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People, I thought, wanted security. They couldn´t bear the idea of death being a big black nothing, couldn´t bear the thought of their loved ones not existing and couldn´t even imagine themselves not existing. I finally decided that people believed in an afterlife because they couldn´t bear not to.
"I believe," Dolores said, "that yer s´posed to drink white with turkey, but - now I don´t know ´bout yáll - but I don´t s´pose I give a shit."
Alaska decided to go help Dolores with dinner. She said it was sexist to leave the cooking to the women, but better to have good sexist food than crappy boy-prepared food.
"It ain´t much," the Colonel´s mom ("That´s Dolores, not Miss Martin") told us.
...and after a while she stopped and said, "Dig." And I said, "Dig?" and she said, "Dig."
"Hold on." He grabbed a pencil and scrawled excitedly at the paper as if he´d just made a mathematical breakthrough, and then looked back at me. "I just did some calculations and I´ve been able to determine that you are full of shit."
There are times when it is appropriate, even preferable, to get an erection when someone´s face is in close proximity to your penis. This was not one of those times.
"I suppose we could use some rain.," and the Colonel looked up at the low clouds coming in fast and threatening, and then he said, "Well, use it or not, we´re sure as shit going to get some."
And we sure as shit did.
The Colonel´s hatred for Hardsen burned with the fire of a thousand suns.
We stood silent. I felt disproportionally terrible, like I had just been caught fleeing the scene of a murder.