The Ralph Steadman of illustrations evoking a the drug-saturated and otherwise seriously fucked up mind of Hunter S. Thompson has published a book of cat drawings. I bought it for Eric for our solstice gift exchange, because I'm that thoughtful. I may have enjoyed the book more than he did, but I would have never bought it for myself. He's welcome.
The cover doesn't do the book justice, so I searched the internet for more and discovered Steadman also did a Book of Dogs. First. Wtf?
Here's a cat illustration that's a little more indicative of the general tone: