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The hell of it was, this was something the world should have seen-the good doctor of gonzo journalism carving up the pornographic film industry, skewering producers for their abject greed and at least one female star for being meaner than Roberto Duran. There were maybe a dozen pages in all, and atop the first one, he had printed NOT FOR PUBLICATION in red ink, a warning that forced the magazine editor showing me Thompson’s missive into grudging acquiescence. The last memorable thing I read by Hunter Thompson was written in his own hand on sheets from a legal pad.
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