many refer to Keith as a “medical miracle” of sorts. After reading Richard’s 2010 memoir Life, I felt like I needed to check into rehab after digesting his tales regarding his daily, decades long diet of Jack Daniels and cocaine.

Like many vice-loving individuals, Keith periodically dried out here and there through the years. But 2006 wasn’t one of those times. While filming Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End, Keith was so loaded on set that it became director Gore Verbinski’s “job” to get Richards’ to “sit up properly.” To anyone who suspected Keith was playing “method” in that film, congratulations! Take two drinks.
Pablo Picasso in his studio and bottles of Green Fairy
Pablo Picasso in his studio with a few bottles of the “Green Fairy”
Painter Pablo Picasso’s weapon of choice was absinthe and he drank it in alarmingly large quantities. For a time absinthe was a drink only available to the wealthy. But once it was available for mass consumption, even poor starving artists such as Picasso could afford to ride the “green fairy.” Although absinthe became prohibited in many countries in the early 20th century, it remained legal in Picasso’s home base of operations, Spain. In 2010, Picasso’s painting “The Absinthe Drinker” (which if you look at it long enough might make you feel drunk) sold for over 50 million dollars. And as we were just speaking of medical miracles, the hard-drinking Picasso lived to the ripe-old age of 92. Ceremoniously, on his deathbed, Picasso’s parting words were, “Drink to me, drink to my health. You know I can’t drink anymore.”
Richard Burton and Elizzabeth Taylor boozing together
Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor knocking a few drinks back
Probably one of the most famous drunks in Hollywood, it was rumored that actor Richard Burton could throw back four bottles of vodka a day. In 1972 while filming Under Milk Wood, Burton “cut back” to one bottle a day telling director Andrew Sinclair that he “wasn’t drinking” on his film, which to Burton translated to a deviation away from his normal “three or more” bottles a day.
Elizabeth Taylor having a drink on the set of the 1963 film, Cleopatra
Elizabeth Taylor having a drink on the set of the 1963 film, Cleopatra
Together with Burton’s on-again/off-again drinking partner, Elizabeth Taylor, the pair brought new meaning to the phrase “life imitating art” in the 1966 film, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Taylor wasn’t as much as a heavy drinker as Burton, and he tried to hide his penchant for drinking vodka for breakfast from her during their two marriages. Burton’s tragic relationship with alcohol is excruciatingly detailed in the 2012 book, The Richard Burton Diaries. If you’d like to get the bed spins without having to drink like Burton, you can just read some of the excerpts here.
Charles Bukowski in his happy place, in bed drinking with a pretty doll
Charles Bukowski in his happy place, in bed drinking with a pretty doll
As there is no shortage of our alcohol-fueled war stories out there that concern all too many of our heros, I’m going to cap off this post with a man who is as synonymous to drinking as anyone else in the history of booze—poet and raconteur, Charles Bukowski. There’s a bar in Prague named for Bukowski who entices its patrons with not only the best cocktails in Zizkov, but also having the “cleanest toilets.” There’s also the Bukowski Tavern in my old hometown of Boston whose website will tell you about “Today’s Fucking Specials” which include “White Trash Cheese Dip” and the “Bukowski Mad Dog,” which is just a hotdog made cooler by attaching Bukowski’s name to it. Neither of which, with all due respect, would have been frequented by Charles Bukowski.
Charles Bukowski drinking in a real bar
But as food is not a topic drunks much care for anyway, let’s talk about Buk’s liver-drowning drinking habits. When times were good financially, like any drinker, his apartment would be stocked with expensive wine and whiskey. When he was broke, he’d turn to cheap beer for comfort. Like most people, Bukowski started experimenting with booze when he was a teenager and it is strongly rumoured that while he was writing his first novel, 1971’s Post Office, that he would down two six-packs of beer and follow that up with a pint of Cutty Sark. Bukowski once wrote that all he really wanted to do was stay in bed and drink saying that “when you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn’t have you by the throat.” And on that note, I bid you dear Dangerous Mind reader, a Happy New Year. Res ipsa loquitur - Let the good times roll.

h/t: Modern Drunkard

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Dennis Hopper, drunk and stoned with six sticks of dynamite—what could possibly go wrong?

Posted by Cherrybomb | Leave a comment
Fear & Loathing at Christmas: Watch Dr. Hunter S. Thompson burn his Christmas tree
04:16 pm


Hunter S. Thompson

When TIME magazine writer Sam Allis visited Dr. Hunter S. Thompson at home in Colorado in January of 1990, during his visit the good doctor decided that he wanted to set his discarded Christmas tree ablaze. He told Deborah Fuller, his loyal secretary of two decades: “Let’s give the journalist a memorable experience to write about. He needs to learn how to burn the creosote out of a chimney. We can’t run the risk of a chimney fire during the year.”

Of course not!

