In the year 1998, an expedition lead by scientists from the British Museum in London discovered a preserved diary in a sunken trireme off the coast of Crete in the Mediterranean Sea. This diary was bound by a strange type of leather that was later found to be human skin. Arcane runes covered its front and back, puzzling the scientists who desired to open the diary’s lock without damaging it. One unlucky soul came close to solving the puzzle, but whatever secrets he discovered drove him mad and he committed suicide before he work was complete. The diary sent to the storage vaults of the museum, hidden from the outside world, all but forgotten. Until now.
A man by the name of Jacob Fredrickson worked tirelessly on decoding the runes once the diary was brought back to London. Finally, in the spring of 2005, he completed his life's work and unlocked the diary from its mystical bonds. In the process he was incinerated by a curse that was unleashed when he opened the cover. By the way of his sacrifice, we are now able to read from it and learn from its wisdom. That man was my uncle, and being his only heir, the diary has come into my possession, along with a huge bill for phone sex. I will share with you now the contents of what was discovered that stormy day on the Mediterranean Sea. The thoughts and feelings of film legend Ernest Borgnine will be heard for the first time, here on the Internet for the world to read. With this, I hope we will gain some insight into the importance of this great man, and the value of this extraordinary discovery.
Tuesday, June 6th"I was hooked on reds in the 50's and would attack crew members and bite the heads off shrews if I didn't get my fix."
Dear Diary, I can't find my goddamn pair of socks anywhere! I swear to God that every time I wash them and hang them on the window to dry, some dirty little beast or bird is making off with them. This is the 8th pair I've lost this summer, and I'm plum out. Right now I have bagel wrappers covering my feet and lashed to my ankles with twine. Sure, it does the job, but I have to endure the whispers and chuckles from the neighbors when I take out the garbage. Some brat even threw a rotten apple core at me and sped away in his blasted tricycle contraption before I could catch him. Where's the respect?
Friday, June 9th
I have been labelled many things in my lifetime, but nothing as hurtful as being called a Communist by the senate house committee in the 50's. I want to state for the record once again, in case this is found by aliens or ape men millions of years from now, that I am not, and have never been, a member of the Communist party. Sure I once read one of their stupid pamphlets, started to dress in plain brown clothes, and refused to go to banks and oil the gears of the capitalist machine. Just because I won't play into the hands of the Jewish puppet masters, and drink vodka for breakfast, that doesn't make me a Communist! Я чувствую власть(мощь) красной армии и духа курса Сталина отца через мой viens! Мы сокрушим свиньи перед нами подобно legos!
Saturday, June 10th
Dear Diary, what's the deal with these newfangled Velcro shoes that all the kids are wearing these days? When I was a kid we had to wear turtle shells and we didn't have any fancypants space Velcro to keep them on. No, it was held together by the pus oozing from the blisters on the bottoms of our feet. This world is getting too complicated for old Ernest. Soon we'll have flying cars and even Negro voters. Not that there is anything wrong with that. I think cars going through the sky would be pretty neat.
Wednesday, June 14th
I have a crush! Her name is Belladonna is she lives in the community center. I bumped into her while walking to the shuffleboard court and she fell down and broke her spine. I felt really awful about it so I've been taking care of her ever since she doesn't have any insurance. I called an ambulance when it happened, and they loaded her in and started to drive off, but once they realized she had no coverage they opened the back doors and flung her body out on the side of the road like a rag doll and sped off. It’s a disgrace. This is not what we fought the krauts and Japs for in WW2! Anyway I've been keeping her on my couch and reading her stories and feeding her pudding. She is only awake once and a while but when she is I can tell she's in a lot of pain because she sounds like a dolphin. I love her so and I will spend every waking moment nursing this beautiful woman back to health.
Thursday, June 15th
Dear Diary, she died. I think maybe I gave her too much pudding. She wasn't swallowing it and it all kind of just puddled up in her throat, mouth, and nose. I am so very sad. I buried her in the backyard with the other bodies.
Saturday, June 17th"I love country music, but I can't line dance to save my life."
Sooooo boooooored! There is nothing to do around here, and it is hot! The AC is still broke and I'm just sitting on my Laz-E-Boy in the sweltering heat wearing only my boxer shorts and orthopedic boots. I'm pretty sure that my skin is grafted to this leather chair now cause I can't get up. I had to make water and it's pretty embarrassing but I had to go right here and let it pool on the ground and evaporate naturally, the way God intended. My leg itches. I'm trying to scratch it with the remote but I can't reach. I should buy a helper monkey.
Monday, June 19th
I took the plunge and bought a monkey. It shits everywhere and has a terrible temper, but its nice to have company. I mainly wanted it to scratch my back and legs where the remote control can't reach, but the little bastard has some claws on it and cut me pretty badly. A few hours later I started sweating, more than usual, and had a hard time breathing, I've been trying to get some rest and eat some pudding to fight off whatever virus this monkey gave me. I should've known better to buy one from the swarthy sailors down by the produce docks. I lost my sense of taste so this pudding is terrible. Maybe I can get a refund.
