Jerzy Krukowski 5 Posted February 17, 2009 [quote user="shyster"][quote user="TheCanaryFan"][quote user="braintree canary"]sorry wasnt meant to offend but thought it was a little bit funny...[/quote]Sadly so will alot of other posters. Fair play for the apology though.[/quote]Hey, chump! I didn''t find the joke funny at all. Neither did I find the whole Jean Charles de menez case funny - he was yet another foreign illegal that cost the British tax payer a small fortune.[/quote]Was him being an illegal immigrant the worst part? Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Thecanaryfan 0 Posted February 17, 2009 [quote user="shyster"][quote user="TheCanaryFan"][quote user="braintree canary"]sorry wasnt meant to offend but thought it was a little bit funny...[/quote]Sadly so will alot of other posters. Fair play for the apology though.[/quote]Hey, chump! I didn''t find the joke funny at all. Neither did I find the whole Jean Charles de menez case funny - he was yet another foreign illegal that cost the British tax payer a small fortune.[/quote]Foreign Illegal? I think you will find he was a national, not an immigrant. However, that really isnt the point. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
The ghost of Michael Theoklitos 0 Posted February 17, 2009 Did you ever hear about the homosexual hermit?You wouldn''t want to know him. He really is up himself. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
WeAreYellows49 0 Posted February 17, 2009 "Norfolk&Chance" Said - Did you ever hear about the homosexual hermit? You wouldn''t want to know him. He really is up himself lmao [:D] Metaphorically, the ''Midas touch'' is defined as someone of good fortune, for whom everything they touch "turns to gold".Gordon Brown is said to have the ''Andrex touch.'' [:S] Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Jonzey 0 Posted February 17, 2009 [quote user="Jimmy Smith"][quote user="Jonzey"]Well Newcastle take some beating as the biggest joke, 50 years plus with no silverwear, a cockney owner who pretends to be a Geordie and is now stuck with a club who he only bought to make a profit, then to top it all appointing Joe Kinnear (??!!) after sacking Keegan, a man who admitted at the interview he hadn''t watched a game for 3 years!Maybe we do fall into the ''what a shame'' catergory. Which is probably worse. But then ever since we first went down mid nineties we''ve consistently under performed. Even when we scraped the play offs we had been dreadful most of the season. The only blip was when the board had a fit of ambition, bought in Crouch and Huckerby and we cruised the league.Why can''t we even do a Preston and be a decent, consistent Championship side, who are normally well in the mix?[/quote]ahhh, finally someone with my view! i find it so hard to convince my friends who mainly support decent premiership teams that it really has been that bad for the last 15 years![/quote]I wouldn''t mind our predicament if we were a small Doncaster type club punching above our weight, but we should have been higher in the league in probably 14 of the last 15 seasons. Yet every year we struggle and under perform. Every year the management fail to sort the defence. Every year I want to become a Manchester Utd supporter and take the easy road. Yet every year I stay loyal and wonder why! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
ron obvious 1,502 Posted February 17, 2009 A girl walked into a bar & asked the bartender for a double entendre.So he gave her one. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Robert Ketts Yellow Army 15 Posted February 17, 2009 UK plc Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
hogesar 9,676 Posted February 17, 2009 Not sure about bigger, but certainly longer:TheLongest Joke in the World* * * Lost in the Desert So, there''s a man crawling through the desert. He''ddecided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, hadgreat fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hita big rock, and then he couldn''t get it started again. There were nocell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. Hehad no family, his parents had died a few years before in an autoaccident, 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 ranoutand he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the directionback, now that he''d paid attention to the sun and thought he''d figuredout whichway was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only hadto go about 30 miles or so and he''d be back to the small town he''dgotten gasin last. He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but baseduponhow 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 arattlesnake. So,he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplicationlater, brings an umbrella he''d had in the back of the SUV with him togivehim a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his waterbottlein case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case hefinds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in thedirection he thinks is right. He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he''s really thirsty.He''sbeen sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He''sreapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, buthe stillfeels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle inhispocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it''s mainly waterand some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add somekind ofpoison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what thepoison is, andwhether 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 beenwalking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should beclose to thetown. But he doesn''t recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creekbed a mile or two back, and he doesn''t remember coming through it in theSUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that thedry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself thathe''s close, and that after dark he''ll start seeing the town lights over oneof these hills, and that''ll be all he needs. As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks andthings,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 standsbackup and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars. He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes aregummy and his mouth and nose feel like they''re full of sand. He sothirstythat he can''t even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was socold. He''d forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn''tnoticed itthe night before because he''d been in his car. He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three dayswithout water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people canmake ita little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and havingto walk and sweat isn''t the best situation to be without water. Hefigures, unless he finds water, this is his last day. He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. Hewaits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouthgoes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gonenumb? Is itjust inhis mind? He''s not sure. He''ll go a little farther, and if he stilldoesn''tfind water, he''ll try drinking some of the fluid. Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he gofrom here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming thathe still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He hasno idea what to do. Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows thedirection he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himselfsomewhat to the left of that, and starts walking. As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just acouple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little atfirst, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stopsweating he knows that means you''re in trouble - usually right before heatstroke. He decides that it''s time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can''twaitany longer - if he passes out, he''s dead. He stops in the shade of alargerock, takes the bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowlyswallows it, making it last as long as he can. It feels so good in hisdryand cracked throat that he doesn''t even care about the nasty taste. Hetakesanother mouthful, and makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half thebottle.He figures that since he''s drinking it, he might as well drink enough tomake some difference and keep himself from passing out. He''s quit worrying about the denaturing of the wiper fluid. If it killshim,it kills him - if he didn''t drink it, he''d die anyway. Besides, he''sprettysure that whatever substance they denature the fluid with is justdesigned to make you sick - their way of keeping winos from buying cheap wiperfluid for the ethanol content. He can handle throwing up, if it comes to that. He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills,dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water.Sometimes he''ll see a little movement to one side or the other, butwhatever moved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on it. Probablybirds, lizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move more at night.He''s careful to stay away from the movements. After a while, he begins to stagger. He''s not sure if it''s fatigue, heatstroke finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturingof the wiper fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself, andkeep going. After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is good!Heknows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV - he remembers doingdonuts in it. Or at least he thinks he remembers it - he''s getting woozyenough and tired enough that he''s not sure what he remembers any moreor ifhe''s hallucinating. But he thinks he remembers it. So he heads off intoit,trying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to thetown. He was heading for a town, wasn''t he? He thinks he was. He isn''t sureany more. He''s not even sure how long he''s been walking any more. Is itstill morning? Or has it moved into afternoon and the sun is going downagain? It must be afternoon - it seems like it''s been too long since he startedout. He walks through the sand. After a while, he comes to a big dune in the sand. This is bad. Hedoesn''tremember any dunes when driving over the sand in his SUV. Or at least hedoesn''t think he remembers any. This is bad. But, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. Hefiguresthat he''ll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see anythingfromthere that helps him find the town. He keeps going up the dune. Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second orthirdtime, and falls to his knees. He doesn''t feel like getting back up -he''lljust fall down again. So, he keeps going up the dune on his hand andknees. While crawling, if his throat weren''t so dry, he''d laugh. He''s finallygotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert - crawlingthroughthe sand on his hands and knees. If would be the perfect image, heimagines, if only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through thedesertin the cartoons always had ragged clothes. But his have lasted withoutanyrips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse halfburied in the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape-shake the sand out, and a good wash, and they''d be wearable again. Hewishes his throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it hurts. He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he''s at thetop,he struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All heseesis sand. Sand, and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he thinkshesees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him, moredunes, more sand. This isn''t where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Orclose enough. Again, he doesn''t know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of thewiperfluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle, and is removingthecap, when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in thesand. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees somethingstrange.It''s a flat area, in the sand. He stops taking the cap of the bottleoff, and tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular. And it''sdark -darker than the sand. And, there seems to be something in the middle ofit,but he can''t tell what it is. He looks as hard as he can, and still cantellfromhere. He''s going to have to go down there and look. He puts the bottle back in his pocket, and starts to stumble down thedune.After a few steps, he realizes that he''s in trouble - he''s not going tobe able to keep his balance. After a couple of more sliding, totteringsteps, he falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot when hisbody hits it that for a minute he thinks he''s caught fire on the way down -like a movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff,before it ever even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face with his hands, and waits to stop rolling. He stops, at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he findsenoughenergy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes.Whenhe clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the darkspotin the sand it still there and he hadn''t just imagined it. So, seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand is still there, hebeginsto crawl towards it. He''d get up and walk towards it, but he doesn''tseem tohave the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the finalstagesof dehydration he figures, as he crawls. If this place in the sanddoesn''thave water, he''ll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his lastchance. He gets closer and closer, but still can''t see what''s in the middle ofthedark area. His eyes won''t quite focus any more for some reason. Andliftinghis head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. Hejustkeeps crawling. Finally, he reaches the area he''d seen from the dune. It takes him aminute of crawling on it before he realizes that he''s no longer on sand - he''snow crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking onit - a pattern cut into the stone. He''s too tired to stand up and try to seewhat the pattern is - so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards thecenter,where his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the darkstonearea. His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands andknees are so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that thisdarkstone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sunoverhead, doesn''t seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considerslyingdown on the nice cool surface. Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He''sprobably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down anddying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon thebeautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and startgiving hima drink. Then he''ll know he''s gone. He decides against laying down on the cool stone. If he''s going to dieherein the middle of this hallucination, he at least wants to see what''s inthecenter before he goes. He keeps crawling. It''s the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes what he''shearing. He would swear that someone just said, "Greetings, traveler.You donot look well. Do you hear me?" He stops crawling. He tries to look up from where he is on his hands andknees, but it''s too much effort to lift his head. So he tries somethingdifferent - he leans back and tries to sit up on the stone. After a fewseconds, he catches his balance, avoids falling on his face, sits up,andtries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He rubs his eyes with the back of hishandsand tries again. Better this time. Yep. He can see. He''s sitting in the middle of a large, flat, darkexpanseof stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white postorpole about two inches in diameter and sticking up about four or fivefeetout of the stone, at an angle. And wrapped around this white rod, tail with rattle on it hovering andseeming to be ready to start rattling, is what must be a fifteen footlongdesert diamondback rattlesnake, looking directly at him. He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn''t have the energy to get upandrun away. He doesn''t even have the energy to crawl away. This is it, hisfinal resting place. No matter what happens, he''s not going to be abletomove from this spot. Well, at least dying of a bite from this monster should be quicker thandying of thirst. He''ll face his end like a man. He struggles to sit up