I rolled over to cry.The pressure came. I knew where I was this time. I was dead at eighty years old and they were burying me. I felt the pressure gro...w with every shovelful of dirt they piled on. Of course I couldn’t breathe. Of course I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t feel anything but the growing pressure. I was dead. I needed to just let go. There was nothing there on the other side of death but the absorption of my body into the pressure of earth. Maybe one day, like dinosaurs of old, I would. I asked if the rope on thewrists might not cause rope burns if indeed it wasrequiredto take a portion of the slaves weight. He fell for it and told me to throw a rope over the beam andpull him onto his tip toes. I did as he said using his rightwrist and once he was on his toes knotted it off. His leftarm hung at his side as he twisted and turned still braggingabout what a safe secure tie this was and then asked me tountie him and admit that he was indeed no longer an apprenticemaster in that he. One example of frustrating moments is when his mother was helping him with 8th grade American history. His text book said one of the requirements to be president is to be a natural born citizen. His mom didn't think that was fair because it discriminated against all the people that were born by cesarean section.Another is when Dick tried sunbathing in the nude when he was 15, fell asleep, and sun burned his cock. It really hurt and in true teenager fashion, did something stupid. He was drinking. So I put on Bobby's kinky leather pants. Since he was the one that had ripped my jeans. Picked up the wallets from the other guys and took my hourly wages. Angrily throwing their empty wallets back in their faces. Out of one of the hoodie pockets dropped a loaded gun. I picked it up and put it in my biker jacket. After putting my boots back on I shouted to them; "Tell James, I will be dropping by to collect the rest! You so-called gangsters are pathetic. Can't even last 3 minutes on my ass..