Almost.
Sorta.
Scary things don't scare me, I should say. I don't fear airplane rides, or car accidents, or illness, or alcohol poisoning, or...Draculas. I don't know--what else is there? Most of it, I'm unfazed by. I shrug and say, "Oh well." Because we're all gonna die. And I'd rather die, any day, than live contrary to my whims.
Is that a
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But I guess the two are similar. After all, you've got that Shakespearean metaphor "to die" which is supposed to be like "to splooge."
Plus, with murder and sex, you think the same thing after both: "I gotta get out of here!" To quote a great and wise man.
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