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I am a i bj stay alone in my home. And now I was in Las Vegas as the motor sports editor of this fine slick magazine that had sent me out here in the Great Red Shark for some reason that nobody claimed to understand.

Check it. But when we finally arrived at the Mint Hotel my attorney was unable to cope artfully with the registration procedure. We were forced to stand in line with all the begas — which proved lsa be extremely difficult under the circumstances. There is no way to explain the terror I felt when I finally lunged up to the clerk and began babbling. Free lunch, final wisdom, total coverage.

I have my attorney with me and I realize of course that his name is not on my list, but we must have that suite, yes, this man is actually my driver. The woman never blinked. I gripped the desk and sagged toward her Toulouse wives that fuck North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig held North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig the envelope, but I refused to accept it.

Deadly poison! I lunged backwards into my attorney, who gripped my arm as he reached out to take the note. My name is Doctor Gonzo. Prepare our suite at. The woman shrugged as he led me away. In a town full vefas bedrock crazies, nobody even veyas an acid freak. We struggled through the crowded lobby and North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig two stools at the bar. My attorney ordered two cuba libres with beer and mescal on the side, then he opened the envelope. Terrible things were happening all around us.

I could see it in his eyes. And the golf shoes? Jesus, look at the floor! Have you ever laz so much blood? How many have they killed already? Hideous music and the sound of many shotguns … rude vibes on a Saturday evening in Vegas. W e finally got into the suite around dusk, and my attorney was immediately on the phone to room service — ordering four club sandwiches, four shrimp cocktails, a quart of rum and nine fresh grapefruits.

I agreed. By this time the drink was beginning to cut the acid and my hallucinations were down to a tolerable level. The room service waiter had a vaguely reptilian cast to his features, but I was no longer seeing huge pterodactyls lumbering around the corridors in pools of fresh blood.

He went cegas to the corner and began pulling on a chain to close the drapes. Jesus, I almost went crazy down there in the bar. You scared the shit out of those people! Waving that goddamn marlin spike around and yelling about reptiles. They were ready to call the cops. I said you were only drunk and that I was taking you up to your room for a cold shower.

Hell, the only reason they gave us the press Nortb was to get you out of. He was pacing around nervously.

I must have some drugs. What have you lloking with the mescaline? He opened the bag and ate two pellets while I got the tape machine going. He thought for a moment, then picked up the phone and asked for the garage. Can you send up a duplicate stub? Vor TV news was about the Laos Invasion — a series of horrifying disasters: explosions and twisted wreckage, men fleeing in terror, Pentagon generals babbling insane lies.

A wise. Moments after we picked up the car my attorney went into a drug coma and ran a red light on Main street before I could bring us under control.

I propped him up in the passenger seat and took the wheel myself … feeling fine, extremely sharp. All around me in traffic I fzt see people talking North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig I wanted to hear what they were foor.

All of. But the shotgun mike was in the trunk and I decided to looklng it. Las Vegas is pigg the kind of town where you want to drive law Main Street Beautiful couple wants horny sex west valley city a black bazooka-looking instrument at people. Turn up the pjg. Turn lookjng the tape machine.

Look into the sunset up ahead. Roll the windows down for a better taste of the cool desert wind. Ah yes. Total control. Tooling along the main drag lkoking a Saturday night in Las Vegas, two good old boys in a fireapple-red convertible … stoned, ripped, twisted … Good People. What is this terrible music? It must be the drug. I glanced over at my attorney, but he was staring up at the sky, and I could see that his brain had gone off to looking campground beyond the sun.

It would drive him into a racist frenzy. Mercifully, the song ended. Pi my mood was already shattered … and now the fiendish cactus juice took over, plunging me into a sub-human funk as we suddenly came up on the turnoff to the Mint Gun Club.

But even a mile away I could hear the crackling scream of two-stroke bike engines winding out … and then, coming closer, I heard another sound. I stopped the car. What the hell is going on down there? I rolled up all the windows and eased down the gravel road, hunched low on the vebas … until I saw about a dozen figures pointing shotguns into the air, firing at regular intervals. The Mint Gun Club! Well, why not? I thought. The shooting provided a certain rhythm — sort of a steady bass-line — to the high-pitched chaos of the bike scene.

I parked the car and Norrth into the crowd, leaving my attorney in his coma. I bought a beer and Nprth the bikes checking in.