Here’s Allis’ account of what happened:

“I gave up on the interview and started worrying about my life when Hunter Thompson squirted two cans of fire starter on the Christmas tree he was going to burn in his living-room fireplace, a few feet away from an unopened wooden crate of 9-mm bullets. That the tree was far too large to fit into the fireplace mattered not a whit to Hunter, who was sporting a dime-store wig at the time and resembled Tony Perkins in Psycho. Minutes earlier, he had smashed a Polaroid camera on the floor.”

Hunter had decided to videotape the Christmas tree burning, and we later heard on the replay the terrified voices of Deborah Fuller, his longtime secretary-baby sitter, and me off-camera pleading with him, “NO, HUNTER, NO! PLEASE, HUNTER, DON’T DO IT!” The original manuscript of Hell’s Angels was on the table, and there were the bullets. Nothing doing. Thompson was a man possessed by now, full of the Chivas Regal he had been slurping straight from the bottle and the gin he had been mixing with pink lemonade for hours.

Wayne Ewing, the director of Breakfast with Hunter wrote a delightful secondhand account of what had happened that evening on his Hunter Thompson Films blog:

Of course, there’s a fine line between burning the creosote out of a chimney and starting a creosote fire that burns at 2100 Degrees Fahrenheit and sounds like a jet airplane taking off just before it explodes through the sides of your chimney and burns down a log cabin style house like Owl Farm.

In preparation, Deborah gathered all the fire extinguishers in the living room, while Hunter set up a video camera since I wasn’t there to shoot it. (I was back East, finishing a TV special for NBC News with Tom Brokaw called The New Hollywood. Believe me, Hunter was a hell of a lot more interesting to hang out with than Tom Brokaw, but as they say in show business: “Theater is life. Film is art. TV is rent.”)

Visitors to Owl Farm usually came in search of an experience with Hunter that would make a good story whether they were journalists or fans, and Hunter always delivered. But, the story wasn’t necessarily what they expected. In this case, Hunter got more than he bargained for as well; you can see how desperately he pokes at the burning Christmas tree, trying to contain the raging fire. The heavy wooden mantle still has the burn marks to this day.

Before he put the tree in the fireplace, there was a small fire burning already. The mass of the tree almost snuffed out the first fire when he jammed it in, so Hunter threatened to splash lighter fluid on it. In the original video, you can barely hear Deborah and Allen [he means Sam Allis] screaming, “NO, HUNTER DON’T DO IT” above the Cowboy Junkies playing “Misguided Angel” at maximum volume over the array of living room speakers.

Hunter gets a bit of lighter fluid onto the tree, and then throws a match after it, creating the conflagration you see in the film and then in the aftermath below. The flames were coming out of the top of the chimney in a four foot cone of fire, like the exhaust of a jet engine. Hunter, Deborah and Allen retreated to the front porch where Hunter taped the inferno with pride. No one remembered to carry out the manuscript of the latest book in progress which was lying on the living room table.

Thompson’s Owl Creek home has hardly changed in the years since his death and his widow, Anita Thompson is planning to turn the property into a museum.

You’ve read the story, now watch the video…

Via Open Culture/Gothamist/Hunter Thompson Films

Posted by Richard Metzger | Leave a comment
Stunning mosaics of famous paintings and photos (and Hunter S. Thompson!) made entirely of LEGOs
12:24 pm

Pop Culture

Hunter S. Thompson
Andy Bauch

Hunter S. Thompson LEGO mosaic
Hunter S. Thompson LEGO mosaic. Made with 7,393 LEGO bricks

Andy Bauch, an artist and software developer from Queens, New York (now living and working in LA), creates his incredibly detailed mosaics using thousands of LEGO bricks.

According to Bauch, his obsession with LEGO pieces didn’t start when he was a child, but rather later on in life. In 2010 Bauch created his first LEGO mosaic, a reproduction of a Roy Lichtenstein painting which came about in order to impress a girl. I’m not sure if Bauch’s attempt to find love by way of LEGO was successful, but his reproductions of two of Lichtenstein’s paintings,  “Girl with Hair Ribbon,” and “The Kiss V” are spot-on. It takes Bauch many thousands of LEGO bricks (with hundreds of dollars spent on the LEGO pieces themselves), and anywhere from ten to 60 hours to make one of his bricky works of art. When it comes to his creative process, Bauch is tight-lipped, preferring to credit a team of “pygmy hippos” as the driving force behind his painstaking pieces. Bauch’s LEGO portraits are also available for purchase (from $1,800 - $3,600 each) via his Etsy shop.
LEGO mosaic of
LEGO mosaic of “The Kiss V”. Made with 3,491 LEGO bricks (originally painted by Roy Lichtenstein in 1964)
More of Bauch’s LEGO mosaics, as well as a time-lapse video of Bauch putting together “Girl with Hair Ribbon,” can be seen after the jump.

