Six Feet Under
Life's Too Short

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Aaron: B | Grade It Now!
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Death, dumb, and blind

As they drive away, Nate goes off on Brenda in the car. "That was like maybe the most fucked up thing you've ever done to me," he says. Oh, please. That doesn't even crack the top twelve list. Not that there is a top twelve list this week. "What's next?" he asks. "Are you going to start barking at me?" Brenda babbles about how Nate works with death all day, but it's the one thing he's most afraid of. "Of course I'm afraid of it!" he shouts. "What sane person isn't?" "I'm not," answers Brenda, and Nate and the entire viewing audience simultaneously reply, "Yeah, well, I said what sane person." Brenda responds to that by barking at him, and despite our disgust, Nate and the entire viewing audience are reduced to giggles. Because we're twelve.

Ye Olde Body Shoppe. David finishes lacing up Anthony's soccer shoes, and then decides to call the HDH. "What are you doing tonight?" he asks, and the Hoedown Ho responds with the oldest line in the book: "You." Ew. Cut to later, as Claire wanders into the kitchen to find David frantically searching for the aspirin bottle. Because, you know, David isn't anal retentive or anything, and he certainly never would have found time to search for it until ten seconds before his date. Claire mentions that she took some aspirin earlier, and David freaks out. "Are you okay?" he asks. Claire is confused by all this, and even more so when she realizes that he's wearing her shirt. A car horn honks outside, and Claire runs to the window, asking, "What is this, like a date?" When David admits that it is, she's shocked to discover he's dating the Hoedown Ho, which she declares is "weird." "Weird why?" asks David. "No, I get it," replies Claire. "He's hot, in kind of a generic, Banana Republic sort of way." Marry me, Lauren. I'm hot in a generic, not-at-all sort of way, but I know that we'll be happy together. Anyway, David is still freaked out about losing the aspirin bottle, especially because now he'll have to tell the HDH that he lost them because he's "this old guy geek, and [he's] completely uncool in this world in which you seem to thrive, you perfect distillation of human evolution." Ha! And also, not! The Hoedown Ho may be many things, but the perfect distillation of human evolution is not one of them. In fact, if there even is a perfect distillation of human evolution, I'd have to say it's beer. Or maybe vodka. Claire laughs, and wants to know if "this split-personality thing" only happens when Mom is out of town, because she definitely likes him better this way. We all do, honey. We all do.

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Six Feet Under

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