alittle straighter. The snake keeps watching him. He lifts one hand andwavesit in the snake''s direction, feebly. The snake watches the hand for amoment, then goes back to watching the man, looking into his eyes. Hmmm. Maybe the snake had no interest in biting him? It hadn''t rattledyet -that was a good sign. Maybe he wasn''t going to die of snake bite afterall. He then remembers that he''d looked up when he''d reached the center herebecause he thought he''d heard a voice. He was still very woozy - he waslikely to pass out soon, the sun still beat down on him even though hewasnow on cool stone. He still didn''t have anything to drink. But maybe hehadactually heard a voice. This stone didn''t look natural. Nor did thatwhitepost sticking up out of the stone. Someone had to have built this. Maybethey were still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to him. Maybe thissnakewas even their pet, and that''s why it wasn''t biting. He tries to clear his throat to say, "Hello," but his throat is toodry. Allthat comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There is no way he''sgoingto be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his pocket, andthebottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls the bottleout,almost losing his balance and falling on his back in the process. Thisisn''tgood. He doesn''t have much time left, by his reckoning, before he passesout. He gets the lid off of the bottle, manages to get the bottle to hislips,and pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He sloshes it around, andthenswallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels better. Maybe he cantalknow. He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he turns to look around him, hopingtospot the owner of this place, and croaks out, "Hello? Is there anyonehere?" He hears, from his side, "Greetings. What is it that you want?" He turns his head, back towards the snake. That''s where the sound hadseemedto come from. The only thing he can think of is that there must be aspeaker, hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. Hedecidesto try asking for help. "Please," he croaks again, suddenly feeling dizzy, "I''d love to not bethirsty any more. I''ve been a long time without water. Can you help me?" Looking in the direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice wascoming from this time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, openitsmouth, and speak. He hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and hefalls forward, face first on the stone, "Very well. Coming up." A piercing pain shoots through his shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. Hesitsup and grabs his shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. He''smomentarilydisoriented as he looks around, and then he remembers - the crawlacross thesand, the dark area of stone, the snake. He sees the snake, stillwrappedaround the tilted white post, still looking at him. He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels slightlywet.He pulls his fingers away and looks at them - blood. He feels hisshoulderagain - his shirt has what feels like two holes in it - two punctureholes -they match up with the two aching spots of pain on his shoulder. He hadbeenbitten. By the snake. "It''ll feel better in a minute." He looks up - it''s the snake talking.Hehadn''t dreamed it. Suddenly he notices - he''s not dizzy any more. Andmoreimportantly, he''s not thirsty any more - at all! "Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in theafterlife?" "Sorry about that, but I had to bite you," says the snake. "That''s theway Iwork. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine." "You bit me to help me? Why aren''t I thirsty any more? Did you give me adrink before you bit me? How did I drink enough while unconscious tonot bethirsty any more? I haven''t had a drink for over two days. Well, exceptforthe windshield wiper fluid... hold it, how in the world does a snaketalk?Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?" "No," says the snake, "I''m real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. Ididn''t give you a drink. I bit you. That''s how it works - it''s what Ido. Ibite. I don''t have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water justsitting around here." The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he was, sitting in the middle ofthedesert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn''t, talking to asnake that could talk back and had just bitten him. And he felt better.Notgreat - he was still starving and exhausted, but much better - he was nolonger thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but only slightly. Hefelthot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and thecoolstone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that he was no longerdying of thirst. "I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in yoursystem with the next request," continued the snake. "I can guess why youdrank it, but I''m not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol wasleftin the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It''ll make you go blind in aday ortwo, if you drank enough of it." "Ummm, n-next request?" said the man. He put his hand back on hishurtingshoulder and backed away from the snake a little. "That''s the way it works. If you like, that is," explained the snake."Youget three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish." The snake grinnedat hisown joke, and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs. "But there are rules," the snake continued. "The first request is free.Thesecond requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the bindingofresponsibility." The snake looks at the man seriously. "By the way," the snake says suddenly, "my name is Nathan. Old Nathan,Samuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of theBoundused to just call me ''Snake''. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn''tstandfor it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was bigintonames. You can call me Nate, if you wish." Again, the snake grinned."Sorryif I don''t offer to shake, but I think you can understand - my shakesoundssomewhat threatening." The snake give his rattle a little shake. "Umm, my name is Jack," said the man, trying to absorb all of this."JackSamson. "Can I ask you a question?" Jack says suddenly. "What happened to thepoison...umm, in your bite. Why aren''t I dying now? How did you do that?What do you mean by that''s how you work?" "That''s more than one question," grins Nate. "But I''ll still try toanswerall of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question." The snake''s gringetswider. "Second, the poison is in you. It changed you. You now no longerneedto drink. That''s what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you askedto notbe thirsty any more - but ''any more'' is such a vague term. I decided tomakeit permanent - now, as long as you live, you shouldn''t need to drinkmuch atall. Your body will conserve water very efficiently. You should be abletoget enough just from the food you eat - much like a creature of thedesert.You''ve been changed. "For the third question," Nate continues, "you are still dying. Besidestheeffects of that methanol in your system, you''re a man - and men aremortal.In your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years.Assuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is." Nate seemed vastlyamused at his own humor, and continued his wide grin. "As for the fourth question," Nate said, looking more serious as far asJackcould tell, as Jack was just now working on his ability to readtalking-snake emotions from snake facial features, "first you have toagreeto make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can''ttellyou." "Wait," joked Jack, "isn''t this where you say you could tell me, butyou''dhave to kill me?" "I thought that was implied." Nate continued to look serious. "Ummm...yeah." Jack leaned back a little as he remembered again that hewastalking to a fifteen foot poisonous reptile with a reputation forhaving anasty temper. "So, what is this ''Bound by Secrecy'' stuff, and can youreallystop the effects of the methanol?" Jack thought for a second. "And,what doyou mean methanol, anyway? I thought these days they use ethanol inwiperfluid, and just denature it?" "They may, I don''t really know," said Nate. "I haven''t