Bokelskere.no

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.

EDITOR'S NOTE:
At this point in the chronology, Dr. Duke appears to have broken down completely; the original manuscript is so splintered that we were forced to seek out the original tape recording and transcribe it verbatim. We made no attempt to edit this section, and Dr. Duke refused to even read it.

The general back-alley ambience of the suit was so rotten, so incredibly foul, that I figured I could probably get away with claiming it was some kind of "Life-slice exhibit" that we've brought down from Haight Street, to show cops from other parts of the country how deep into filth and degeneracy the drug people would sink, if left to their own devices.

What were we doing out here? What was the meaning of this trip? Did I actually have a big red convertible out there in 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?

We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold.

He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.

As your attorney, I advise you to drive at top speed, it'll be a god damn miracle if we can get there before you turn into a wild animal.

As your attorney, I advise you to take a hit out of the little brown bottle in my shaving kit.

You won't need much, just a tiny taste.

As your attorney, I advise you to rent a very fast car with no top.

And you'll need the cocaine.