A Clipboard And A Hard Hat Could

Good God,” I Whispered, Sitting On The Van’s Cot And Looking At My Legs, Horrified. They Were Hairy—not Wolf Hairy, But An I-couldn’t-find-my-razor-the-last-six-months Hairy. Utterly Grossed Out, I Took A Peek At My Armpit, Jerking Away. Oh, That’s Just…nasty.

There Were No More Choices, No More Options, No More Clever Ways Out Of A Tough Situation. And The Rush, I Realized In A Brutal Wash Of Despair, Is A False God I’ve Chased My Entire Life. One That Cost Me Everything In The Blind Search For Sensation. My Entire Existence Amounted To Nothing.

I Will Compensate All Your One-inch, Two-inch Losses Because I Know How Important Every Inch Is To You Aged, Decrepit Men.

Rachel, What Do You Do? Put An Ad In The Paper For Trouble? (glenn)

Ah, Jenks? It’s Not A Lake, It’s A Friggin’ Freshwater Ocean. Did You See The Size Of The Tanker Going Under The Bridge When We Came Into Town? The Wake From It Could Tip Us. I’m Not Canoeing It Unless Your Name Is Pocahontas.