gotten out in awhile. Maybe they do. All I know is that I smell methanol on yourbreath andon that bottle in your pocket. And the blue color of the liquid when youpulled it out to drink some let me guess that it was wiper fluid. Iassumethat they still color wiper fluid blue?" "Yeah, they do," said Jack. "I figured," replied Nate. "As for being bound by secrecy - with thefulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothingabout me,this place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, whenyoudecide to go back out to your kind. You won''t be allowed to talk aboutme,write about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way thatwilllead someone to guess correctly about me. You''ll be bound to secrecy. Ofcourse, I''ll also ask you to promise not to give me away, and as I''mguessing that you''re a man of your word, you''ll never test the bindinganyway, so you won''t notice." Nate said the last part with utterconfidence. Jack, who had always prided himself on being a man of his word, felt alittle nervous at this. "Ummm, hey, Nate, who are you? How did you knowthat? Are you, umm, omniscient, or something?" Well, Jack," said Nate sadly, "I can''t tell you that, unless you makethesecond request." Nate looked away for a minute, then looked back. "Umm, well, ok," said Jack, "what is this about a second request? Whatcan Iask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?" "Sure!" said Nate, brightening. "You''re allowed to ask for changes.Changesto yourself. They''re like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, andbefore you ask, I can''t give you immortality. Or omniscience. Oromnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make yougaseousand yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphereandsort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be - you stillwouldn''t beomniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Notveryuseful, at least in my opinion." Nate stopped when he realized thatJack wasstaring at him. "Well, anyway," continued Nate, "I''d probably suggest giving youpermanentgood health. It would negate the methanol now in your system, you''d beimmune to most poisons and diseases, and you''d tend to live a very longtime, barring accident, of course. And you''ll even have a tendency torecover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good choice for arequest to me." "Cure the methanol poisoning, huh?" said Jack. "And keep me healthy foralong time? Hmmm. It doesn''t sound bad at that. And it has to be arequestabout a change to me? I can''t ask to be rich, right? Because that''s notreally a change to me?" "Right," nodded Nate. "Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?" Jack asked,hopefully. "That takes two requests, Jack." "Yeah, I figured so," said Jack. "But I could ask to be a genius? Icouldbecome the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?" "Well, I could make you very smart," admitted Nate, "but that wouldn''tnecessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could makeyouvery athletic, but it wouldn''t necessarily make you the best athleteeither.You''ve heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there''ssometruth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can''t make you workhard. Itall depends on what you decide to do with it." "Hmmm," said Jack. "Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request,after this one?" "Maybe," said Nate, "it depends on what you decide then. There are morerules for the third request that I can only tell you about after thesecondrequest. You know how it goes." Nate looked like he''d shrug, if he hadshoulders. "Ok, well, since I''d rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanenthealth doesn''t sound bad, then consider that my second request.Officially.Do I need to sign in blood or something?" "No," said Nate. "Just hold out your hand. Or heel." Nate grinned. "Orwhatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like Isaid,that''s how it works - the poison, you know," Nate said apologetically. Jack winced a little and felt his shoulder, where the last bite was.Hey, itdidn''t hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made Jack feelbetterabout the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteenfootsnake sunk it''s fangs into you. Jack stood up. Ignoring how good itfelt tobe able to stand again, and the hunger starting to gnaw at his stomach,Jacktried to decide where he wanted to get bitten. Despite knowing that itwouldn''t hurt for long, Jack knew that this wasn''t going to be easy. "Hey, Jack," Nate suddenly said, looking past Jack towards the dunesbehindhim, "is that someone else coming up over there?" Jack spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle ofnowhere? And did they bring food? Wait a minute, there was nobody over there. What was Nate... Jack let out a bellow as he felt two fangs sink into his rear end,throughhis jeans... Jack sat down carefully, favoring his more tender buttock. "I would havedecided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn''thave tohoodwink me like that." "I''ve been doing this a long time, Jack," said Nate, confidently. "Youhumans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you -especially one my size. And besides, admit it - it''s only been a coupleofminutes and it already doesn''t hurt any more, does it? That''s becauseof thehealth benefit with this one. I told you that you''d heal quickly now." "Yeah, well, still," said Jack, "it''s the principle of the thing. Andnobodylikes being bitten in the butt! Couldn''t you have gotten my calf orsomething instead?" "More meat in the typical human butt," replied Nate. "And less chanceyouaccidentally kick me or move at the last second." "Yeah, right. So, tell me all of these wonderful secrets that I nowqualifyto hear," answered Jack. "Ok," said Nate. "Do you want to ask questions first, or do you want metojust start talking?" "Just talk," said Jack. "I''ll sit here and try to not think about food." "We could go try to rustle up some food for you first, if you like,"answered Nate. "Hey! You didn''t tell me you had food around here, Nate!" Jack jumpedup."What do we have? Am I in walking distance to town? Or can you magicallywhip up food along with your other powers?" Jack was almost shoutingwithexcitement. His stomach had been growling for hours. "I was thinking more like I could flush something out of its hole andbiteit for you, and you could skin it and eat it. Assuming you have a knife,that is," replied Nate, with the grin that Jack was starting to getused to. "Ugh," said Jack, sitting back down. "I think I''ll pass. I can last alittlelonger before I get desperate enough to eat desert rat, or whateverelse itis you find out here. And there''s nothing to burn - I''d have to eat itraw.No thanks. Just talk." "Ok," replied Nate, still grinning. "But I''d better hurry, before youstartlooking at me as food. Nate reared back a little, looked around for a second, and thencontinued."You, Jack, are sitting in the middle of the Garden of Eden." Jack looked around at the sand and dunes and then looked back at Natesceptically. "Well, that''s the best I can figure it, anyway, Jack," said Nate."Stand upand look at the symbol on the rock here." Nate gestured around the darkstone they were both sitting on with his nose. Jack stood up and looked. Carved into the stone in a bas-relief was arepresentation of a large tree. The angled-pole that Nate was wrappedaroundwas coming out of the trunk of the tree, right below where the mainbranchesleft the truck to reach out across the stone. It was very well done - itlooked more like a tree had been reduced to almost two dimensions andembedded in the stone than it did like a carving. Jack walked around and looked at the details in the fading light of thesetting sun. He wished he''d looked at it while the sun was higher in thesky. Wait! The sun was setting! That meant he was going to have to spendanothernight out here! Arrrgh! Jack looked out across the desert for a little bit, and then came backandstood next to Nate. "In all the excitement, I almost forgot, Nate," saidJack. "Which way is it back to town? And how far? I''m eventually goingtohave to head back - I''m not sure I''ll be able to survive by eating rawdesert critters for long. And even if I can, I''m not sure I''ll want to." "It''s about 30 miles that way." Nate pointed, with the rattle on histailthis time. As far as