I have tonight begun reading a stupid, shitty book by Kerouac called , and I would give a ball to wake up tomorrow on some empty ridge with a herd of beatniks grazing in the clearing about 200 yards below the house. And then to squat with the big boomer and feel it on my shoulder with the smell of grease and powder and, later, a little blood.
( Hunter S. Thompson )
[ The Proud Highway: Saga of a ]
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