Today, I am pretending to be on a deserted island in the Caribbean. It is bright, sunny and I have an amble supply of booze.
There are no children there. There are no shitty parents there either. I have a stack of books–and comics–to read. Shannon’s there, but she’s busy working on an art project using coconuts, driftwood and discarded shellfish.
I need a name for my tropical hide away….
I’m glad I get to be there!
Torteya beat me to it.
I asked people at work if they knew of any convenient deserted tropical islands, because I’d decided to secede from the human race.
I wanted my computer, electricity and internet. Maybe I’d take up surfing.
Serena, was that a pun?
I’m pleading the Fifth…
…It was, but entirely unintentional.