Parish gave his last fuck in 1987; he was burying another rando (touched Garcia) and the ground was tough. He had to use the shovel as a spade to chop through a thick root buried under the dirt. It just wouldn’t give, and Parish put his foot up on the shovel to give himself leverage and SHKRAK the fibrous gnarl gave way to tender soil beneath.
And as the root split, so did Parish’s last fuck. In later years, Parish would wonder what the two things had to do with one another, but then he would realize he didn’t give a fuck.
(Also: I have nothing but love and respect for my sister-in-law Annabelle Garcia, but she may or may not know how to spell Parish’s last name. Perhaps Parish spelled it wrong on his book. We’ll never know.)