Stand jokes
A woman decides to have a face lift for her 50th birthday.
She spends $15,000 and looks sensational. On her way home, she stops at a news stand to buy a newspaper. Before leaving, she says to the clerk, “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but how old do you think I am?”
“About 32,” is the reply.
“Nope! I’m exactly 50,” the woman says happily.
A little while later she goes into McDonald’s and asks the counter girl the very same question.
The girl replies, “I’d guess about 29.” The woman replies with a big smile, “Nope, I’m 50.”
Now she’s feeling really good about herself. She stops at a candy shop on her way down the street.
She goes up to the counter to get some mints and asks the assistant the same burning question.
The clerk responds, “Oh, I’d say 30.”
Again she proudly responds, “I’m 50, but thank you!”
While waiting for the bus to go home, she asks an old man waiting next to her the same question.
He replies, “Lady, I’m 78 and my eyesight is going. Although, when I was young there was a sure-fire way to tell how old a woman was. It sounds very forward, but it requires you to let me put my hands under your bra. Then, and only then I can tell you EXACTLY how old you are.”
They wait in silence on the empty street until her curiosity gets the better of her. She finally blurts out, “What the hell, go ahead.”
He slips both of his hands under her blouse and begins to feel around very slowly and carefully. He bounces and weighs each breast and he gently pinches each nipple. He pushes her breasts together and rubs them against each other.
After a couple of minutes of this, she says, “Okay, okay... How old am I?”
He completes one last squeeze of her breasts, removes his hands, and says, “Madam, you are 50.”
Stunned and amazed, the woman says, “That was incredible, how could you tell?”
“I was behind you at McDonalds’."
You're so ugly whenever you say hi, people walk away and say that you were too ugly, and they go take a bath right away because you're so stinky.
They say that you look like your mama. Wait, your mama must be just like you because I can see her way from a mile!
You say you put on perfume, but every time I smell you, you smell like poo-poo. You're so ugly that when your mom looks in the mirror, you cry. You're so stupid the second-grade teacher had to tell you to go all the way to kindergarten. Head Start is every grade below you. You can't even go to the 20th grade, which stands for 9th grade. You can't even go to grocery stores, and people that tell you that you're so ugly give you compliments just to make you feel better. You know that everybody just likes you just because they just don't want to hurt your feelings, so just stay in your mind. Hey, you want to text Matt; you know it was you because every time you see you, you think that you matter. Matter fact, he doesn't even like you; he just wants your money girl. Who even likes you? 😈😈
Madden Whiffen, a curious soul, With an appetite beyond control, A bottomless pit, never satisfied, Ingesting all that's placed beside.
From dawn till dusk, he feasts his way, Devouring meals without delay, With gusto he consumes, without restrain, Every morsel, every crumb, he'll obtain.
No dish too large, no portion too small, His hunger insatiable, devouring it all, From succulent meats to delicate greens, He relishes the flavors, savoring each scene.
A culinary adventure, forever he embarks, Sampling cuisines from all walks and arcs, From street food to gourmet, he seeks it all, His palate an explorer, on a constant sprawl.
He savors the spices, the textures, the taste, In a gastronomic journey, no time to waste, For Madden Whiffen, the food is his muse, A symphony of flavors, he'll never refuse.
But caution, dear friends, in this feeding spree, For gluttony can lead to a troublesome plea, Madden Whiffen, beware the consequences, For overindulgence brings no recompenses.
In the realm of cuisine, he reigns supreme, A legend of eating, a man of extreme, Madden Whiffen, the one who eats it all, In his gastronomic pursuit, he stands tall.
So let us marvel at his voracious might, As he devours dishes, day and night, For in Madden Whiffen, we witness the feat, A man who eats everything, a culinary elite.
One day a teacher stands up in front of her class and asks if anyone in the class is an idiot, and says that if there is one, then he/she should stand up.
After a minute, a boy stands up.
The teacher then asks the boy if he actually thinks he's an idiot.
The boy says, "No, I just didn't want to see you standing there all by yourself."
