I think I need a shower. I feel dirty, like a young schoolboy who has just been raped under the bleachers. I just saw an advertisement for a financial planning service and Dennis Hopper was the spokesman. What was that noise? Oh, that was just the sound of thin Peter Fonda rolling over in his grave.
What's that you say? Fonda isn't dead yet?
Well, one person who deserves to be is Dennis goddamned Hopper. It's not bad enough that the hippie generation turned into the most dysfunctional group of self-absorbed, flabby, mouth-breathing fucks this planet has ever seen--now we have to endure the pimping of the one hippie who actually lived the dream. I used to love Hopper. The carefully selected roles, the strange affiliation with Sean Penn, his wonton drug use.
Now I hope he dies like Mama Cass.
Goodbye, Easyrider. I hope it was worth it.
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