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It is only our second full day at sea and Ewan has already ordered me to swab the poop deck at least four times. Is this an indication of things to come? How will I ever survive married life? There's simply no pleasing him. I swabbed it with a mop and he told me to use my toothbrush. I swabbed it with my toothbrush, and he demanded I use my tongue. "That's it....nice and clean..." I think I have a Charlie horse. I have to get to bed.
I couldn't write yesterday because I spent all day swabbing the poop deck. He was so frustrated with my efforts I was afraid he might order me to walk the plank. Thankfully there aren't often sharks spotted in the Med.
I'm afraid this will be hard to read and transcribe, as I'm writing it on my last million lyra note in a Turkish prison. In a desparate act of rebellion, I ran Captain Ewan's boxers up a flag pole on a nearby Island. It seems that the Turks frown on foreign flags. I thought the boat full of German tourists was saluting, but apparently they were trying to warn me of the approaching coast guard boat. If you can read this, send help.
Date Written: July 08, 2002
Author: Jimson S. Sorghum
Average Vote: 3.1667