My Uncle Mike was an asshole. He was loud, crude, and pushy, and he ate the most disgusting food I’ve ever seen a human consume: sandwiches of baked beans and mayonnaise on Wonder Bread. He was, in two words, white trash. During the last few years of his life, he found his calling: driving a big rig. That is, until he got in a fistfight at a truck-stop bar one afternoon and wound up stabbed to death.
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