Sliding into the seat, he turned the key. Nothing. He turned it again and still nothing. Then he remembered getting out of the truck, leaving his ligh...s on after shooting the wolf. He popped the hood and looked in exasperation and the single battery. He had planned to pick up a second one but since he normally drove his work car, he had put it off. Now he was paying the price. With a sparse shred of hope, he opened the hood on Morgan’s truck to see if her battery was interchangeable with his.. I hate Thanksgiving so much that fucking the brains out of some strange grubby homeless guy just seems right to me. My psychologist says that I have a "self loathing" issue and that may be so, but I don't really care what he says. It fills a deep down need in me.I only have sex once a year, on Thanksgiving Day, and always with some drunken smelly guy who probably won't even remember who he had sex with by morning. He might not even realize that he had sex at all. But I would know, and I always. More

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