“What do you mean I’m broke? Look at all the great companies that I have stock in– JC Penney, Pan Am, Howard Johnson. Heck, I even bought a cutting edge technology start-up called Blackberry.”
Funny, but I don’t remember mailing in any ballots, much less ten thousand for that nitwit Biden.
Gilligan? Oh, the young lad who died from natural causes just before we finally escaped that island. Never heard of him.
Being due east of the border naturally the wall eventually bisected the island, and then Trump lands and rescues us in the northern half, end of story.
Over time clothing became entirely optional for the men. The second day there the women moved in together and hired Gilligan as their cabana boy. He was like a god to us. An omnipotent, insatiable god. So we killed him and swam 1,800 miles to the mainland to escape the shrieking harpies that vowed eternal vengeance.
What would Thurston J. Howell say if he was returned to America today? Or any of the castaways, for that matter?
“Lovey, what is this nonsense?”
Send me back to the island.
“I say, Biden, old boy! Didn’t I buy you back in 1964? You certainly look old enough!
“What do you mean I’m broke? Look at all the great companies that I have stock in– JC Penney, Pan Am, Howard Johnson. Heck, I even bought a cutting edge technology start-up called Blackberry.”
“No, I don’t think it was karma for making those Michael Rockefeller jokes.”
“Gee Lil buddy, what do you say we head on back to the island like ASAP?
What would Thurston J. Howell say if he was returned to America today? Or any of the castaways, for that matter?
Mary Ann: “Suck it Ginger, everyone likes me better.”
Woo-Hoo, Cat fight!
“Couldn’t we have waited until Spring?”
“I owe how much in taxes?”
“I’m 107 years old. Which means in 18 years, I’ll be part of the 125-200 year demographic that Biden won 100% of. Depressing.”
Kids now, it’s like they are all trying to revolt without any true objective.
Funny, but I don’t remember mailing in any ballots, much less ten thousand for that nitwit Biden.
Gilligan? Oh, the young lad who died from natural causes just before we finally escaped that island. Never heard of him.
Being due east of the border naturally the wall eventually bisected the island, and then Trump lands and rescues us in the northern half, end of story.
Over time clothing became entirely optional for the men. The second day there the women moved in together and hired Gilligan as their cabana boy. He was like a god to us. An omnipotent, insatiable god. So we killed him and swam 1,800 miles to the mainland to escape the shrieking harpies that vowed eternal vengeance.