After receiving the news he returned to his lonely home and tried to think of whom to break the news to first, before realizing that no one would care... What could have been hatred at God or his body was instead an absolute loathing at every woman he'd ever met, since now when he needed someone to care the most no one would. What to do then, to get back at everyone who had wronged him while allowing him to have one last bit of fun before his body went to the ground to rot? His plotting. ”Actually, there isn’t much that qualifies as “more important.”The conversation dies after that. Even he can’t find anything to talk about. For a guy who can talk for 20 minutes about the various cures for ice cream headaches, that’s saying something.As we get closer to the church, I can see the neighborhoods grow bleaker and greyer. I wonder for a minute if it’s my imagination, but from the graffiti, it pretty clearly isn’t. We’re on the outskirts of New York City, in a particularly run down. More

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