When I’m feeling particularly superficial I refer to this line in Slaughterhouse Five: “Like so many Americans she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.”
I am a big Hunter S. Thompson fan. Sometimes I think it’s an odd fit. I’m a feminist (I could argue that seeking out misogyny in prose written by “dead white males” is for a tireless sort, which I am not.) I don’t do psychedelic drugs. I’m not trying to be a journalist.
My first tattoo was done by the very talented Andy Johnson at Long Street Collective in Columbus. I chose a typewriter to reflect my wannabe-writer ambitions. It is also an homage to Hunter S. Thompson, who, despite his drug induced semi-mysogynist ramblings, holds a special place in my heart.