Jack could tell, it was a direction at rightangles tothe way he''d been going when he was crawling here. "But that''s 30 milesbythe way the crow flies. It''s about 40 by the way a man walks. Youshould beable to do it in about half a day with your improved endurance, if youheadout early tomorrow, Jack." Jack looked out the way the snake had pointed for a few seconds more,andthen sat back down. It was getting dark. Not much he could do aboutheadingout right now. And besides, Nate was just about to get to theinterestingstuff. "Garden of Eden? As best as you can figure it?" "Well, yeah, as best as I and Samuel could figure it anyway," saidNate. "Hefigured that the story just got a little mixed up. You know, snake, in a''tree'', offering ''temptations'', making bargains. That kind stuff. But hecould never quite figure out how the Hebrews found out about this spotfromacross the ocean. He worried about that for a while." "Garden of Eden, hunh?" said Jack. "How long have you been here, Nate?" "No idea, really," replied Nate. "A long time. It never occurred to metocount years, until recently, and by then, of course, it was too late.But Ido remember when this whole place was green, so I figure it''s beenthousandsof years, at least." "So, are you the snake that tempted Eve?" said Jack. "Beats me," said Nate. "Maybe. I can''t remember if the first one of yourkind that I talked to was female or not, and I never got a name, but itcould have been. And I suppose she could have considered my offer tograntrequests a ''temptation'', though I''ve rarely had refusals." "Well, umm, how did you get here then? And why is that white pole stuckoutof the stone there?" asked Jack. "Dad left me here. Or, I assume it was my dad. It was another snake -muchbigger than I was back then. I remember talking to him, but I don''trememberif it was in a language, or just kind of understanding what he wanted.Butone day, he brought me to this stone, told me about it, and asked me todosomething for him. I talked it over with him for a while, then agreed.I''vebeen here ever since. "What is this place?" said Jack. "And what did he ask you to do?" "Well, you see this pole here, sticking out of the stone?" Nateloosened hiscoils around the tilted white pole and showed Jack where it descendedintothe stone. The pole was tilted at about a 45 degree angle and seemed toenter the stone in an eighteen inch slot cut into the stone. Jack leanedover and looked. The slot was dark and the pole went down into it asfar asJack could see in the dim light. Jack reached out to touch the pole, butNate was suddenly there in the way. "You can''t touch that yet, Jack," said Nate. "Why not?" asked Jack. "I haven''t explained it to you yet," replied Nate. "Well, it kinda looks like a lever or something," said Jack. "You''dpush itthat way, and it would move in the slot." "Yep, that''s what it is," replied Nate. "What does it do?" asked Jack. "End the world?" "Oh, no," said Nate. "Nothing that drastic. It just ends humanity. Icall it''The Lever of Doom''." For the last few words Nate had used a deeper,ringingvoice. He tried to look serious for a few seconds, and then gave up andgrinned. Jack was initially startled by Nate''s pronouncement, but when NategrinnedJack laughed. "Ha! You almost had me fooled for a second there. Whatdoes itreally do?" "Oh, it really ends humanity, like I said," smirked Nate. "I justthoughtthe voice I used was funny, didn''t you?" Nate continued to grin. "A lever to end humanity?" asked Jack. "What in the world is that for?Whywould anyone need to end humanity?" "Well," replied Nate, "I get the idea that maybe humanity was anexperiment.Or maybe the Big Guy just thought, that if humanity started going reallybad, there should be a way to end it. I''m not really sure. All I knowarethe rules, and the guesses that Samuel and I had about why it''s here. Ididn''t think to ask back when I started here." "Rules? What rules?" asked Jack. "The rules are that I can''t tell anybody about it or let them touch itunless they agree to be bound to secrecy by a bite. And that only onehumancan be bound in that way at a time. That''s it." explained Nate. Jack looked somewhat shocked. "You mean that I could pull the lever now?You''d let me end humanity?" "Yep," replied Nate, "if you want to." Nate looked at Jack carefully."Doyou want to, Jack?" "Umm, no." said Jack, stepping a little further back from the lever."Why inthe world would anyone want to end humanity? It''d take a psychotic towantthat! Or worse, a suicidal psychotic, because it would kill him too,wouldn''t it?" "Yep," replied Nate, "being as he''d be human too." "Has anyone ever seriously considered it?" asked Nate. "Any of thoseboundto secrecy, that is?" "Well, of course, I think they''ve all seriously considered it at onetime oranother. Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down andthink, or so I''m told. Samuel considered it several times. He''d oftengetdisgusted with humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for awhile.But he never pulled it. Or you wouldn''t be here." Nate grinned somemore. Jack sat down, well back from the lever. He looked thoughtful andpuzzled atthe same time. After a bit, he said, "So this makes me the Judge ofhumanity? I get to decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?" "That seems to be it," agreed Nate. "What kind of criteria do I use to decide?" said Jack. "How do I makethisdecision? Am I supposed to decide if they''re good? Or too many of themarebad? Or that they''re going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules forthat?" "Nope," replied Nate. "You pretty much just have to decide on your own.It''sup to you, however you want to decide it. I guess that you''re justsupposedto know." "But what if I get mad at someone? Or some girl dumps me and I feelhorrible? Couldn''t I make a mistake? How do I know that I won''t screwup?"protested Jack. Nate gave his kind of snake-like shrug again. "You don''t. You just havetotry your best, Jack." Jack sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was rapidlygetting dark, chewing on a fingernail. Suddenly, Jack turned around and looked at the snake. "Nate, was Samueltheone bound to this before me?" "Yep," replied Nate. "He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot. Taught metoread and brought me books. I think I still have a good pile of themburiedin the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a fewmonthsago." "Sounds like a good guy," agreed Jack. "How did he handle this, when youfirst told him. What did he do?" "Well," said Nate, "he sat down for a while, thought about it for abit, andthen asked me some questions, much like you''re doing." "What did he ask you, if you''re allowed to tell me?" asked Jack. "He asked me about the third request," replied Nate. "Aha!" It was Jack''s turn to grin. "And what did you tell him?" "I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the thirdrequestyou have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to thepointthat you really think that humanity should be ended, that you''ll comehereand end it. You won''t avoid it, and you won''t wimp out." Nate lookedseriousagain. "And you''ll be bound to do it too, Jack." "Hmmm." Jack looked back out into the darkness for a while. Nate watched him, waiting. "Nate," continued Jack, quietly, eventually. "What did Samuel ask forwithhis third request?" Nate sounded like he was grinning again as he replied, also quietly,"Wisdom, Jack. He asked for wisdom. As much as I could give him." "Ok," said Jack, suddenly, standing up and facing away from Nate, "giveitto me. Nate looked at Jack''s backside. "Give you what, Jack?" "Give me that wisdom. The same stuff that Samuel asked for. If it helpedhim, maybe it''ll help me too." Jack turned his head to look back overhisshoulder at Nate. "It did help him, right?" "He said it did," replied Nate. "But he seemed a little quieterafterward.Like he had a lot to think about." "Well, yeah, I can see that," said Jack. "So, give it to me." Jackturned toface away from Nate again, bent over slightly and tensed up. Nate watched Jack tense up with a little exasperation. If he bit Jacknow,Jack would likely jump out of his skin and maybe hurt them both. "You remember that you''ll be bound to destroy humanity if it ever lookslikeit needs it, right Jack?" asked Nate, shifting position. "Yeah, yeah, I got that," replied Jack, eyes squeezed tightly shut andbodytense, not