Ever had the urge to dump all self control "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" Style?

I don’t necesarily mean use lots of drugs. Have you ever felt like ignoring your daily self control routine and just doing whatever the hell you felt like doing. Sod work the next day (even though it’s a job with a skeleten crew and your absence would be disasterous) drink till you pass out. get up when you feel like it. no wash, no shower. say what the hell you like to complete strangers (such as “hey dickbrain, you’re blocking the whole path with your shallow teenage banter”)

Ever acted on that or similar urges? Tell me about it.

[sub] I have had the mild urge. when I have not wanted to moderate my drinking because I am at work in 9 hours. But I have never acted upon those urges[/sub]

That’s actually what my life is like. Seriously, ask anyone who knows me. :wink:

And I have actually gone off for a few weekends full out Hunter S. Thompson style. At one point I even came to someone’s house drunk holding a road cone for a housewarming gift.

There was another time in SoCal when I spent several months wandering aimlessly between Mexico and America, living on a boat witha crack addict. As a further humorous turn, we rented the boat from someone else who didn’t own it.

And don’t even ask about what i was doing in Mexico. I’m still not sure how much of that was illegal, but trust me, some of it must have been.

I’d pee my pants laughing if someone brought me a road cone as a housewarming gift!!

Imagine getting a call from your friend’s cell on the way there asking if you already had one :wink:

“Do you have a road cone?”

“Um, no.”


No, but I’ve had this urge sometimes to drop out and live in a trailer behind a Texas truck stop by the interstate. I’d work as a dishwasher and spend my nights reading by the open window paperback books the truckers leave behind. (Wanders off, humming “King of the Road”)

Ahahahahahaha. Did the person keep the cone? I certainly would have. That’s the most awesome housewarming gift I have heard of!

A long-ago boyfriend gave me a traffic cone for Christmas. Let’s just say he was a very free spirit. He toodled over to my mom’s house on Christmas eve, rang the doorbell and stood there beaming, clutching a bilious-orange traffic cone.
He quite amiably explained he’d forgotten to buy me anything, but figured I didn’t already have a traffic cone.
I cracked up into wailing, rib-clutching, hiccuping laughter and even my rather snooty mom was enchanted. What a magnificent doofus.


Turns out it was a great gift for them. They still actually have it. :wink:

I have not lived that down yet though. It’s apparently a part of the conversation at every gathering there. :smack:

ok, this is the lamest possible ‘going off the deep end’ imaginable, but let me explain and then you can all laugh at my lameness.

So Dangergene and the young master (the spawn of Dangergene) are out a-shopping on saturday evening and we get stuck behind a trio of not-fat, not-old lady-folks. Now, whilst the fat/old things aren’t relevant normally, in this case they are. Y’see, these ladies were ambling along in the most mind-numbingly irritating fashion. Stopping and starting and just being damn SLOW!!! And somehow they managed to block not just the aisles, but also the wide-open bits. We were trapp-ed and their brake lights weren’t working! (which is understandable, cos were we inside a mall and everyone was on foot, but still, bear with me) Several *‘excuse me’*s and whatnot failed to get them to move. So eventually we get to the top of the down-scalator (that’s an escalator that goes down) and the ladies STOP. DEAD. They’d been moving so slowly that we found ourselves very close behind them (in our efforts to pass them and make our appointment which we were now late for). Again, none of this would be relevant, except the young master was in his stroller. And when Lady #slow stopped well… we didn’t. And we clipped the back of her ankle ever so lightly.

Wohoooo! you’d think I’d broadsided her in a Semi, given the outpouring of, ‘oooh, oooooow’ etc. Twas a very FamilyGuy response.

Well, here’s my HunterS-style response.
I didn’t say sorry!

yup, that’s right. At that very instant I allowed civilised societal norms to break down. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head slowly.
Then we got on the escalator and high-tailed it out of there!

Now, I know what you’re saying, ‘how can such a bad-boy even be allowed on these boards?’. and I know, lo they shall sing songs of my wild-life on the narrow margins outside of society. I shall be immortalised as the baddest (read:lamest) outlaw of them all.

worst part of all, I didn’t even mean to hit her, cos I know that hurts! But DAMN, get out of the goddamn way, PLEASE!!!

ok… you can laugh now


Oh my, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.

