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The trunk of the car looked like a mobile police narcotics lab. We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-power...more

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Journalism, to me, is just another drug – a free ride to scenes I'd probably miss if I stayed straight. But I'm neither a chemist nor an editor; all I...more

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KNOW YOUR DOPE FIEND. YOUR LIFE MAY DEPEND ON IT! You will not be able to see his eyes because of the Tea-Shades, but his knuckles will be white from ...more

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Ignore that nightmare in the bathroom. Just another ugly refugee from the Love Generation, some doom-struck gimp who couldn't handle the pressure. My ...more

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What sells, today, is whatever Fucks You Up - whatever short-circuits your brain and grounds it out for the longest possible time.

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What do you want? Where's the goddamn ice I ordered? Where's the booze? There's a war on, man! People are being killed!

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

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We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole...more

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Kill the body and the head will die.

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About a week earlier I had finished a book (on the Hell's Angels, scheduled this fall by Random House) and I felt that I needed about a week of total ...more