They seemed a little stunned at the idea that some straight-looking writer for a New York literary magazine would actually track them down to some obscure transmission shop in the industrial slums of south San Francisco. They were a bit off balance at first, but after 50 or 60 beers, we found a common ground, as it were…..Crazies always recognize each other.
Hunter S. Thompson on the Hells Angles, “The Playboy Interview” November 1974 (via thisgoldmineisgutted)
That’s when the strange music starts, when you stretch your luck so far that fear becomes exhilaration and vibrates along your arms.
Hunter S. Thompson - Hell’s Angels (via d-russ47)
As dawn approached there were less than twenty moving bodies in the camp. One of the Jokers I’d been talking to had become fascinated with the word ‘shunt’. It caught his ear when I referred to them having been ‘shunted off’ to a bad campsite. He repeated the word with a grin, then went off to play with it for a while. Several hours later I heard him urge another Joker: ‘Say, man, let’s go into town and shunt somebody.’ By four in the morning the word had grown like a tumor in his consciousness and he wandered around the fire, buttonholing people and asking: ‘What would you do if I said I was gonna shunt you?’ Or: ‘Say, man, can you lend me some shunt until morning? I’m hurtin’.’ Then he would laugh distractedly and stagger off towards the remains of the beer mountain, which by that time was built almost entirely of empties.
Hunter S. Thompson (Hell’s Angels).
I found this passage really funny when I stumbled upon it.
It might not have the same effect taken out of context/if you haven’t been reading the book haha.
All my life, my heart has sought a thing I cannot name.
Remembered line from a long-
― Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels
The cops stood out on the highway and looked across the creek at a scene that must have tortured the very roots of their understanding. Here were all these people running wild, bellowing and dancing half naked to rock-‘n’-roll sounds piped out through the trees from massive amplifiers, reeling and stumbling in a maze of psychedelic lights… WILD, by God, and with no law to stop them.
Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels (via artatac)
It was obvious that he was a man who marched through life to the rhythms of some drum I would never hear.
Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels (via kcnightfire)
The highways are crowded with people who drive as if their sole purpose in getting behind the wheel is to avenge every wrong done to them by man, beast or fate. The only thing that keeps them in line is their own fear of death, jail and lawsuits…which are much less likely if they can find a motorcycle to challenge, instead of another two-thousand-pound car or a concrete abutment. A motorcyclist has to drive as if everybody else on the road is out to kill him. A few of them are, and many of those who aren’t are just as dangerous—because the only thing that can alter their careless, ingrained driving habits is a threat of punishment, either legal or physical, and there is nothing about a motorcycle to theaten any man in a car. A bike is totally vulnerable; its only defense is manueverability, and every accident situation is potentially fatal…
Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels: A Strange and Terrible Saga (via amandaraewashere)
Only a punk beats his wife.
Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs