Let me get this straight. They will pay me a little over $100,000 in order to play on their island? Hmmmm. Clearly the strenuous duties of sunbathing and frolicking are worth that, but I’m missing the catch. As it stands, I do believe I’ve found one of my two or three personal fantasy jobs, so I believe I’ll be getting a plane very soon.
At last a chance to truthfully yell, “You! Off my island”.
The thought of it alone makes me all tingly. It can not be a truly primitive island because you are supposed to do on camera work and web blogging—hello, internet! I already blog, and usually that’s from a place far less glorious than the one pictured there.
Frankly, I giggle at the downside—relatively few people.
Do typhoons hit this island? Is that it? Is there some sort of bomb testing going on next door? Because otherwise, I can’t figure out how there is anything bad about this. Oooooh, unless they don’t have satellite TV, then I can see how that would be a struggle. Also, Dominoes probably doesn’t deliver quite that far. While that’s a shame, it’s not really a deal breaker.
So, it’s been real. I’ll send you a postcard.
What do you mean they might not pick me? How could they not pick me? I mean, I promise not to wear a bikini on camera.
Off to buy more sunscreen.
Uh… you don’t think there is a smoke monster on this island like there is on “Lost”, do you?
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