I entered Kian's house. At the top of the stair, I was greeted by my greatest fantasy, JOHN. He said in a manly tone, "Hello there." I walked slowly up the stairs and greeted him back. As I walked past his room, I felt uneasy. I walked into Kian's room to find no one. I turned around and gasped. John is standing there, a bulge had appeared and poked me as he got nearer. He pushed me onto Kian's bed. The bed was that bad it broke as I fell onto it. John says, "A broken bed is nothing to worry about." I look up at him in disbelief, he's more masculine than I thought. He thrust himself onto me, his crotch area sticky to the touch. He then ripped a fart as he bent over, at this point I knew it was too late John, the fart he ripped (sticky to the touch) had me so in shock I wasn't ready for what was next, he picked and jumped on my head ripping the most monstrous, enormous, deadly, sticky to the touch fart I'd ever seen, it knocked me out. I awoke to find I was in the WALLS. I looked out to find I was in the glory hole, my worst nightmare had become reality, I fully understood my purpose in life was to the holy glory hole, I heard "GRANDAD CAN I GET SOME V-BUCK" I then knew I was in for some Kian treats.
The end
The streets go blank in the dead of the day, not a car to be seen.
A kingdom of corona-cation, and it looks like mom's the queen.
The wind is howling with this virus in the air.
Couldn't keep it in China, everyone knows it's everywhere.
Don't let friends in, don't be afraid.
Be the good girl you always have to be.
Conceal, don't feel your insanity, that the virus caused!
Don't let it go! Don't let it go! You have to hold it back a little more! Don't let it go! Don't let it go! Turn away and slam your doors!
I don't care what the government says! Let me go to my friend's house.
Sickness doesn't get to me anyway.
It's funny how some distance makes everyone insane, and the fears that once controlled me are here and present, oh well!
It's time to see what I can do to test the limits and break through!
No right, no wrong, but stay inside!
WE'RE NOT FREE!!
Don't let it go! Don't let it go! Be one with the peace inside!! Don't let it go! Don't let it go! Watch sad movies and cry!! Here I stand!! And here I'll stay!! 'Cause I have nothing better to do.
The virus flurries through the air into my house!
The storm is spiraling, fear and fractals all around!!
And one thought makes you wanna scream and shout out loud!!
What if we never go back? What if the past is in the past????
DON'T LET IT GO DON'T LET IT GO!! And you'll rise at the break of noon! DON'T LET IT GO DON'T LET IT GO!! That's morning girl is gone!! HERE I STAND IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT 'CAUSE THAT'S WHEN I WOKE UP!! Let the virus rage on!!!!!! The sickness never gets to me anyway. DING.
What does NASA stand for? Need Another Seven Astronauts.
A blind comedian was asked to do stand up for a hospital. No one laughed at his jokes, so he continued to sing, "If you're happy and you know it..."
The room was full of arm amputees.
The teacher asks her class, "What is sex?" and Little Jonny stands up and says, "Sex is the temptation caused by the sensation when a boy sticks his location into a girl's destination. Did you get my explanation or do you need a demonstration?" and the teacher fainted.
Why is Stephen Hawking a bad role model? -- He doesn't stand for anything.
Shit, if somebody invades America, the Crips and the Bloods are gonna call a truce so that they can get the big toys out and call Geneva achievement. White women would ride into battle riding lions, tigers, and bears while claymore-strapped rhumbas swept the streets. There's a reason Putin keeps threatening to boom boom us with the boom booms and make you see x-rays before you go go.
We have freaking cannibals still. Hell, we have more guns than people. Dodging bullets has become a rite of passage. Just look at how we raise our kids on caffeine and M16s playing Call of Duty. Then we send them into the warzone known as the American public education system with no weapons. No means to protect themselves other than with their fists. Here Timmy, fight off the bullets with your bare fist and hope you can zig-zag. Hell, the quiet kids in this country start dropping bodies just cause you teased them. The fuck you think's gonna happen when Timmy can't get his damn chicken nuggets and you took his internet out?
Hell, the gangs in America would no longer make their money off the drugs illegally. They'd be our medics and taking bets on kill shots. Don't even get me started on the unhinged millennials the moment they can't get their mood stabilizers. War crimes would become an art form and we'd run around like we playing Pokemon. GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL! Americans would turn war crimes into an extreme sport while the military stands back and records it just so they can show the rest of the world the example of why not to fuck with us. Shit, Geneva Convention would turn into a to-do list on every American household fridge. We take that shit so seriously we'd have Comedy Central sending Kevin Hart to tell us rules for engagement. Racism in America would be single-handedly by ended as Billy Bob and Tyrone high five because they think they just unlocked the super secret duck hunt level with foreign paratroopers. Shit somebody please threaten us with a good time. Invade the United States. Let us show you why the first color in our flag is red.
