



Unless of course you’re Brian Kinney. And then it’s, “who gives a fuck what you think? you’re lucky to have me.”
“Whether we see each other next week, next month, never again, it doesn’t matter. It’s only time.”
Why are you doing this? To show everyone what a hero you are? That despite insurmountable odds, the…great Kinney can cross the finish line with one arm tied behind his back? There’s no need to, you’ve already proved yourself. You’ve raised $100,000 for the hospice. What more do you need to do? It’s not about the money. Then what’s it about? Killing yourself? Did you ever see that story on TV about those women… that had cancer? So what do they do? They go to this boot camp… where they have to climb over walls and crawl through the mud, and swing over these bottomless pits while this former Luftwaffe drill sergeant terrorizes them. […] Then one of them comes out of this swamp that’s full of fucking crocodiles or sharks or something. And she’s laughing. Laughing. And she says…