Mighty dry out west

Out in the west the old timers still like to sit around on the top rail of the corral fence “one uppin” each other, spittin’ and arguing.

“I wish it’d rain. Not for me, for my boy. Me I’ve seen rain.”

“You tellin’ me? “Been so dry I had to irrigate my spread just to get it back to dust.”

“That ain’t nothin’. It was so hot the other day I seen a coyote chasin’ a chicken, and they was both walkin’.”

“You think that’s hot and dry?   A friend of mine was hiking in the desert. He stirred up a rattle snake. The critter sprung up ignored his leg, and took a bite out of his canteen.

“The Cocklebur Riding Club is talking about tradin’ their horses in for camels.”

“Shorty Rogers threw away his ten gallon hat. Got a two quart model.”

“I hear the Forest Service is putting up new signs at Lake Powell and Lake Mead on the Colorado River. They say Puddle Powell and Puddle Mead.”

“My brother-in-law took his family to see the Shoshone Falls on the Snake River in Idaho. They had to bring their own water.”

“Used to be water was liquid gold out here. No more. Now every raindrop’s a diamond.”

“Ol Caleb is workin’ his still up in the hills. Only now he’s mixin’ hydrogen and oxygen. Tryin’ to make rain.”

“Good luck on that one. Here’s the deal. The Bible says people got wicked in Noah’s day and the Almighty sent a flood. Me and the boys figure we’ll get a little wicked, just enough to get some rain.”

“You’re bad enough already, and it ain’t workin’.”

“I heard the Baptists have given up immersion and gone to sprinklin’. The Methodists are usin’ a wet rag. The Mormons ain’t prayin’ for rain anymore; just a heavy dew”

It is so dry that those old boys on the top rail of the corral fence are just arguing. They gave up spittin’.