Farewell to"an avid reader,a relentless drinkerand a fine hand with a .44 Magnum."


Hunter S Thompson is dead. The man who provided my friend Mark and I with the template for many a late-night shenanigan, the man who gifted me with the fake name I use when really drunk, the man who taught me that fast and loose could work just as well in journalism as it does in fiction, the man whom I always thought of as slightly super-human and, therefore, immortal is dead. By his own hand.

Maybe now he's finally able to get a good night's sleep. I hope so. We'll miss you Duke.