In an effort to keep our community safe, peaceful, and not a complete bummer, please adhere to these new guidelines. It all comes down to consideration, guys!
Quiet time begins at 11 p.m. Keep all audible chatting, weeping, and groaning to a minimum.
Don’t leave your dirty utensils or dishes lying around as they smell bad and attract insects. Let’s keep our cramped space super clean.
Some of us aren’t fully caught up on all the seasons of all the shows, and would request that everyone show the proper respect for spoilers in conversations on board.
In spite of some very reasonable objections, we’re apparently sticking to The Moby Dicks as our boat’s group name. The logo looks great, but we would still ask the group to reconsider the spelling—“Dix” would be more pan-gender-inclusive.
Re: bathroom etiquette—some of us have asked repeatedly to not engage in long-distance peeing competitions off the side of the boat because a.) eww and b.) this game encourages individual showmanship rather than group success. There are better uses of our dwindling energy and shriveling enthusiasm through mindful team-building exercises, such as sing-a-longs, shouting for help, and using our one paddle to row endlessly in circles.
Public displays of affection are making people uncomfortable.
Water is not to be wasted, folks! Having done the math, we have rationed exactly one sip of water per person per day. (NO water is to be used for shaving, shampooing, or wound care.) In addition to one sip of water, we will each receive one Clif Bar bite per day. If you don’t eat it right away, please label your Clif Bar fragment—and seriously, people, don’t be dicks and eat another’s fragments.
While some people seem willing to eat pretty much whatever they can get their hands on (moldy beef jerky, dead fish, live birds), we ask you to forewarn the vegetarians on board out of respect for their food choices. Same goes for consuming each other.
And while we’re on the subject of cannibalism, we would like to hereby establish that Tim is not to get one single scrap of Liz. He totally used her when they were dating, called her overweight all the time, and no fucking way should he get to appreciate her body when it suddenly benefits him. So hands the fuck off Liz, okay, Tim?
Some of us would like to ban all discussions of appearances, even if the message is to compliment one another on being thin AF. Let’s just stick to healthy topics, like general gossip about each other, the weather, our impending doom.
After our discussion of pronoun usage, Keith will be addressed as The Pirate Formerly Known as Keith. (Respect each other’s journeys, please.)
While many of us are clinging to God, the atheists feel they are being disrespected. Let’s keep our praying either personal or in very small groups. Remember though—God can’t hear you.
Finally, starting at daybreak, we’re going to row this motherfucking boat without stopping, in hopes of catching the last day of spring break in Grand Cayman, or die trying. Seriously, people, we’re all going to die. Kidding. Not kidding.
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Rumpus original art by Claire Stringer.
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