noticing the change in direction of Nate''s voice. "And," continued Nate, from his new position, "do you remember thatyou''llturn bright purple, and grow big horns and extra eyes?" "Yeah, yeah...Hey, wait a minute!" said Jack, opening his eyes,straightening up and turning around. "Purple?!" He didn''t see Natethere.With the moonlight Jack could see that the lever extended up from itsslotin the rock without the snake wrapped around it. Jack heard, from behind him, Nate''s "Just Kidding!" right before hefelt thenow familiar piercing pain, this time in the other buttock. Jack sat on the edge of the dark stone in the rapidly cooling air, hisfeetextending out into the sand. He stared out into the darkness, listeningtothe wind stir the sand, occasionally rubbing his butt where he''d beenrecently bitten. Nate had left for a little while, had come back with adesert-rodent-shapedbulge somewhere in his middle, and was now wrapped back around thelever,his tongue flicking out into the desert night''s air the only sign thathewas still awake. Occasionally Jack, with his toes absentmindedly digging in the sandwhile hethought, would ask Nate a question without turning around. "Nate, do accidents count?" Nate lifted his head a little bit. "What do you mean, Jack?" Jack tilted his head back like he was looking at the stars. "You know,accidents. If I accidentally fall on the lever, without meaning to, doesthat still wipe out humanity?" "Yeah, I''m pretty sure it does, Jack. I''d suggest you be careful aboutthatif you start feeling wobbly," said Nate with some amusement. A little later - "Does it have to be me that pulls the lever?" askedJack. "That''s the rule, Jack. Nobody else can pull it," answered Nate. "No," Jack shook his head, "I meant does it have to be my hand? Could Ipullthe lever with a rope tied around it? Or push it with a stick? Or throwarock?" "Yes, those should work," replied Nate. "Though I''m not sure howcomplicatedyou could get. Samuel thought about trying to build some kind of remotecontrol for it once, but gave it up. Everything he''d build would begone bythe next sunrise, if it was touching the stone, or over it. I told himthatin the past others that had been bound had tried to bury the lever sotheywouldn''t be tempted to pull it, but every time the stones or sand orwhatever had disappeared." "Wow," said Jack, "Cool." Jack leaned back until only his elbows kepthimoff of the stone and looked up into the sky. "Nate, how long did Samuel live? One of his wishes was for health too,right?" asked Jack. "Yes," replied Nate, "it was. He lived 167 years, Jack." "Wow, 167 years. That''s almost 140 more years I''ll live if I live aslong.Do you know what he died of, Nate?" "He died of getting tired of living, Jack," Nate said, sounding somewhatsad. Jack turned his head to look at Nate in the starlight. Nate looked back. "Samuel knew he wasn''t going to be able to stay insociety. He figured that they''d eventually see him still alive and startquestioning it, so he decided that he''d have to disappear after awhile. Hefaked his death once, but changed his mind - he decided it was tooearly andhe could stay for a little longer. He wasn''t very fond of mankind, butheliked the attention. Most of the time, anyway. "His daughter and then his wife dying almost did him in though. Hedidn''tstay in society much longer after that. He eventually came out here tospendtime talking to me and thinking about pulling the lever. A few monthsago hetold me he''d had enough. It was his time." "And then he just died?" asked Jack. Nate shook his head a little. "He made his forth request, Jack. There''sonlyone thing you can ask for the fourth request. The last bite. After a bit Nate continued, "He told me that he was tired, that it washistime. He reassured me that someone new would show up soon, like theyalwayshad. After another pause, Nate finished, "Samuel''s body disappeared off thestonewith the sunrise." Jack lay back down and looked at the sky, leaving Nate alone with hismemories. It was a long time until Jack''s breathing evened out intosleep. Jack woke with the sunrise the next morning. He was a little chilledwiththe morning desert air, but overall was feeling pretty good. Well,exceptthat his stomach was grumbling and he wasn''t willing to eat raw desertrat. So, after getting directions to town from Nate, making sure he knew howtoget back, and reassuring Nate that he''d be back soon, Jack started thelongwalk back to town. With his new health and Nate''s good directions, hemadeit back easily. Jack caught a bus back to the city, and showed up for work the next day,little worse for the wear and with a story about getting lost in thedesertand walking back out. Within a couple of days Jack had talked a friendwitha tow truck into going back out into the desert with him to fetch theSUV.They found it after a couple of hours of searching and towed it backwithoutincident. Jack was careful not to even look in the direction of Nate''slever, though their path back didn''t come within sight of it. Before the next weekend, Jack had gone to a couple of stores, includingabook store, and had gotten his SUV back from the mechanic, with awarning toavoid any more joyriding in the desert. On Saturday, Jack headed backto seeNate. Jack parked a little way out of the small town near Nate, loaded up hisnewbackpack with camping gear and the things he was bringing for Nate, andthenstarted walking. He figured that walking would leave the least trail,and heknew that while not many people camped in the desert, it wasn''t unheardof,and shouldn''t really raise suspicions. Jack had brought more books for Nate - recent books, magazines,newspapers.Some things that would catch Nate up with what was happening in theworld,others that were just good books to read. He spent the weekend withNate,and then headed out again, telling Nate that he''d be back again soon,butthat he had things to do first. Over four months later Jack was back to see Nate again. This time hebroughta laptop with him - a specially modified laptop. It had a solarrecharger,special filters and seals to keep out the sand, a satellite link-up,and aspecial keyboard and joystick that Jack hoped that a fifteen-footrattlesnake would be able to use. And, it had been hacked to not giveoutits location to the satellite. After that Jack could e-mail Nate to keep in touch, but still visitedhimfairly regularly - at least once or twice a year. After the first year, Jack quit his job. For some reason, with thewisdom he''d been given, and the knowledge that he could live for over 150 years,working in a nine to five job for someone else didn''t seem thatworthwhileany more. Jack went back to school. Eventually, Jack started writing. Perhaps because of the wisdom, orperhapsbecause of his new perspective, he wrote well. People liked what hewrote,and he became well known for it. After a time, Jack bought an RV andstartedtraveling around the country for book signings and readings. But, he still remembered to drop by and visit Nate occasionally. On one of the visits Nate seemed quieter than usual. Not that Nate hadbeena fountain of joy lately. Jack''s best guess was that Nate was stillmissingSamuel, and though Jack had tried, he still hadn''t been able to replaceSamuel in Nate''s eyes. Nate had been getting quieter each visit. But onthisvisit Nate didn''t even speak when Jack walked up to the lever. Henodded atJack, and then went back to staring into the desert. Jack, respectingNate''ssilence, sat down and waited. After a few minutes, Nate spoke. "Jack, I have someone to introduce youto." Jack looked surprised. "Someone to introduce me to?" Jack lookedaround, and then looked carefully back at Nate. "This something to do with the BigGuy? "No, no," replied Nate. "This is more personal. I want you to meet myson."Nate looked over at the nearest sand dune. "Sammy!" Jack watched as a four foot long desert rattlesnake crawled from behindthedune and up to the stone base of the lever. "Yo, Jack," said the new, much smaller snake. "Yo, Sammy" replied Jack. Jack looked at Nate. "Named after Samuel, Iassume?" Nate nodded. "Jack, I''ve got a favor to ask you. Could you show Sammyaroundfor me?" Nate unwrapped himself from the lever and slithered over to theedge of the stone and looked across the sands. "When Samuel first toldmeabout the world, and brought me books and pictures, I wished that Icould go see it. I wanted to see the great forests, the canyons, the