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Smoke weed from the heads of Charles Bukowski, Tom Waits, Hunter S. Thompson & other oddballs

Raul Duke and Dr. Gonzo pipes
Raoul Duke and Dr. Gonzo pipes

I have always loved marijuana. It has been a source of joy and comfort to me for many years. And I still think of it as a basic staple of life, along with beer and ice and grapefruits - and millions of Americans agree with me.
—Hunter S Thompson

Millions of Americans: “Yes, we do agree. Except for grapefruit. Fuck grapefruit.”

As the “legalize the good shit” wave continues to sweep across the U.S., so do the seemingly endless varieties of marijuana smoking apparatus. Ever wanted a bong that you could strap to your face that looks like Satan? No problem. Now if you happen to be one of those stoners who is always on the lookout for something unique to pack at your next smoke session, today is your lucky day Spicoli.
Tom Waits pipe
Tom Waits pipe

It just so happens that a Macedonia-based business called WOOFterrapipe makes ceramic pipes in the images of poets, deviants, and folk heroes like Tom Waits, Walter White and Edgar Allan Poe among others. The only pipe in the collection that puts me off a bit is the one of Charles Bukowski. While I understand that pretty much everybody (including me) and potheads love Buk, Bukowski himself LOATHED potheads. So as a huge fan of the man who wrote words like a wild horse runs, it seems a bit rude to want to fire up a bud of Blue Dream in the back of Bukowski’s little ceramic head.

However, given the choice (and it’s a tough one), I’d rather burn Raoul Duke and Dr. Gonzo with a little grass, a few beers (and maybe seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, two dozen amyls, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers).
Charles Bukowski pipe
Charles Bukowski pipe

More after the jump…

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Adorable Hunter S. Thompson / Hello Kitty sculpture
11:34 am


Hunter S. Thompson
Hello Kitty


Let us toast to animal pleasures.—Hunter S. Thompson

I know, I know it’s a “cute animal” post on Dangerous Minds, but it’s Hello Kitty as Hunter S. Thompson! I just want to “squee” at those teeny-tiny shades “Gonzo Kitty” is wearing.

The sculpture is made by Portland-based artist Eloah whose shop on Etsy is called All Seeing Cat. “Gonzo Kitty” is selling for around $150.00.

But my real question is: does Gonzo Kitty start its day with Chivas Regal and cocaine?!

via Cherrybombed

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Hunter S. Thompson’s typical daily intake of drink ‘n’ drugs
Hunter S. Thompson’s Cure For a Hangover

Posted by Tara McGinley | Leave a comment
Hunter S. Thompson’s typical daily intake of drink ‘n’ drugs
10:58 am


Hunter S. Thompson

Hunter S. Thompson once said:

I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.

If E. Jean Carroll’s biography Hunter: The Strange and Savage Life of Hunter S. Thompson is to be believed, then drink and drugs certainly did work for HST. Carroll begins her memoir with a list of Hunter’s daily intake of drink and drugs:

I have heard the biographers of Harry S. Truman, Catherine the Great, etc., etc., say they would give anything if their subjects were alive so they could ask them some questions. I, on the other hand, would give anything if my subject were dead.

He should be. Oh, yes. Look at his daily routine:

3:00 p.m. rise

3:05 Chivas Regal with the morning papers, Dunhills

3:45 cocaine

3:50 another glass of Chivas, Dunhill

4:05 first cup of coffee, Dunhill

4:15 cocaine

4:16 orange juice, Dunhill

4:30 cocaine

4:54 cocaine

5:05 cocaine

5:11 coffee, Dunhills

5:30 more ice in the Chivas

5:45 cocaine, etc., etc.

6:00 grass to take the edge off the day

7:05 Woody Creek Tavern for lunch-Heineken, two margaritas, coleslaw, a taco salad, a double order of fried onion rings, carrot cake, ice cream, a bean fritter, Dunhills, another Heineken, cocaine, and for the ride home, a snow cone (a glass of shredded ice over which is poured three or four jig­gers of Chivas.)

9:00 starts snorting cocaine seriously

10:00 drops acid

11:00 Chartreuse, cocaine, grass

11:30 cocaine, etc, etc.

12:00 midnight, Hunter S. Thompson is ready to write

12:05-6:00 a.m. Chartreuse, cocaine, grass, Chivas, coffee, Heineken, clove cigarettes, grapefruit, Dunhills, orange juice, gin, continuous pornographic movies.

6:00 the hot tub-champagne, Dove Bars, fettuccine Alfredo

8:00 Halcyon

8:20 sleep

Impressive. But as Hunter also said:

Anything worth doing, is worth doing right.

And who can argue with that?

Below the 1978 Omnibus documentary on Hunter S. Thompson.

H/T Open Culture

Posted by Paul Gallagher | Leave a comment
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