It's like walking on a 1970 blaze orange shag carpet in a kitchen.
The irony here is we're looking for water and we're looking out for water. Without it you die, and with too much of it you die.
I feel like a tick on a dog.
I feel like an hors deurve waiting to happen.
You're my depth gauge. If I see your hat floatin', I'll stop.
We need to look for water. Water, water, water, water.