cities,even theother deserts, to see if they felt and smelled the same. I want my sontohave that chance - to see the world. Before he becomes bound here like I have been. "He''s seen it in pictures, over the computer that you brought me. But Ihear that it''s not the same. That being there is different. I want him tohavethat. Think you can do that for me, Jack?" Jack nodded. This was obviously very important to Nate, so Jack didn''tevenjoke about taking a talking rattlesnake out to see the world. "Yeah, Icando that for you, Nate. Is that all you need?" Jack could sense that wassomething more. Nate looked at Sammy. Sammy looked back at Nate for a second and thensaid,"Oh, yeah. Ummm, I''ve gotta go pack. Back in a little bit Jack. Nice tomeetya!" Sammy slithered back over the dune and out of sight. Nate watched Sammy disappear and then looked back at Jack. "Jack, thisis myfirst son. My first offspring through all the years. You don''t evenwant toknow what it took for me to find a mate." Nate grinned to himself. "Butanyway, I had a son for a reason. I''m tired. I''m ready for it to beover. Ineeded a replacement." Jack considered this for a minute. "So, you''re ready to come see theworld,and you wanted him to watch the lever while you were gone?" Nate shook his head. "No, Jack - you''re a better guesser than that.You''vealready figured out - I''m bound here - there''s only one way for me toleavehere. And I''m ready. It''s my time to die." Jack looked more closely at Nate. He could tell Nate had thought aboutthis - probably for quite a while. Jack had trouble imagining what itwouldbe like to be as old as Nate, but Jack could already tell that inanotherhundred or two hundred years, he might be getting tired of life himself.Jack could understand Samuel''s decision, and now Nate''s. So, all Jacksaidwas, "What do you want me to do?" Nate nodded. "Thanks, Jack. I only want two things. One - show Sammyaroundthe world - let him get his fill of it, until he''s ready to come backhereand take over. Two - give me the fourth request. "I can''t just decide to die, not any more than you can. I won''t evendie ofold age like you eventually will, even though it''ll be a long time fromnow.I need to be killed. Once Sammy is back here, ready to take over, I''llbeable to die. And I need you to kill me. "I''ve even thought about how. Poisons and other drugs won''t work on me.AndI''ve seen pictures of snakes that were shot - some of them live fordays, sothat''s out too. So, I want you to bring back a sword. Nate turned away to look back to the dune that Sammy had gone behind."I''dsay an axe, but that''s somewhat undignified - putting my head on thegroundor a chopping block like that. No, I like a sword. A time-honored way ofgoing out. A dignified way to die. And, most importantly, it shouldwork,even on me. "You willing to do that for me, Jack?" Nate turned back to look at Jack. "Yeah, Nate," replied Jack solemnly, "I think I can handle that." Nate nodded. "Good!" He turned back toward the dune and shouted, "Sammy!Jack''s about ready to leave!" Then quietly, "Thanks, Jack." Jack didn''t have anything to say to that, so he waited for Sammy tomake itback to the lever, nodded to him, nodded a final time to Nate, and thenheaded into the desert with Sammy following.Over the next several years Sammy and Jack kept in touch with Natethroughe-mail as they went about their adventures. They made a goal of visitingevery country in the world, and did a respectable job of it. Sammy had anatural gift for languages, as Jack expected he would, and even ended upacting as a translator for Jack in a few of the countries. Jack managedtokeep the talking rattlesnake hidden, even so, and by the time they werenearing the end of their tour of countries, Sammy had only been spottedafew times. While there were several people that had seen enough tostartlethem greatly, nobody had enough evidence to prove anything, and while afewwild rumors and storied followed Jack and Sammy around, nothing everhit thenewspapers or the public in general. When they finished the tour of countries, Jack suggested that they trysomeundersea diving. They did. And spelunking. They did that too. Sammyfinallydrew the line at visiting Antarctica. He''d come to realize that Jack wasstalling. After talking to his Dad about it over e-mail, he figured outthatJack probably didn''t want to have to kill Nate. Nate told Sammy thathumanscould be squeamish about killing friends and acquaintances. So, Sammy eventually put his tail down (as he didn''t have a foot) andtoldJack that it was time - he was ready to go back and take up his dutiesfromhis dad. Jack, delayed it a little more by insisting that they go backtoJapan and buy an appropriate sword. He even stretched it a little morebygetting lessons in how to use the sword. But, eventually, he''d learnedasmuch as he was likely to without dedicating his life to it, and wasdefinitely competent enough to take the head off of a snake. It wastime tohead back and see Nate. When they got back to the US, Jack got the old RV out of storage whereheand Sammy had left it after their tour of the fifty states, he loaded upSammy and the sword, and they headed for the desert. When they got to the small town that Jack had been trying to find thoseyears ago when he''d met Nate, Jack was in a funk. He didn''t really feellikewalking all of the way out there. Not only that, but he''d forgotten tofigure the travel time correctly, and it was late afternoon. They''deitherhave to spend the night in town and walk out tomorrow, or walk in thedark. As Jack was afraid that if he waited one more night he might lose hisresolve, he decided that he''d go ahead and drive the RV out there. Itwasonly going to be this once, and Jack would go back and cover the tracksafterward. They ought to be able to make it out there by nightfall iftheydrove, and then they could get it over tonight. Jack told Sammy to e-mail Nate that they were coming as he drove out ofsight of the town on the road. They then pulled off the road and headedoutinto the desert. Everything went well, until they got to the sand dunes. Jack had beennursing the RV along the whole time, over the rocks, through the creekbeds,revving the engine the few times they almost got stuck. When they cametothe dunes, Jack didn''t really think about it, he just downshifted andheadedup the first one. By the third dune, Jack started to regret that he''ddecided to try driving on the sand. The RV was fishtailling and losingtraction. Jack was having to work it up each dune slowly and was tryingtokeep from losing control each time they came over the top and slid downtheother side. Sammy had come up to sit in the passenger seat, coiled upandlaughing at Jack''s driving. As they came over the top of the fourth dune, the biggest one yet, Jacksawthat this was the final dune - the stone, the lever, and somewhere Nate,waited below. Jack put on the brakes, but he''d gone a little too far.The RVstarted slipping down the other side. Jack tried turning the wheel, but he didn''t have enough traction. Hepumpedthe brakes - no response. They started sliding down the hill, faster andfaster. Jack felt a shock go through him as he suddenly realized that they wereheading for the lever. He looked down - the RV was directly on courseforit. If Jack didn''t do something, the RV would hit it. He was about toendhumanity. Jack steered more frantically, trying to get traction. It still wasn''tworking. The dune was too steep, and the sand too loose. In a splitsecond,Jack realized that his only chance would be once he hit the stonearound thelever - he should have traction on the stone for just a second beforehe hitthe lever - he wouldn''t have time to stop, but he should be able tosteeraway. Jack took a better grip on the steering wheel and tried to turn the RV alittle bit - every little bit would help. He''d have to time his turnjustright. The RV got to the bottom of the dune, sliding at an amazing speed in thesand. Just before they reached the stone Jack looked across it to checkthatthey were still heading for the lever. They were. But Jack noticedsomethingelse that he hadn''t seen from the top of the dune. Nate wasn''t wrappedaround the lever. He was off to the side of the lever, but still on thestone, waiting for them. The problem was, he was waiting on the sameside ofthe lever that Jack had picked to steer towards to avoid the lever. TheRVwas already starting to drift that way a little