“So you accept my gender-fluid identity?” Skipper: “I accept you’re a terrible first mate. Now eat your pronoun-friendly seaweed stew.”
The Transition-o-Matic 3000 washes ashore next to a mermaid who winks and adjusts their shell-top. Mermaid: “Next season, maybe.”
They gather around the campfire. Skipper: (back to his usual self) “Alright, here’s the deal. You’re you. He, she, they, coconut – I don’t care. But when I say ‘hoist the sail,’ you hoist the damn sail.”
No phones, no lights, no motor cars, Not a single binary binary… But we’ve got trans joy and silly puns, And Gilligan’s nonbinary diary…
“So you accept my gender-fluid identity?” Skipper: “I accept you’re a terrible first mate. Now eat your pronoun-friendly seaweed stew.”
The Transition-o-Matic 3000 washes ashore next to a mermaid who winks and adjusts their shell-top. Mermaid: “Next season, maybe.”
They gather around the campfire. Skipper: (back to his usual self) “Alright, here’s the deal. You’re you. He, she, they, coconut – I don’t care. But when I say ‘hoist the sail,’ you hoist the damn sail.”
No phones, no lights, no motor cars, Not a single binary binary… But we’ve got trans joy and silly puns, And Gilligan’s nonbinary diary…
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