Unsurprisingly, we here at Socialism are suckers for anything written about the late, very great Hunter S. Thompson. The latest edition of Rolling Stone has extracts from a new oral history/biography that's been put together by his collegues over at Rolling Stone - obviously it's brilliant... and I quote from his friend Bob Bone...
"I was driving an old M.G. convertible aling Copacabana Beach in Brazil and I suddenly saw Hunter loping along. I picked him up, he was a little drunk, but he said 'That's nothing, The thing that's drunk is in my pocket.' He had a drunk monkey in his pocket. The way he explained it was that he got off the plane in Rio with the monkey and went to a bar, and somebody said they would buy him a drink as long as the they could buy the monkey a drink at the same time. It probably was a bit of an exaggeration but back in the MG, the monkey had thrown up in his pocket and he was kind of smelly.
The monkey eventually committed suicide - we figured it had the D.T.'s. The maid saw it jump of the tenth-storey balcony of the apartment."