in its mad rush acrossthesand and there was no way that Jack was going to be able to go aroundthelever to the other side. Jack had an instant of realization. He was either going to have to hitthelever, or run over Nate. He glanced over at Sammy and saw that Sammyrealized the same thing. Jack took a firmer grip on the steering wheel as the RV ran up on thestone.Shouting to Sammy as he pulled the steering wheel, "BETTER NATE THANLEVER," he ran over the snake. THE END * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * PLEASE READ: This joke was also a personality profile test... It was the subject of a recent Educational Psychology Master''s Thesis,soon to be published, which investigated the way that someone responds to awebpage such as this correlates to certain personalitytendencies. Theresearch confirmed a statistically significant correlation whichstrongly suggests a dependably predictive positive relationship betweenhow a person responds to this page and certain aspects of his or herpsychological profile. Thus, it is called the Personality Profile AssessmentTest Hypothesis. While the actual results looked at severalcomplex factors, and depended heavily on questionnaires filled out byvolunteers upon completion of their experience, I will simplify theresults by discussing three main groups and their profiles. While theseprofiles may not be exactly fitting of each person within each group,they do strongly suggest a statistically significant likelihood ofprofile similarity. 11% of those who see this page taketheir time, enjoying the joke as they read it, enjoying the build up tothe punch line, and even if the punch line itself wasn’tparticularlyhumorous, they tended to enjoy the process. 56% beginscroll down to the punch line either before starting to read the jokeor within a short period of time- usually 20 seconds or less. The vastmajority of this group choose not to read the joke. 33% readat least 1/3 of the joke, with the intention of reading it all, butthen begin to question their decision and the investment of time theyare making. They go back and forth between deciding to continuing or toskip to the end (this vacillating may be unconscious at the time, andhappen in a matter of moments). The vast majority in this group give upbefore finishing ½ of the joke, and scroll to the end. People inthe first group, who read the entire joke, tend to enjoy the journey oflife, and take their time as they move towards a goal. When traveling,they tend to thoroughly enjoy the process, and are not uptight orstressed about single-mindedly getting to their destination. They alsotend to be very attentive, patient and long lasting lovers, and enjoyintimacy and physical connectivity whether or not it is carried tocompletion. Those in the second group, who scroll to the endbefore reading more than a few sentences of the joke, tend to avoidsurprises and the unknown. They prefer to have a regular schedule andnot to step out of their routine. They tend to be efficient, but areoften lacking in enjoyment, spontaneity and passion. They tend to beless patient and more interested in the destination than the journey.When on a trip, they tend to focus on getting where they are going,rather than enjoying the process. During intimacy, they tend to not beable to enjoy it unless they are certain it will be taken tocompletion. The idea of just “playingaround” a while, engaging inphysical intimacy without the promise of full completion is, ratherthan simply enjoyable and connective, considered to be“cruel” and a“teasing” and is met with resentment. Thisgroup’s ability to enjoydepends largely on their need to know what is going to happen. Theytend to be more self-focused lovers, and tend not to last very long insatisfying the other partner if their own satisfaction has happened oris within easy reach. The third group, who decided not toread the entire joke after reading a third or more of it, tend to becommitment-phobic and lack the ability to move forward to completionwhen things become challenging. They are often procrastinators andfrequently give up on tasks when they become more difficult. They tendto prefer to have big dreams than act on them in the real, challengingworld. A significantly higher percentage of this group had Cesareanbirth, and may not have had the benefit of that early experience ofstruggle and effort being rewarded with accomplishment. This grouptends to not take big vacations which would take more effort to planand implement, and tends to stay close to home or even stay home duringtime off. Promotions and career moves which are within reach but stillrequire some effort and focus are frequently not fully tried for,although the perception will be they were passed up. Inintimaterelationships, this group tends to start out romantic and passionate,but it quickly fades and is replaced by lackadaisicalness andindifference, characterized in part by a sense of feeling it is notworth the effort to continue having a passionate, energized andcomplete experience during intimacy. There is a tendency to“peter out”both in intimacy and in other aspects of life, and to take the easierroad, even if it leads to a less fulfilling life. * * * * Disclaimer: Thissummary of the thesis results is not intended in any way to offeradvice or therapy, nor is it intended to infer anything about whetheranyone reading this page does or does not fit the personality profilesdescribed. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Chelmsford Canary 0 Posted February 17, 2009 [quote user="hogesar"]Not sure about bigger, but certainly longer:The Longest Joke in the World* * *Lost in the Desert[/quote]More of a short story than a joke!! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
hogesar 9,676 Posted February 17, 2009 [quote user="Colchester Canary"][quote user="hogesar"]Not sure about bigger, but certainly longer:The Longest Joke in the World* * *Lost in the Desert[/quote]More of a short story than a joke!![/quote]Isn''t it just! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
WeAreYellows49 0 Posted February 18, 2009 [quote user="hogesar"][quote user="Colchester Canary"][quote user="hogesar"]Not sure about bigger, but certainly longer:The Longest Joke in the World* * *Lost in the Desert[/quote]More of a short story than a joke!![/quote]Isn''t it just![/quote]lol blimey that was a whopper Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
nutty nigel 7,536 Posted February 18, 2009 [quote user="WeAreYellows49"][quote user="hogesar"][quote user="Colchester Canary"][quote user="hogesar"]Not sure about bigger, but certainly longer:The Longest Joke in the World* * *Lost in the Desert[/quote]More of a short story than a joke!![/quote]Isn''t it just![/quote]lol blimey that was a whopper[/quote]Where have I heard that before [;)] Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
WeAreYellows49 0 Posted February 18, 2009 [quote user="nutty nigel"][quote user="WeAreYellows49"][quote user="hogesar"][quote user="Colchester Canary"][quote user="hogesar"]Not sure about bigger, but certainly longer:The Longest Joke in the World* * *Lost in the Desert[/quote]More of a short story than a joke!![/quote]Isn''t it just![/quote]lol blimey that was a whopper[/quote]Where have I heard that before [;)] [/quote]lol dunno you tell me hehehe [:D] Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
nutty nigel 7,536 Posted February 18, 2009 Mad Madge and his wife are lying in bed listening to the next door neighbour''s dog.The dog has been in the backyard barking for hours and hours. Madge jumps up out of bed and says, ''I''ve had enough of this''He goes downstairs.When he finally comes back up to bed and his wife says, ''The dog is still barking, what have you been doing?''Madge says, ''I''ve put the dog in our backyard, let''s see how they like it.'' Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
WeAreYellows49 0 Posted February 18, 2009 lol very good NN [:)] A Son asks his Dad the difference between "theoretically" and "realistically". Dad says "that''s hard, but I have an idea. Ask Mum if she would sleep with the milkman for one million pounds". Mum says "yes". Dad says "Now ask your sister if she''ll sleep with the coalman for two million pounds". Sister says "Yes". "Well there you go Son, that''s your answer, theoretically we''re sitting on three million pounds, but realistically we''re living with two slags Share this post Link to post Share on other sites