I was talking about this last night with some friends. I’ve always had the urge to just up and leave. Work petty jobs and live in ratty hotels weeks at time, move and do it again. And maybe get spun in the process.

Nope, never. I’ve partied like a rock star a few times, but I’m really just a weekend warrior.

::sigh:: Yes, Shaolinrabbit it’s just you. :smiley:

I have ditched it all for delusions of adventure, excitement, passion… um, yeah, it didn’t work out for me. I hated it, because underneath my yearning for adventure, I’m really just a homebody. My home is very important to me, as well as a solid sense of security and safety (things that don’t naturally go along with adventure and excitement).
Nowadays, while I still have those days I would give 5 years of my life to play hooky and run free and unfettered, the majority of the time I relish a routine, the predictability and boring-ness of regular life.
Alchohol or drugs never played a role in my dreams of a roguish life.

Not traffic cones… but for a while my friends seemed to constantly bring me those blinking traffic horse things (we called them “blinkies” for lack of a technical name). My apartment was bathed in the orangey-yellow glow of blinking lights for quite a while.

I did once “lose it” HST style, and wound up getting married at the drivethru wedding chapel in Las Vegas. Considering I was a coupla thousand miles from Vegas when I started… I was pretty impressed. And no, the marriage suprisingly didn’t last.

ShaolinRabbit It isn’t just you.

I was shopping in the supermarket when I saw a man point at a display of Kededm brand grapejuice in the kosher section.

“That’s grape juice for the Jews.” He explained.

I walked over (I wear a yarmulke) and said

“It also containes the antidotes to the various chemicals the Jewish conspiracy puts into the water supply. Shhh! Don’t let anybody know that I told you.” I then walked off.

At a party at a relative’s house following a Bar Mitzvah I came to the conclusion that the man I was talking to was an unbelievable moron. When I tried to pin him on the particular which caused me to conclude this, he changed the subject several times. I finally cornered him. He stated that he did indeed believe the incredibly stupid thing he had implied earlier. Despite being a guest, I loudly told him just what an idiot he was. I then walked off as the sheer level of his stupidity was such that I feared I would become violent.

On the way to the local quickiemart, I was approached by a man my own age. I stopped, assuming that he might need directions or something similar. Instead, despite the yarmulke, he asked “Have you found Jesus?” I will not give my full reply as that would offend the Christians of the board (I respect Christianity. I can understand witnessing to people who may be lapsed Christians. I’m very obviously Jewish. I’ve already found a religion I’m quite happy with), But what I said included ‘Yeah. He’s the reason I’m going to the quickiemart. He’s got the munchies real bad. It’s not surprising considering how much weed we smoked… So he sent me forth to seek out Doritos and some Pepsi.’

I routinely tell telemarketers, with absolute courtesy, that I am an alien or have a CIA implant in my brain.
“Thank you. But, I need no paper. I have gathered all the necessary information about your world and sent it to the home planet. The mother ship will arrive in seven of your days. I suggest you use the remaining time to make peace with your loved ones and your gods. Have a nice day.”

I have far more difficulty observing societal norms than breaking them.

DocCathode, isn’t it fairly accurate to say that a kosher version of a food is “for the Jews?” Is there a bad connotation there that I’m not getting?

I left out a vital word during editting. The man was saying this to his girlfriend. Had he said this to a child, I would have simply waited to see if the kid had any questions that the man couldn’t answer, of if a better explanation was needed.

He didn’t seem to be answering a question. Neither he or his girlfriend had any accent or other indication that they weren’t from the Philadelphia area.

If you’re from Philly, you would have to lead an exceedingly sheltered life in order to reach the late twenties without knowing what kosher is.

More, he seemed to say it as a strange non sequitoir. Almost as though he were stoned.

We called them “blinkas” and it was a game to steal them - but only those that weren’t in use (no sense in endangering the innocent) I woke up to one on the garage roof one teenage birthday - can’t remember how I managed to get it into my room…damn those things are bright! I believe my father returned it years later during a “traffic-sign-amnesty”

And to answer the question - yes, I have wanted to unhinge the brain as it were. I’ve always pictured more of a “Drusilla-from-Buffy” kind of madness. Maybe without the killing.