Wednesday, September 2nd
Dear Diary, long time no see! I was in this coma for a while from the monkey scratch. I guess it had some crazy rare African virus that is highly contagious and deadly. I was quarantined at a military base and couldn't see anybody for months except the nice scientist men in the big white plastic suits. They said that it was very lucky for them that I'm a shut in (their words), so I had no contact with anybody, or the virus probably would've killed 75% of the world's population. What a crazy summer!
Thursday, September 3rd
I'm really depressed today. I had a lot of fun at the military base because everybody was paying a lot of attention to me and sticking me with needles and putting things in my rear. Now I'm so very lonely here in my apartment again. I haven't been this alone since I was stuck in that foxhole with a POW that couldn't speak English and was missing his head. There is nothing to do and I miss my true love, Belladonna. I wrote a poem that expressed the emotions I am feeling at this moment.
Epithets of my soul
Like I'm lost in a dream.
My slumber drags on-
Time swirls away
Rushing down the drain
Of never ending terror.
They've come to finish
I think I'm gonna go masturbate.
Sunday, September 6th"I really need a new wardrobe."
Dear Diary, I've had a revelation. I have still been really bummed out the past couple days and I even tried climbing a tree and jumping off, but I couldn't get past the first branch. I was in the bathroom and eating a can of cheez-wiz when I passed out, probably from all the aerosol. I hit my noggin on the side of the sink and everything went black. I thought this was the end of ole Ernest. But then the blackness cleared and I saw a vision of a beautiful naked angel riding a unicorn towards me. She dismounted and then approached me, gently taking off my clothes. She then spoke in a harmonious voice, saying, "Ernest, don't be so hard on yourself. You are God's beautiful butterfly." She covered my body with baby oil and scented cloves, and made sweet love to me. It was wonderful. Oh yeah, she was also Asian and had big hooters. I think that's probably cause I got a thing for Asian women. Maybe it’s the fact that they don't talk a lot and have those tiny feet that are as cute as a bug's ear. Also I visited a brothel a lot during the war when I could afford it, but I trust them as far as I can throw them. That's about 7 feet.
Monday, September 7th
Know what really steams my clams? These over-the-counter moisturizers that claim to be 100% more moist than other leading brands, but evaporate after 5 minutes of rubbing. Now don't go thinking I'm no queer or nothing cause I use moisturizer. Sure, there is that story about how I got really drunk with Charles Bronson on the set of the Dirty Dozen and made out, but that was just a fluke and we both laughed it off later during a game of pool. No, I only use moisturizer because in the Fall my knees get so goddamn dry that when I walk the skin cracks open and makes terrible noises, like sitting on a bag of chips. I have to rub lotion on them every hour but even then they still rub together like cricket legs if I move. I hope I live long enough to see this dry skin epidemic cured by scientists, or at least get me a pair of new fancy robot legs.
Thursday, September 10th
I can't find my keys. I've been drinking this rubbing alcohol because I couldn't drive to the party store but now my vision is all blurry and its making it harder to find them and I got in fight with a lamp. I think the monkey hid them. I'll strangle that sonofabitch if I can catch him.
Friday, September 25th
Praise Jesus! I just got off the phone with my agent and he told me that I got a part in a new whimsical movie called "Merlin's Shop of Mystical Wonders". I was really hoping that I would get to play the part of Merlin, but instead I am playing the part of the grandfather telling the tale to his grandson. Still an important part, and I have the most lines in the movie! Its just nice to be working again. I sure hope that the craft services have salami sandwiches on the set. Those are my favorite! Three cheers for Hollywood and three cheers for salami sandwiches!
Sometime between now in the future, Threeve
What a nightmare! The movie is over and I'm done with this acting business. The kid who played my grandson was a little primadonna and bit the tip of my nose off. They didn't even have any salami sandwiches, only ketchup packets mixed with sawdust. I'm sick of the whole thing and I think I'll be going away for a while, maybe forever. I've been building a Greek trireme in my basement over the last couple years, thanks to a Spartan hoplite warrior spirit who visited me after I fell in the shower and busted my hip. I think I'm gonna sail it to the island of Crete where the Minotaur lives and manufacture olive oil. I also got a few black magic books so I can put a hex on this diary. I don't want any punk kid getting a hold of this and then posting it on the Internet so the fat nerds can laugh at me. Not gonna happen to this cowboy! Borgnine out.
That was the last recorded entry in the diary found under the murky depths of the Mediterranean Sea. Now that this knowledge has come to light, archeologists suspect that Ernest Borgnine did in fact sail his trireme to the coast of Crete. There, an unknown event caused his ship to wreck, probably a rough storm. Most suspect that Ernest met his end in this event, drowning along with his ship, but the lack of a skeleton in the wreckage doesn't support his theory. Some say that Ernest Borgnine made it to the shore of Crete, and now roams the endless catacombs of the labyrinth, feasting on the blood of virgins sent there for sacrifice. We may never know, but one thing is for sure, he was a great man and will always be remembered.
Dedicated to Ermes Effron Borgnine, 1917-???
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