Author Archives: gregorypaquin

HUNTER S. THOMPSON | HELL’S ANGELS

HUNTER S. THOMPSON | HELL’S ANGELS. via HUNTER S. THOMPSON | HELL’S ANGELS.

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“IT NEVER GOT FAST ENOUGH FOR ME” | GONZO — HUNTER S. THOMPSON

“IT NEVER GOT FAST ENOUGH FOR ME” | GONZO — HUNTER S. THOMPSON. via “IT NEVER GOT FAST ENOUGH FOR ME” | GONZO — HUNTER S. THOMPSON.

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Motorcyclic Madness: Chapter 2. The Hardening

The next morning my eyes opened long before my body wanted them to.  And it took an unreasonable amount of energy to sit up.  As my eyes focused I saw sunshine crawling through a small crack in the curtains, shining … Continue reading

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Will These Walls Remember Me?

I work in a renovated mill in Providence. Old meets new; brick and dry wall. Post and beam. I can’t walk through these hallways without existing in the past and the present. The mind is amazing. It brings us places … Continue reading

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New stuff coming soon

Hello to the few people that have actually asked me when new stuff is coming. The short answer is, very soon! I’m new to this writing genre. Though I’m enjoying how much fun it is to write this way (as … Continue reading

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A Response to School Shootings: A Scenario for Hope

So here’s the scenario: You are locked in a small, ten-by-ten room with someone that is a known murderer.  A six-foot-nine, scary looking guy with scraggly dark hair, dirty jeans, and forearms that could crush a handshake.  The whole nine. … Continue reading

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Motor-cyclic madness: A Motorcycle Road Trip, Chapter One

      The throttle on this Honda Shadow 650 doesn’t do much when you twist it.  But it doesn’t have to. The northern part of the Pacific Coast Highway winds between cliffs on both sides.  And the speed limit, paired with how unstable this … Continue reading

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On writing a book (…and Shit)

Why would I write a book about me and what goes on in my mind?  I’m not famous.  I will probably never be famous.  Yet I feel compelled, if not forced in some way to collect my thoughts and give … Continue reading

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Herbert Goddfreys: My Fictional Character is Born.

“Oh shit!” the profanity excitedly popped into my mind. “Has the deadline to apply to grad school passed already?” my heart reminded me while occupying my throat. I was so confident that I’d get in to this one particular school, even … Continue reading

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