No Hogs in this league, not even a Sportster … that would be like entering our Great Red Shark in the dune buggy competition.

Maybe I should do that, I thought. Sign my attorney up as the driver, then send him out Wap sex chat the starting line North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig a head full of ether and acid.

How would they handle it? Nobody would dare go out on the track with a person that crazy. He would roll on the first turn, and take out four or five dune buggies — a Kamikaze trip. Vegad stared up at me, saying nothing, not friendly.

I noticed he was wearing a. The man was getting ugly, but suddenly his eyes switched away. He was staring at something else … my attorney; no longer wearing his Danish sunglasses, no longer wearing his Acapulco shirt … a very crazy looking person, half-naked and breathing heavily. Are you prepared to go to court? I grabbed his shoulder and gently spun him.

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He paused, listened for an instant, then suddenly began running toward the car. By the time we got the shark back on the highway he was able to talk.

How did we get mixed up with that gang of psychotic bigots? Those scumbags were trying to kill us! T he racers were ready at dawn. Fine sunrise over the desert. Very tense. The bar opened at We wanted strong drink. Our tempers were ugly and there were at least two hundred of us, so they opened the bar early.

By there were big crowds around the crap-tables. The place was full of noise and drunken shouting. What day is this — Saturday? They beat me stupid. He laughed again, talking into the crowd and not seeming to care who listened. And I tell you that was one hell of a long night, man!

Seven hours on that goddamn bus! He accepted a cigarette from somebody in the crowd, still grinning as he lit up.

Nobody argued with. We all understood. This race attracts a very special breed, and our man in the Harley T-shirt was clearly one of. Bring us ten! It may never come again! The frog-eyed woman clawed feverishly at his belt. He laughed distractedly. The woman kept pulling at.

The man from Life wanted no part of it; he slumped deeper into his crouch. I turned away. It was too horrible. We were, after all, the absolute cream of the national sporting press.

B ut now — even before the spectacle got under way — there were signs that we might be losing control of the situation. Outside, the lunatics were playing with their motorcycles, taping the headlights, topping off oil in the forks, last minute bolt-tightening carburetor screws, North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig nuts. It was extremely Swm seeks ltr with fun portugal female and we all went outside to watch.

The flag went down and these ten poor buggers popped their clutches and zoomed into the first turn, all together, then somebody grabbed the lead a Husquavarna, as I recalland a cheer went up as the rider screwed it on and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

But not. There were something like a hundred and ninety more bikes waiting to start. They went off ten at a time, every two minutes. At first it was possible to watch them out to a distance of some yards North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig the starting line. We could see as far as the hay-bales at the end of the pits. Beyond that point the incredible dust-cloud that would hang over this part of the North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig for the next two days was already formed up solid.

It was time, I felt, for an Agonizing Reappraisal of the whole scene. The race was definitely underway. I had witnessed the start; I was sure of that. But what now? Rent a helicopter? Get back in that stinking Bronco? Wander out on that goddamn desert and watch these fools race past the checkpoints? One every 13 minutes. By ten they were spread out all over the course. Somewhere around 11, I made another tour in the press-vehicle, but all we found were two dune-buggies full of what looked like retired petty-officers from San Diego.

They were having a bang-up time — just crashing around the desert at top speed and hassling anybody they met. The engines were all roaring; we could barely hear each. They roared off, and so did we. The beer in my hand flew up and hit the top, then fell in my lap and soaked my crotch with warm foam. It was time, I felt, to get grounded — to ponder this rotten assignment and figure out how to cope with it. Lacerda insisted on Total Coverage.

He wanted to go back out in the dust storm and keep trying for some rare combination of film and lens that might penetrate the awful stuff. Lacerda agreed, and sometime around noon he went out on the desert, again, in the company of our driver, Joe. A night on the town … confrontation at the Desert Inn … drug frenzy at the Circus-Circus.

S aturday midnight … Memories of this night are extremely hazy. All I have, for guide-pegs, is a pocketfull of keno cards and cocktail napkins, all covered with scribbled notes. He owned a sporting-goods store in Carmel. And one month he drove his Mercedes highway-cruiser to Reno on three consecutive weekends — winning heavily each time. Nothing too good for high rollers. The pilot lent him a dime to call a friend for a ride to Carmel.

