Could somebody PLEASE get me a helicopter, pick me up on the roof of my office building (watch out for the guys sealing the flat roof with steaming hot something or other—thought it was supposed to be hot-hot tar, but looks like—and smells like—hot, hot Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup—maybe Willy Wonka’s in town??)—-Anyway, pick me up in the helicopter and motor forth to this sailboat and drop me therein—Work is getting to me and I need an alternative location to soothe my savaged brain cells—and this looks like just the spot to do that….Oh, and by the way, DO NOT come and pick me up…..Just let me mellow out there & fade into non-existence (some call it “retirement”—I prefer “non-existence”—then I don’t have to worry about my 401k, Medicare, my cousin’s kids’ college debts—which I foolishly co-signed onto, judgmental retirees who have more money because they were oh-so-smart or oh-so-lucky-inheritance-wise or just oh-so, etc., etc.)…..Just leave me in peace….I’m sure I can survive for a few years on coconuts and fishing with a sharp stick!


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