The survivor spoke to us though, or tried to. Mumbling through that matted brown beard of his, pale as death itself. I can__ say now if it was weakness from his wounds or what it was _ but we struggled to understand him. In fact we got nothing intelligible from him at all then. He seemed afraid, like any dying man probably would be, but he did seem more terrified than any dying man I__e seen before _ and I__e seen a few in my time. Let me tell you, Corsair or not, he grabbed whatever hand would hold his, and clenched it so tight his knuckles turned white! He kept fading out as we carried him on the stretcher board the medics brought with them. Looking back, I think he tried to warn us, poor bastard. He tried to tell us to leave him behind and go, but we wouldn__ listen. We thought we were better than the Corsairs, remember? We thought we would be all moral and upright and try to help him. __on__ say I didn__ warn you._ were the last words he said before losing consciousness. At least, those that we could make out. At the end of it all, he was right _ as it turned out, we couldn__ even help ourselves.

We love men because they can never fake orgasms, even if they wanted to.Because they write poems, songs, and books in our honor.Because they never understand us, but they never give up.Because they can see beauty in women when women have long ceased to see any beauty in themselves.Because they come from little boys.Because they can churn out long, intricate, Machiavellian, or incredibly complex mathematics and physics equations, but they can be comparably clueless when it comes to women.Because they are incredible lovers and never rest until we__e happy.Because they elevate sports to religion.Because they__e never afraid of the dark.Because they don__ care how they look or if they age.Because they persevere in making and repairing things beyond their abilities, with the naïve self-assurance of the teenage boy who knew everything.Because they never wear or dream of wearing high heels.Because they__e always ready for sex.Because they__e like pomegranates: lots of inedible parts, but the juicy seeds are incredibly tasty and succulent and usually exceed your expectations.Because they__e afraid to go bald.Because you always know what they think and they always mean what they say.Because they love machines, tools, and implements with the same ferocity women love jewelry.Because they go to great lengths to hide, unsuccessfully, that they are frail and human.Because they either speak too much or not at all to that end.Because they always finish the food on their plate.Because they are brave in front of insects and mice.Because a well-spoken four-year old girl can reduce them to silence, and a beautiful 25-year old can reduce them to slobbering idiots.Because they want to be either omnivorous or ascetic, warriors or lovers, artists or generals, but nothing in-between.Because for them there__ no such thing as too much adrenaline.Because when all is said and done, they can__ live without us, no matter how hard they try.Because they__e truly as simple as they claim to be.Because they love extremes and when they go to extremes, we__e there to catch them.Because they are tender they when they cry, and how seldom they do it.Because what they lack in talk, they tend to make up for in action.Because they make excellent companions when driving through rough neighborhoods or walking past dark alleys.Because they really love their moms, and they remind us of our dads.Because they never care what their horoscope, their mother-in-law, nor the neighbors say.Because they don__ lie about their age, their weight, or their clothing size.Because they have an uncanny ability to look deeply into our eyes and connect with our heart, even when we don__ want them to.Because when we say __ love you_ they ask for an explanation.

He stopped, finally, and smiled. __onestly? With this thing I think I could get my jerk-off muscles so well-developed that I could rub out a spooge with one pump! If that__ not worth $19.95, I don__ know what is.

Duke was already sitting in the passenger seat, waiting for her. She got in and started the car. Duke busted into a Slim Jim of his own. __ou hairy toad fucker. That stuff__ nasty. Your toilet must be like a nuclear reactor._ Dove turned on her windshield wipers as a light mist seemed to fracture the glass. ____ sorry, Whore Basket. I couldn__ hear you over the noise of you crapping your pants!_ Duke took another huge bite and chewed the waxy meat like gum. __his stuff is off the charts. I could eat vats of it.

Here__ the deal. We go in, you stand there like the asshole you are, and I explain you aren__ gay lovers with the pharmacist. Sound good?_ Dove clicked her blinker on and checked her side mirror. __ll I heard was blah, blah, holding your dick later, blah, blah._ Duke rolled down his window and stuck his face into the night.

That__ sweet. Nice of you._ Johnson put his hands in his pockets. Dove couldn__ help but wonder if he was massaging a sore bag of testicles. Dove looked around, and Johnson shuffled his feet. It seemed neither knew what to say, but she hoped neither wanted to part ways either. Johnson__ default was always medical. __ow__ your infection?_ Die. Die. Kill me. __t___ cleared up_ nicely._ Dove twisted her hand into her hair.