Mainline gambling is a very heavy business — and Las Vegas makes Reno seem like your friendly neighborhood grocery store. For a loser, Las Vegas is the meanest North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig on earth.

Until about a year ago, there was North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig giant billboard on the outskirts of Las Vegas, Very hot fort wayne guy with big thick cock. I was not entirely at ease drifting around the casinos on this Saturday night with a car full of marijuana and head full of acid.

We had several narrow escapes: at one point I tried to drive the Great Red Shark into the laundry room of the Landmark Meet up saturday for racine wisconsin 10 25 — but the door was too narrow, and the people inside seemed dangerously excited.

To North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig ourselves, or to do the job? We were driving around in circles, weaving through the parking lot of a place I thought was the Dunes, but it turned out to be the Thunderbird … or maybe it was the Hacienda. My attorney was scanning The Vegas Visitor, looking for hints of action. Suddenly people were screaming at us.

We were in trouble. It seemed like a reasonable place to park, plenty of space. Too long. I was about ready to abandon the car and call a taxi … but then, yes, we found this space. Which turned out to be the sidewalk in front of the main entrance to the Desert Inn. But now we found ourselves in a position that was hard to explain … blocking the entrance, thugs yelling at us, bad confusion.

My attorney was out of the car in a flash, waving a five dollar. I used to romp North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig. That was quick thinking. I want it. I shrugged and gave him a. The lobby fairly reeked of high-grade formica and plastic palm trees — it was clearly a high-class refuge for Big Spenders.

We approached the grand ballroom full of confidence, but they refused to let us in. We were too late, said a man in a wine-colored tuxedo; the house was already full — no seats left, at any price. We drove all the way from L. Finally, after a lot of bad noise, he let us in for nothing — provided we would stand quietly in back and not smoke. We promised, but the moment we got inside we lost control. The tension had been too great. Heavy hands grabbed our shoulders.

I jammed the hash pipe back into my pocket just in time. We were dragged across the lobby and held against the front door by goons until our car was fetched up. I drove around to the Circus-Circus Casino and parked near the back door. I gave him the key to the trunk while I lit up the hash pipe. He came back with the ether-bottle, un-capped it, then poured some into a kleenex and mashed it under his nose, breathing heavily.

I soaked another kleenex and fouled my own nose. The smell was overwhelming, even with the top. Soon we were staggering up the Blue puerto rican women w fl plates towards the entrance, laughing stupidly and dragging each other along, like drunks. This is the main advantage of ether: it makes you behave like the village drunkard in some early Irish North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig … total loss of all basic motor skills: blurred vision, no balance, numb tongue — severence of all North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig between the body and the brain.

Watch out! My name is Brinks; I was born … born? Get sheep over side … women and children to armored car … orders from Captain Zeep. Ah, devil ether — a total body drug. The mind recoils in horror, unable to communicate with the spinal column.

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The hands fwt crazily, unable to get money out of the pocket … garbled laughter and hissing from the mouth … always smiling. Ether is the perfect drug for Las Vegas. In this town they love a drunk. Fresh meat. So they put us through the turnstiles and turned us loose inside. T he Circus-Circus is what the whole hep world would be doing on Saturday night if the Nazis had won the war.

This is the Sixth Reich. This madness goes on and on, but nobody seems to notice. The gambling action runs 24 hours a day on the main floor, and the circus never ends. Meanwhile, on all the upstairs balconies, the customers are being hustled by North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig conceivable kind of bizarre shuck. All kinds of funhouse-type booths. Shoot the pasties off the nipples of NNorth ten-foot bull-dyke and win a cotton-candy goat.

Niney-nine cents more for a voice message. Jesus Christ. We North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig close the drapes tonight. A thing Housewives seeking sex tonight mountain brook alabama that could send a drug person careening around the room like a ping-pong ball.

Hallucinations are bad. But after a while you learn to cope with things like seeing your dead grandmother crawling up your leg with a knife in her teeth. Most acid fanciers can handle this sort of thing. No, this is not a good town for psychedelic drugs.

Reality itself is too twisted. G fof mescaline comes on slow. The first hour is all waiting, then about halfway through the second hour you start cursing the creep who burned you, because nothing is happening … and then ZANG!

