Mesquite Flat. Scotty’s Castle Road. I’ve got my thumb out in a sand storm. Cant even see Stovepipe. Not much traffic.

I’ve just come out of an unusual and beautiful remote canyon in the Grapevine Mountains called Titanothere, named after a feeble minded dinosaur, an ancestor of the modern day rhinoceros. Some guy found its bones in there.

I spent the night up there, with the sagebrush and Mormon Tea, at five thousand feet.

I got pummeled by a freezing wind. It was so cold I didn’t watch star tv, instead I hid my head. For eleven hours I cowboy camped, wrapped so tight in a quilt my arms went numb and my elbows creaked when I unraveled them in the morning.

That wind beat me up all the way to the road.

The second car pulls over and I jump in the back next to a sweet 88 year old woman with pink frames, “Hi I’m Pinky” she says. “Do you like jokes?”

A woman walks into an accountant’s office and tells him that she needs to file her taxes. 

The accountant says, “Before we begin, I’ll need to ask you a few questions.”He gets her name, address, social security number, etc. and then asks,”What’s your occupation?” 

“I’m a Lady of the night,” she says. 

The accountant is somewhat taken aback and says, ” Let’s try to rephrase that.” 

The woman says, “OK, I’m a high-end call girl”. 

“No, that still won’t work. Try again.” 

They both think for a minute; then the woman says, “I’m an elite chicken farmer.” 

The accountant asks, “What does chicken farming have to do with being a prostitute?” 

“Well, I raised a thousand little peckers last year.”


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