17 Hours

To all Hunter S. Thompson wannabes of the internet:

You are not — nor will you ever be — the second coming of Hunter S. Thompson. The first coming was more of a freak accident than anything else, and I doubt it will ever happen again. Please, quit trying to write like the man. It’s a sad thing to have to watch unfold right in front of my eyes.

I understand that he probably was an inspiration to you. Y’know what? He inspired the hell outta me, too. But I don’t go around writing half-fictionalized accounts of my life where I irritate people and be a raging prick at separate accounts. And I swear, if I have to read one more short story that starts out with “We were somewhere around [blank] when the [blank] began to [blank]. . .” I’ll lose it.