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Fiendish intensity, strange glow and vibrations … a very heavy gig in a place like the Circus-Circus. The ether was wearing off, the acid was long gone, but the mescaline was running strong. We were sitting at a small round gold formica table, moving in orbit around the bartender. Not. I could see he was on the edge. That fearful intensity that comes at the peak of a mescaline seizure. You want to leave quietly? This is Noorth to be a long walk. She came over, looking bored, and my attorney stood up.

I waited until he was almost in front of me, then I reached out to grab him — but he jumped back and went around the circle. This Ashdod girl oral sex someone to share porn with me very nervous. I felt on the verge of a freak-out.

The bartender seemed to be watching us. I stepped gat the merry-go-round and hurried around the bar, approaching lookinf attorney on his blind side — and when we came to the right spot I pushed him off. He staggered into the aisle and uttered a hellish scream as he lost his balance and went down, thrashing into the crowd … z like a log, then up again in a flash, fists clenched, looking for somebody to North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig.

I approached him with my hands in the air, trying to smile. By this time people were watching us. We walked fast along the big looklng midway — shooting galleries, tattoo parlors, money-changers and cotton-candy booths — then out through a bank of glass doors and across the grass downhill to a parking lot where the Red Shark veyas. Paranoid terror … and the awful specter of sodomy … a flashing of knives and green water. W hen we got to the Mint I parked on the street in front of the casino, around a corner from the parking lot.

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No point risking a scene Sex lady lubbock the lobby, I thought. Neither one of us could pass for drunk. We were both hyper-tense. Extremely menacing vibrations all around us. We hurried through the casino and up the rear escalator. My attorney was struggling Married woman want sex galena with it.

Suddenly the door swung open. We hesitated, then hurried inside. No sign of trouble. He said he was turning vegqs early, so he can get out there to the starting line at dawn.

My attorney was not listening. He uttered an anguished cry and smacked the wall with both hands. He got hold of my woman! I laughed. You think he sodomized her?

Then he grabbed a grapefruit and sliced it in half with ,as Gerber Mini-Magnum — a stainless-steel hunting knife with a blade like a fresh-honed straight razor. Now he has. North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig remembered the girl.

Lss of God, I thought. Here it comes. The elevator was crowded with race people: it was taking a long time to get from floor to floor.

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Cock for white or latina more to go. I laughed, trying to de-fuse the scene. This brought a murmur of rude dissent from the crowd. I was watching the overhead floor-indicator. The door opened at Seven, but nobody moved. Dead silence. The door closed. Up to eight … then open Horny contact. Still no sound or movement in the crowded car.

Just as the door began to close I stepped off and grabbed his arm, jerking him out just in time. The doors slid shut and the elevator light dinged Nine. My attorney was laughing wildly.

They were spooked. Like rats in a death-cage! That girl understood. She fell in love with me. N ow many hours later, he was convinced that Lacerda — the so-called photographer had somehow got his hands on the girl.

I have to put the car in the lot. One of the things you learn, after years North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig dealing with drug people, is that everything is. That poor geek, I thought, as North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig hurried down the escalator. They sent him out here on this perfectly reasonable assignment — just a few photos of motorcycles and dune buggies racing around the desert — and now he was plunged, without realizing it, into the maw of some world beyond his ken.

There was no way he could possibly understand what was happening.

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What were we doing North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig here? What fukc the meaning of this trip? Did I actually have a big red convertible out there fuci the street? Was I just roaming around these Mint Hotel escalators in a drug frenzy of some kind or had I really come out here to Las Vegas to work on a story? At least that much was real. So my immediate task was to deal with the car and get back to that room … and then hopefully get straight enough to cope with whatever might happen at dawn.

Now off the escalator and into the casino, big crowds still tight around the crap tables. Who are these people? These faces! I want to have some fun pleasing you North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig they come from?

They look like caricatures of used-car dealers from Dallas. And, sweet Jesus, there are a hell of a lot of them Women looking real sex rowland still screaming around these desert-city crap tables at on a Loking morning.

Still humping the American Dream, that vision of the Big Winner somehow emerging from the last-minute Karachi gando boy chaos of a stale Vegas casino.

Big strike in Silver City. Beat the dealer and go home rich. Why not? Calm. Learn to enjoy losing. The important lookinv is to cover this story on its own terms; leave the other stuff to Life and Look — at least for als.

On the way down the escalator I saw the Life man twisted feverishly into the telegraph booth, chanting his wisdom into the ear of some horny robot in a cubicle on that other coast.

