As we delve deeper and deeper into the Grinsell Archives, we find that nothing is as it seems. Rights are Ringos, Lefts are Louies, and people brush their teeth while drinking orange juice. It’s a mad mad mad mad world. Still really dark too, the interior decorator had no idea what to do with all this negative space. Boo.
Do you remember that one uncle you didn’t know you had? No. Of course you don’t you silly goose. That doesn’t make any sense at all. However! You definitely remembered him when he kicked the bucket and left you a bunch of stuff you didn’t even know you needed, like exotic animals, exotic money, and sunscreen. Initially, this may overwhelm you, as you have no place to put such exotic things, but your uncle wouldn’t leave you hanging!
The dude left you an island. Yeah. An island.
Now that you have your own little sandy outpost in the tropics, you are the coolest dude in school. If you are a girl, you are still the coolest dude in school. It’s just simply how the island thing works. Deal with it, or don’t own an island. You’re going to go with the island, and we all know it. With great tropical retreat comes great tropical responsibility. You’re going to need island rules if you want to avoid a Castaway-Lord of the Flies situation every other Thursday.
Which brings me to another classic WTFwaah Guide to Life and Living: My Rules for My Own Tropical Island.
1. If and When a death occurs, we will not immediately mourn, but celebrate the life that our fallen friend experienced. Fireworks, speed boats, Froot Loops, and tiki parties will commence as soon as the news is spread.
Following the death celebration, we will have a life memorial, where we all reminisce on the good times we had together, and the deceased is shot out of a cannon.
2. There will be weekly water wars set up something like this.
Each person will get a pair of the American Gladiator Q-Tip batons with which to do battle. The winning team gets a dinner prepared by the losing team, and the losing team gets a house party hosted by the winning team. We’re all winners. Isn’t that nice?
3. The main source of transportation around the island will be the Pokémon Snap car.
Logically, the Island will be full of Pokémon, roaming free enjoying the sunshine with their human companions. Only Safari balls please, as we want to preserve the beauty of Pokémon/Human camaraderie! Seeing as how Pokémon Snap was the most out-of-the-blue amazing Pokémon game, it seems only right that we honor its legacy in our sunshine wonderland.
Girl Scout cookies are a year round dessert option. When I say they are a dessert option, I mean the cookies are to be devoured with reckless abandon anytime your heart desires half a box of Tag-a-longs or Thin Mints. Okay, a whole box. Who the heck eats only half a box? The eating guidelines for Girl Scout cookies stick to the rule of threes: Eat a box now, save a box to be eaten tomorrow night, and freeze a box to eat during the Girl Scout famine.
Sidenote: Girl Scouts are the perfect example of American capitalism and a supply/demand relationship. The mark-up on those things has to be at least 8000%.
5. Education is free and freeform. Simply because student loans suck, 400 person lectures suck, and in this country we all share the pain.
Subjects to be taught get voted upon by the island’s population, then the most respectable teaching guy in that field of study gets flown out for a crash course.
6. Happy catacombs. That’s right, fun indoors and underground is possible if the sun is not your best friend. Catacombs get a bad rap cuz they are usually all haunted by some thousand year old curse, but I’m talking about an entire underground paradise where every room is full of whatever strikes your fancy. Ball pit bath-tubs, koala hugging rooms, and places for the best of the best family vacations. Basically, if you can dream it, we can do it. The catacombs are where your dreams are no longer dreams, but realities. Minus the whole “creepy labyrinth of tombs” thing.
7. Billy Mays. He never died, he just went home. That beard cannot be defeated. This version of Billy Mays is done taking calls and selling detergent. He organizes an all-island paintball game on the first Wednesday of every month. Those tornado sirens you hear are actually Billy’s hair follicles shouting their war cry. The teams are: Billy Mays in Blue, everyone else who’s going to lose in Red. But he’s a good sport about it.
So there it is! There could easily be another twelve points, but perhaps those will be saved for another day. And since you were all wondering, the name of my island is: Moderation, Because everything is better in moderation.
Happiness will abound in Moderation, Sexy people roam free in Moderation, and No tears will be shed in Moderation, unless you are someone who was given an all-powerful, all-knowing island that warps time and space, knowing your every thought and carefully watches over you, and you still manage to screw it up, causing anger and riots from the most loyal television fanbase ever.