I saw a man trying to rape a girl. I decided to help. She didn't stand a chance against both of us.
In pixels and polygons, a virtual realm unfolds, A battleground where warriors gather, young and old. A game of wits and strategy, a dance of skill and might, Behold the phenomenon, the world of Fortnite.
What is Fortnite, you ask, this digital sensation? A realm where dreams are forged, in endless animation. A world of endless possibilities, where heroes rise and fall, A tapestry of triumph, where victory calls.
From humble beginnings, a storm begins to brew, A hundred souls drop down, with dreams anew. An island vast and varied, a landscape to explore, From verdant meadows to urban cities, the battles roar.
With pickaxe in hand, we gather resources with haste, Wood, metal, and stone, the foundation of our base. We build and we craft, constructing our fort, A fortress of defense, where enemies are fought.
The storm looms ever closer, a force we can't deny, Pushing us closer together, as time quickly flies. We strategize and plan, our tactics ever shifting, In this ever-shrinking world, our spirits uplifting.
Weapons and loot, scattered throughout the land, We arm ourselves with firepower, take our final stand. Shotguns, rifles, explosives, and more, In this game of survival, we even the score.
But Fortnite is more than just a battle royale, A canvas for creativity, where imaginations set sail. From creative mode to party royale, a world of endless fun, With friends and strangers, united as one.
Yet amidst the chaos, let's not forget, Fortnite is but a game, a virtual vignette. For beyond the pixels and the storms that rage, Lies a world that beckons, beyond the digital stage.
So let us embrace the joy that Fortnite brings, A tapestry of moments, where victory sings. For in this realm of pixels and dreams, Fortnite shines bright, a testament it seems.
So gather your friends, embark on this quest, In the realm of Fortnite, put your skills to the test. For in the end, it's not just about the game we play, But the bonds we form, as we dance and slay.
Why did Muhammad Ali go down? Because he couldn't stand the cancer.
So do you guys know those waterslides that you stand in, and then they suddenly drop you straight down onto the water slide? If not, look them up on YouTube, there's nothing like them.
Ah yes, the sweet memories of my first time on one of these. I feel that my mental/emotional scars have healed enough to tell this gem.
At the time my girlfriend, now Fiancée, worked as a photographer for one of those resorts with the indoor and outdoor water parks. One of her perks was that her and a family member/friend could get into the waterpark for free, so one hot summer day she had off and we both decided it'd be fun to go there and cool down for the day.
While we were there, I discovered one of there most "Thrilling" looking waterslides. Basically you stand in this tube, and then the slide operator presses a button and this slide drops you straight down a good 90 FEET, before you actually start going down the water slide. Me, being a thrill seeker, of course had to try it. So I made the great climb up to the top of the slide, stood in line, and finally it was my turn. Once I got in the tube, the operator told me to keep my legs crossed. Now I'm a pretty big heavy guy, so I was like "That's uncomfortable as fuck, I'm not doing that."
So there I was standing in the tube, having a panic attack from anticipation, with my legs not crossed. The operator finally presses the button, the bottom opens and I fall straight down the water slide. Very quickly I realized why they have you cross your legs. Water shot so far up my ass, so fast, I swear I tasted it in my mouth. My body raced down that slide, as I questioned every life choice that I have ever made.
Once I made it to the bottom, I sat there for a moment, absolutely violated. I felt like someone in an episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. I built up the courage to finally stand up, and all I could feel was the nice warm stream of water mixed with shit, and maybe a little bit of blood shoot out of my ass faster than the Steamboat Geyser at Yellowstone National Park. I quickly got off the slide and ran to the bathroom, with a trail of shitty water tailing me as the slide operator stared in awe. They had to shut down the slide for the rest of the day :'), but man was my asshole clean after that!
Moral of the story: Keep your damn legs crossed on waterslides.
Same thing goes when you are at bible study with a handsy priest.
What do you say to your customer at a popsicle stand when he asks for the price?
Dollar a pop!
