Yeah Ticat, what they call surviving, we call camping!
Castaway's Post Here
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Very true, MyBills, but you still don't have the Canadian I want.
There's not a stone in my heart I've left unturned
Not a piece of my soul that I ain't searched
The only answer I found for all this hurt
Is there ain't not answer here on earth
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I was just stopping by to say hi. I'll leave now.
There's not a stone in my heart I've left unturned
Not a piece of my soul that I ain't searched
The only answer I found for all this hurt
Is there ain't not answer here on earth
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Hi Thurm! Grab a beer & make yourself at home! The sun is shining, the water's perfect, and the beer is cold!
Meeting at the campfire tonight:
Why is _____ still in the contest?I didn't come here to fight, I hate fighting. Life is way too short to spend it on fighting! Go fight with yourself, one of you will eventually win!
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OK, so there's no cigars. We couldn't find a desk either, but we got BillC the next best thing....
a...
I didn't come here to fight, I hate fighting. Life is way too short to spend it on fighting! Go fight with yourself, one of you will eventually win!
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oh yeah, um, I'll be over here drinking my beer!Attached FilesI didn't come here to fight, I hate fighting. Life is way too short to spend it on fighting! Go fight with yourself, one of you will eventually win!
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On a quiet, desert island, the sounds of helicopters were heard in the distance. The thumping of the rotors got louder and louder, waking the 5 losers from their hammocks and slumber.
The noise grew to a deafening roar as 4 Blackhawk choppers swooped in over the once tranquil beach. The rotor wash blew over grass huts, knocked over tents and umbrellas, and sand blew everywhere- into the pizza, beer, and suntan oil. Repelling by ropes from the four Blackhawks was an Army Ranger platoon.
In camouflage, face paint, and battle fatigues- holding assault rifles high, they tore through the camp. Knocking over coolers, emptying trash cans, scouting the tree tops for a possible threat. 3 Secret Service agents, dressed in black suits and sunglasses gave the “all clear” signal into a tiny microphone hidden in their lapel.
As quickly as they arrived, the swarm loaded onto the choppers and hauled ass out of there. Seconds later, Marine One, the helicopter bearing the seal of the office of the President of the United States, touched down on top of the rubble of what was once the grass hut off northernbillfan.
The three Secret Service agents assumed their positions around the door of the helicpter……..it opened and a tall, well tanned (and might I say, very handsome man for his age) figure emerged- wearing a loud floral print shirt, a straw hat, pleated shorts, Ray Bans, and sandals- white zinc powder on his nose- ……
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