My pitch to live 24 hours like Hunter S. Thompson was killed on account of not being able to procure enough cocaine by 3:45 p.m., the time that Thompson would start to binge on the stuff. Also: lawyers, waivers, etc.
Instead, Carlson grabbed some healthier Trader Joe’s sustenance and put together a string of photos documenting Thompson’s late 1950s and early 1960s Manhattan abodes. The fun of an article like this is the comments, drawing out the latest ramblings of HST fans. A couple of our favorites:
LesFleursDuMal: I’ve seen that [E.G. Carroll biography] rundown on HST’s [daily] routine before and also read that it was made up by a journalist who had an ax to grind with Thompson. But even if it’s HALF true, yeah, he did live like a boss.