I haven’t done one of these weekly writing challenges in a while. This week’s challenge is to emulate the great Hunter S. Thompson’s gonzo journalism:
Report on one event/gathering/happening from your week in Gonzo journalism style. The event can be anything from your life: a slice of your weekly drawing class, the conversation between the butcher and the man buying stewing beef at the meat counter in your local grocery store, or what you observe and hear while you’re at the gas station filling up. Cram as many details in as you can. Record any dialogue as accurately as possible: include pauses, slang, stumbles, inflection, etc. Your post needs to be a minimum of three paragraphs long.
Arse over head elbows in sheets tangled around my ears head first outta bed. Ring-ading-ading-ading-ading for fuck’s sake turn that off. Toothpaste on cheeks sun baked on back skin dress wash face make-up jab eye spray wipe sip swipe. Dogs are going nar-nar-nar at the door, push past furry barks, get in car, swing it in reverse through blurred eye-liner and down a steep incline, godsdammit, one of these days that handbrake’s gonna eat it and the car’s gonna roll
roll down the road still going ring-ading-ading maybe nobody’s home. Two guys with guns broke in the other night next door ring-ading-ading no help, light switch
laptop on. Right. Where was I? Fuck! There it goes again, ading-ding-ding, shits, close windows, sit far from fence can nobody else hear it?
Ding-dong. Not for me, never for me. Ding-dong. Gotta finish this paragraph ding-dong-ding-dong-ding dong!
Storm through house barefoot make-up glistening on my forehead ading-ading-ading.
“Hello, how are you?”
“Fine, fine. What’s up?”
“We are talking to you and your neighbours about…”
“I’m sorry. I can’t. I have a deadline.”
“Oh. Okay. But…”
“Goodbye.” lock door.
The quiet is unbecoming.
This is the city this is the day this is the life I’ve chosen phones ring emails ping neighbours who can’t sing alarm bells on my wings