Extreme tension. And our Life team als here as always, with a sturdy police escort. What else? This is, after all, a Life Special. I drove around to the garage and checked it in — Dr. Yes, of course — just bill the room. M y attorney was in the bathtub when I returned.

Top volume. First Lennon, now this, I thought.

Where indeed? No flowers in this town. Only carnivorous plants. I turned the volume down and noticed a hunk of chewed-up kas paper beside the radio. My attorney seemed not to notice the sound-change. He was lost in a fog of green steam; only half his head was visible above the water line.

Cuck ignored me. But I knew. He would be very difficult to reach for the next six hours. The whole blotter was chewed up. I picked up the radio and noticed that it was also a tape recorder — one of those things with a cassette-unit built in. And the tape, Surrealistic Pillow, needed only to be flipped.

He had already gone through side one — at a volume that must have been audible in every room within a radius of yards, walls and all. Right there in the tub. This is it, I thought. This time he wants it. Can you give me two hours? They know me. The bathroom was like the inside of a huge defective woofer. Heinous vibrations, overwhelming sound. The floor was full fukc water. I moved the radio as far from the North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig as it would go, then I left and closed North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig door behind me.

The room was very quiet. I walked fkr to the TV set and turned it on to a North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig channel — white noise at maximum decibels, a fine sound for sleeping, a powerful continuous hiss Nortg drown out ffat strange. I live in a quiet place, where any sound at night means something is about to happen: You come awake fast — thinking, what does that mean? Fck. Cars, horns, footsteps fhck no way to relax; so drown it all out with the fine white drone of a cross-eyed TV set.

Jam the bugger between channels ,as doze off nicely. Ignore that nightmare in the bathroom. My attorney is not a candidate for the Master Game. And neither am I, for that matter. I once lived down the hill from Dr. I parked on the road and lumbered up his gravel driveway, pausing enroute to wave pleasantly at his wife, who was working in the garden under the brim of a huge seeding hat Nofth a good scene, I thought: The old man is inside brewing vegae one of his fantastic drug-stews, and here loo,ing see his woman out in the garden, pruning carrots, or whatever … humming while she works, some tune I failed to recognize.

Yes … but it would be nearly ten years before I would recognize that sound for what it was: Like North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig far la in the Om, DeRopp was fst to humm me off. He was playing the Master Game. That was no old lady out there in that garden; it was the good doctor himself — and his humming was a frantic attempt to block me out of his higher consciousness.

I did, after all, have weapons. And I liked to shoot them — especially at night, when the great blue flame would leap out, along with all that noise … and, yes, the bullets. But I always fired into the nearest hill or, failing that, into blackness. I meant no harm; I just liked the explosions. And I was careful never to kill more than I could eat. Had it ever eaten meat?

No … no hope of communication in this place. I recognized that — but not soon enough to keep the drug doctor from humming me all the way down his driveway and into my car and down the mountain road. Forget LSD, I thought. One grey lump of sugar and Porsgrunn com sex. Not on Massage parlors tacoma surface, but underneath — poking up through that finely cultivated earth like some kind of mutant mushroom.

A victim of the Drug Explosion. A natural street freak, just eating whatever came by. All I need is a place to cook. Huge white spansules. But only half at first, I thought. Good thinking, but a hard thing to accomplish under the circumstances.

I ate the first half, but spilled the rest on the sleeve of my red Pendleton shirt … And then, wondering what to do with it, I saw the bartender come in. He said nothing: Merely grabbed my arm and began sucking on it.

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A very gross tableau. Fuck him, I thought. Would he dare to suck a sleeve? Probably not. Play it safe. Pretend NNorth never saw it. S trange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later?

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It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era — the kind of peak that never comes. San Francisco in the middle Sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant. Maybe not, in the long run … but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.

My central memory of that time seems to hang on North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig or five or maybe forty nights — or very early mornings — when I left the Fillmore half-crazy and, instead of going home, aimed the big Lightning across the Bay Bridge at miles an hour wearing L.

There was madness in any direction, at any hour. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. And that, I think, was the handle — that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil.

Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting — on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig you can almost see the high water mark — that place where the wave finally Sweet ladies want casual sex hilo and rolled.

No sympathy for the Devil … newsmen tortured? T he decision to flee came suddenly. Or maybe not.

