Hello Dear readers. I am sure that upon my sudden absence many of you were thinking "Hey, what's for dinner?". Well, I am here to tell you that it has been a very busy month… very busy indeed. I have decided to bring you up to speed on what has been happening in the interim... that way if you ever see me it will be as if you and I were very close!
So without further adieu, here is a log of what I did in the last month. This log will be served to you conveniently via a web host. A "blog", if you will...
- August 28th - Year of Our Lord Twenty aught Eight
Jenkins is dead, taken in the night by the thing. Wimootuk, our faithful guide... dead as well. In his last moments I glimpsed the halting, staccato and horrifying images of brave Wimootuk plunging his ritual dagger again and again into the beasts scarlet, sanguineous chest.
In my panic I had dared to dream that the blood was that of the beast and that Wimootuk had, through sheer savage will, saved us from the horror. But my dream was short lived as I saw what was at the creatures feet. Alsas it was poor Jenkins, torn asunder just as the rest, his freezing eyes staring into me, darkly accusing me for beginning this damn fool expedition.
It wasn't long before the beast had separated poor Wimootuk's head from his fur adorned shoulders, and with a viscously satisfied glance at me it leaped back into the all concealing blizzard, leaving me to stare into Jenkins eyes as the blizzard again and mercifully blanketed our bloody folly with a fresh white canvas onto which I shall soon contribute a final crimson coat..
- August 29th - Year of Our Lord Twenty Aught Eighth
The winds are rising with renewed vigor. I fear that even absent the beast I now hear pacing outside that the wind will be enough to tear my sanctuary asunder and toss me into the blinding, blistering snow. If I had only listened to the Moohaskut Tribesman and turned back, I might have my life... but the dream of reward too great, the wanderlust too strong to be restrained.
I am the architect of my own demise.. so perfectly built that it is now my greatest desire.
The beast will strike within a few hours. It is good... it is merciful. My future subsistence, had I survived, would consist of picking at the long dead rats gathered by Wimootuk these many days ago... or resorting to the unthinkable, an ungodly customer and consumer of meats carved by a brutal butcher.
I still have a handful of ammunition for the Winchester. May my aim be more true than Sebastian, the insufferable prick.
August 30th - Year of Our Lord Twenty Aught Eight
LOL!1 I POWNZ teh beats & I r resqd!11
August 31st - Year of Our Lord Twenty Aught Eight
Life aboard ship is rather monotonous. I'm totally bored. I wish Jenkins was alive to play cards with. We used to have sooo much fun making fun of Wimootuk's backwardness. I wish he was alive too so I could laugh again.
September 1st, 2008
Well, I will be taking a break dear diary, as I have not much more to add.
Oh, and I found a cool new easy way to write the date!
September 14th, 2008
Will wonders never cease? This ship of men has a woman! She is a cagey fast talking news woman from New York. Oh how I love her biting wit. I think that tonight I shall regale her with all the best jokes I made up about the dead Wimootuk!
September 14th, 2008 PM
Oh woe, I never had a chance to speak at dinner. That stupid actor man was too busy wooing Ms. Mastersonen for me to get a word in wedge-wise.
Well who needs them!! I will make my own way! After all, I have you, dear friend and diary, to speak to!
Like one time, me and Jenkins were outside the tent and I said "Hey Wimootuk! Is that your sacrificial knife, or is there a walrus about?". Me and Jenkins laughed and laughed. I don't think Wimootuk got the joke. Anyway, I know you do, dear diary.
September 26th, 2008
Gently rolling sea, black and deep
I stare into your life giving emptiness
I yearn for my eternal sleep
I cut myself to feel alive.
I hate girls.
September 31th, 2008
I am feeling a lot better now. I think the news that we are a few mere weeks out of port has renewed my vigor! My mental clouds have lifted. I am a new man! I will no longer run from my internal demons, I will face up to this life I have been given, and those choices I have made to form it for good and evil. I shall return to the life I had before my fool’s errand, before the dark times, the blood times. I shall live in full, wiser for my memories of the catastrophe.
I can not wait to return to my town, meet with my old friends and regale dear Jenkins with my harrowing tales of near death and that poor backward savage from which I drew so much enjoyment.
I'm sure Jenkins will... I... I mean Jenkins..
Shit, wait...
October 2nd, 2008
My realizations of yesterday will not bring me down. After all, I am a few weeks from port, Ms. Mastersonen and the Actor are out of the picture... what with that stop at that mysterous island and a healthy dose of the Captain Barbers hubris, and that extended siege of the ship by cannibalistic Hunti tribesmen. I guess they were rather annoyed with us taking the prehistoric beast into our ships hold....
Anyway, we left Ms. Mastersonen and the actor in all the din of excitement. I'd tell you all about it, but it's really not that interesting.
October 14th, 2008
Seriously, who opened the goddam hold? It is by sheer miracle that I survived and piloted the boat to shore. It's just not a terribly interesting miracle.
Anyway, I'm home!! Woot! I hope Tivo was recording "Fringe"!
October 15th, 2008 AM
Alas, it would appear I hath lost power, and I have broken my surley bonds with pop culture. There will be no "Fringe" marathon.
Some say I am lucky to be alive... but now I am not so sure.
Post Script: You are having meat loaf for dinner.