Get it?
1. A young boy enters a barber shop and the barber whispers to his customer, "This is the dumbest kid in the world. Watch while I prove it to you." The barber puts a dollar bill in one hand and two quarters in the other, then calls the boy over and asks, "Which do you want, son?" The boy takes the quarters and leaves. "What did I tell you?" said the barber. "That kid never learns!" Later, when the customer leaves, he sees the same young boy coming out of the ice cream parlor. "Hey, son! May I ask you a question? Why did you take the quarters instead of the dollar bill?" The boy licked his cone and replied: "Because the day I take the dollar the game is over!"
2. "If there are any idiots in the room, will they please stand up," said the sarcastic teacher. After a long silence, one freshman rose to his feet. "Now then mister, why do you consider yourself an idiot?" inquired the teacher with a sneer. "Well, actually I don't," said the student, "but I hate to see you standing up there all by yourself."
3. A guy said to God, "God, is it true that to you a billion years is like a second?" God said yes. The guy said, "God, is it true that to you a billion dollars is like a penny?" God said yes. The guy said, "God, can I have a penny?" God said, "Sure, just a second."
4. Putin is held hostage by a terrorist. A Russian truckdriver stops at the back of a long queue on the motorway. He sees a policeman walking down the line of stopped cars to briefly talk to the drivers. As the policeman approaches the truck, the truckdriver rolls down his window and asks, "What's going on?" Policeman: "A terrorist is holding Putin hostage in a car. He's demanding 10 million rubles, or he'll douse Putin in petrol and set him on fire. So we're asking drivers for donations." Driver: "Oh, ok. How much do people donate on average?" Policeman: "About a gallon."
5. A wife got so mad at her husband she packed his bags and told him to get out. As he walked to the door she yelled, "I hope you die a long, slow, painful death." He turned around and said, "So, you want me to stay?"
6. My boss was honest with me today. He pulled up to work with his sweet new car this morning and I complimented him on it. He replied, "Well, if you work hard, set goals, stay determined and put in long hours, I can get an even better one next year."
7. After a prolonged drought when the rain came, all the animals in the forest were happy except the Kangaroo. When the others asked him what the reason was for such sadness, the Kangaroo revealed that the rain meant that all its kids would now be playing inside.
8. My girlfriend and I are trying this whole "long distance relationship" thing. I have to stay 100 feet away from her at all times. Also, the police say I should stop referring to her as my girlfriend.
9. The wife and I took a long, leisurely drive out to the country and pulled over to fill up our car's gas tank and tires... She was surprised to see that the station had a fee to fill the tires and asked me, "Why in the world do they charge for AIR?!" I responded, "Inflation."
10. During my check-up I asked the Doctor, "Do you think I'll live a long and healthy life then?" He replied, "I doubt it somehow. Mercury is in Uranus right now." I said, "I don't go in for any of that astrology nonsense." He replied, "Neither do I. My thermometer just broke."
The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"
Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!
The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.
For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!
The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!
In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.
"The little horse wins!"
"Lath, an easy winner!"
"Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"
People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.
Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.
"I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."
Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.
A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.
"And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"
Agba leaned forward in his saddle.
There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."
How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.
The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.
Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.
He had kept his word!
For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.
The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in...
A politician dies. So a politician dies and ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.
"So, you're a politician..." "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately, you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that, however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!"
"Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules," says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy disappears...
And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds... Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be, right?
"Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite... And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But... Where are all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit misrepresented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is, of course, free, as is the room service, there are extra towels next to the hot tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside..." Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on-site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbor!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift and walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cheerily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course is made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2-foot-tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying on important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Gandhi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear... And they return to their penthouse suite and spend the rest of the night making love as they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows and falls into a deep and happy sleep...
And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then," says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well... I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell," says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.
The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulfurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks, and the sunshine???"
"Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted..."
There's a man crawling through the desert. He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here. He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last. He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So, he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the direction he thinks is right. He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst. He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark. By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the town. But he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills, and that'll be all he needs. As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things, he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights. Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars. He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car. He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water, this is his last day. He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid. Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do. Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking. As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stop sweating he knows that means you're in trouble - usually right before heat stroke. He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large rock, and takes the bottle. "BETTER NATE THAN LEVER!!!"