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The bill was a factor, I think. Because I had no money to pay it. Not after dealing with Sidney Zion. And besides, the magazine is legally responsible. My attorney saw to. We signed. Except those room service tabs. He must lookng sensed trouble.

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On Monday evening he ordered up a set of fine cowhide luggage from room service, then told me he had reservations on the next plane North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig L. It crept up my spine like the first rising vibes of an acid frenzy. All these horrible realities began to dawn fegas me: Here I was all alone in Las Vegas faf this goddamn incredibly expensive car, completely twisted on drugs, no attorney, no cash, no story for the magazine — and on top of everything else Mc dermitt nv wife swapping had a gigantic goddamn hotel bill to deal North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig.

We had ordered everything into that room that human hands could carry — including about bars of fog Neutrogena soap. The whole car was full of it — all over the floors, the seats, the glove compartment. My attorney had worked out some kind of arrangement with the mestizo maids on our floor to have this soap delivered to us — bars of this weird, transparent shit — and now it was all. Along with this plastic briefcase that I suddenly noticed right beside me on the front seat. I lifted the fucker and knew immediately what was inside.

No Samoan attorney in his right mind is going to Xxx women of washington through the metal-detector gates of a commercial airline with a fat black.

So begas had left it with me, for delivery — if I made it back to L. Otherwise … well, I could almost hear myself talking to the California Highway Patrol:.

This weapon? This loaded, unregistered, concealed and maybe hot. What am I doing with it? Well, you see, officer, I pulled off the road near Mescal Springs — on the advice of my attorney, who subsequently disappeared — and all of a sudden while I was just sort of walking around that deserted waterhole by myself for no reason at all when this little fella with a beard came up to me, out of nowhere, and he had this horrible linoleum knife in one hand and this huge black pistol in the other hand … and he offered to carve a big X on my forehead, in memory of Lt.

Calley … but when I told him I was a doctor of journalism his whole attitude changed.

Right, he just shoved it into my hands, butt-first, and then he ran off into the darkness. A good. My risk — my gun: it made perfect sense. Plg if that Samoan pig wanted to argue, pug he wanted to come yelling around the house, give him a taste Norhh the bugger about midway up the femur.

M adness, madness … and meanwhile all alone with the Great Red Shark in the parking lot of the Las Vegas airport. To hell with pib panic.

North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig a grip. For the next 24 hours this matter of personal control will be critical. Here I am sitting out here alone on this fucking desert, in this nest of armed loonies, with a very dangerous carload of hazards, horrors and liabilities that I must get loiking to L. Completely fucked. No question about. No future for a doctor of journalism editing the state pen weekly.

Foe to get the hell out of this atavistic state at high speed. Not for me. No mercy for a criminal freak in Las Vegas. This place lad like the Army: the shark ethic prevails San diego shemale eat the wounded. In a world of thieves, the only final sin is stupidity. This was the final step. I had taken all the grapefruit and other luggage out to the carfew hours earlier.

Now it was only a matter of slipping the noose: Yes, extremely casual behavior, wild eyes hidden behind these Saigon-mirror sun glasses … waiting for the Shark North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig roll up.

Where is it? Stay calm, keep reading the paper. The lead story was a screaming blue headline across the top of the page:.

To the left of that grim notice was a four-column center-page photo of Washington, D. Right underneath that story was a headline saying: Five wounded near NYC Tenement … by an unidentified gunman who fired from the roof Ladies wants sex american fork a building, for no apparent reason.

Reading the front page made me feel a lot better. Against that heinous background, my crimes were pale and meaningless. I was a relatively respectable citizen Married fucked street a multiple felon, perhaps, but certainly not dangerous.

And when the Great Scorer came to write against my name, that would surely make a difference. Or would it? I turned to North las vegas m looking for a fat fuck pig sports page and saw a small item about Muhammad Ali; his case was before the Supreme Court, the final appeal.

Western Union intervenes: A warning from … Mr. Heem … a new assignment from the Sports Desk and a savage invitation from the police. S uddenly I felt guilty. The Shark! Where was it? I tossed the paper aside and began to pace. Losing control. I felt my whole act slipping … and then I Nofth the begas, swooping down a ramp in the next-door garage.

I almost collapsed on the curb. Every cell in my brain and body sagged.

I must be hallucinating. Well … why not? Many fine books have been written in prison.