We're Having a Search Party (B.Y.O.B.)

Abandon ship. It's sinking. Everybody overboard. Into the drink you go. Come on Frankie, jump! Don' be scared.

"Do not forsake me, oh my darling. On this our wedding day."

Okay, then come over here and put Johnny into a lifeboat. She knows that you would never desert her, but you only have two choices, jump or go down with the ship. It's one hell of a mess we got ourselves into this time.

"Frankie and Johnny were sweet hearts."

Me and Elvis are going to leave behind all our baggage once that helicopter lands on deck to rescue us. There's only room for the two of us and our wives. Elvis will fly us to some island. He's going to buy the helicopter from the pilot for thirty million dollars. And if the wives don't show up soon, we'll have to take two other women with us.

I would throw you a life line, Frankie, but a lot of good that will do, considering there won't be anything attached to the other end of it. What a cruel joke life has played on us. After all is said and done, it comes to this. Shark food. Where is Leonardo DiCaprio when you need him. Oh well, he was no good to rose anyway. The cheating bastards. Where do they get off running around like a couple of kids in love for the first time? Jilt me once - shame on you. Jilt me twice and I'll kick your ass. Lets go Elvis, grab the girls we're out of here.

I don't mean to run out on these other passengers, but what am I supposed to do. It's every man for himself. So, we have to leave 'em flat. There's no two ways about it. I don't want to turn my back on anybody, but I can't save the world. That's too big of a job, it's shot through and through.

"Should I stay or should I go? If I leave there will be trouble. If I stay there will be double..." And the band played on.

Give them the deep six, and we're gone. Into the wild blue yonder. Leave all our cares behind and head for the tropics. Just me, you, and a dog named Boo. And that woman sitting over there. And Elvis. We'll get along just fine running along the beach eating pineapples and drinking coconut milk. At night we'll lay around the campfire staring out at the hypnotic waves as they roll in. And ignore any dead bodies that might float ashore.

Paradise is funny that way. You get seventy-two virgins, but they're only virgins the first time. After that, if virgins are your cup of tea, you have to go back and blow yourself up again.

"Look at you, girl, in your cut-off jeans. You look hot. Your tan is absolutely gorgeous. Hey Elvis, get a load of this."

Now what? We've got Elvis without a guitar. And a John Lennon CD without a CD player. If I was ungrateful, I'd say we were living a life of neglect. I'd complain about fates decision to ostracize us to this beautiful paradise surrounded by warm, blue ocean.

I have everything I need here, yet I still want to depart this place. I'll take her with me, and sure, Elvis can come too. But I want to leave now. I want other people in my life. They're all out there somewhere. Some in lifeboats but most under the water. They quit living. Go figure. Can't live without water, can't live in it. I have to go away from here. I have to go away from me. I'm depressing myself with my thoughts. No matter where I go, there I am. I can't vacate myself. Maybe I can evacuate my head through meditation. Perhaps peace of mind is under that seashell over there.

"Since my baby left me, I found a new place to dwell..."

I suppose I can discard any thought and replace it with a healthier one. But it's hard, man. All this "awareness" stuff. You think it's easy to just cast off every negative thought that shows up on parade. That's a jettison easier said than done. It's all head games, baby. Shrink your head. Shrink your ego. Next thing you know, you're a Foreigner in your own mind. "Hey, who are you?" "I'm you." "Well if you're me, then I must be you."

"I am you and you are me and we are all together. See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they run. I'm crying."

Throw away paradise. Get rid of heaven. Toss out bliss. Give up pleasure. Retire from being. Withdraw your six senses. End all knowing. Discontinue your existence. Cease everything. "Imagine all the people..." Gone. Stop consciousness. Forever.

Good bye, Elvis.