DUFFEL BLOG PRESENTS: Hunter S. Thompson gives your weekend safety brief
Camp Pendleton. Hours before a 72. Heavily-tattooed Marines standing in formation. All amped up for the weekend. Ready to kill. Ready to fuck. Patiently waiting to be cut loose so they can take over Oceanside like Genghis Khan. Drinking. Smoking. Ah these insane men... Jones, Smith, Carkoski, Ames.
Short hair flowing down the 5 in their Mustangs and Jeeps, edging traffic out of their way as they pass like a bolt of lightning.
Libo was on. Devil dogs from all over the north end of base rolled in packs toward San Clemente, Oceanside, and San Diego. The hardcore, the motivated, the seniors without any fucks left, all grunts … bringing along their backpacks and sunglasses, secure in their reputation as being in the most forsaken job in the whole history of the US military.
From the Basilone Road gate, they went toward the Triangle — three bars in close proximity in San Clemente — where three dozen or so would drink, fight, and drink some more, while some would be arrested for public intoxica…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Duffel Blog to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.