In July, I somehow talked a bunch of otherwise smart humans into flying me to Las Vegas for seven days (never spend seven days in Las Vegas) in order to write something about Hunter Thompson and, uh, the American Dream. FEAR AND SELF-LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS, the comically long result, runs to around 14,200 words; parts one (“EVERY DAY I’M SHUFFLIN’”) and two (“TOPLESS AT THE SAHARA”) are up now, with the latter two sections—which are when the non-metaphorical guns come out—due tomorrow.
The talented Nikola Tamindzic took the photos, including the one above, which I believe he shot from the plane while coming down on psilocybin mushrooms. Nikola is the best Ralph Steadman surrogate a writer could hope for.
Thanks to him, Ramon, and Fleur, whoever they are.
Adoring everything about this.