Too Much Fun Club

"There was no laughter tonight, only the sounds of doom and death and failure – a relentless torrent of death signals: from the sheriff, in the mail, on the phone, in my kitchen, in the air, but mainly from Maria, who said she felt it very strongly and she understood exactly why I was feeling and thinking the way I did/do, but there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't help herself. It was the death of fun, unreeling right in front of us, unraveling, withering, collapsing, draining away in the darkness like a handful of stolen mercury. Yep, the silver stuff goes suddenly, leaving only a glaze of poison on the skin."

(From: Where Were You when the Fun Stopped? by Hunter S. Thompson)

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"That was the tone of my workdays in Hollywood: violence, joy, and constant Mexican music. At one club I played the bass recorder for several hours with the band. We spent a lot of time drinking gin and lemonade on the balcony, entertaining movie people and the ever-present scribe from Rolling Stone magazine... You bet, Bubba, I was taking care of business. It was like the Too Much Fun Club. I had the cadillac and a green Mustang in the garage, in addition to the Carrera 4 porsche, but we could drive only one of them up the coast. It was an uptown problem."

(From: Fear and loathing at the Taco stand by Hunter S. Thompson)