Breakfast is the only meal of the day that I tend to view with the same kind of
traditionalized reverence that most people associate with Lunch and Dinner. I like to eat
breakfast alone, and almost never before noon; anybody with a terminally jangled
lifestyle needs at least one psychic anchor every twenty-four hours, and mine is
breakfast. In Hong Kong, Dallas or at home — and regardless of whether or not I have
been to bed — breakfast is a personal ritual that can only be properly observed alone,
and in a spirit of genuine excess. The food factor should always be massive: four Bloody
Marys, two grapefruits, a pot of coffee, Rangoon crepes, a half-pound of either sausage,
bacon, or corned beef hash with diced chiles, a Spanish omelette or eggs Benedict, a
quart of milk, a chopped lemon for random seasoning, and something like a slice of Key
lime pie, two margaritas, and six lines of the best cocaine for dessert…. Right, and
there should also be two or three newspapers, all mail and messages, a telephone, a
notebook for planning the next twenty-four hours and at least one source of good
music…. All of which should be dealt with outside, in the warmth of a hot sun, and
preferably stone naked.

hunter s thompson

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