The following message was found written on a series of large leaves stuffed into a bottle that washed up on the beach in Northern California on December 8th, 2013:
Day 1: My attempt to travel across the Pacific Ocean in a canoe has ended in dismal failure. After a severe storm knocked me out of my vessel, I have washed up on a deserted island somewhere in the tropics. To keep my wits about me while I wait for rescue, I will begin this log of my time here on the island.
Day 2: I am so terribly terribly bored. I killed and ate a monkey about an hour ago, and while that was pretty fun and tasty I'm beginning to regret my actions. Perhaps I should have kept the monkey alive for companionship? I could have trained him to open coconuts for me, or at the very least satisfy my sexual desires. Now the other monkeys won't come anywhere near me, and I don't know what I am going to do!
Days 3-6: Unreadable due to water damage.
Day 7: Today I completed construction of the playing surface for Island Hockey. I found a flat area of sand well above the tide-line and removed all the rocks, sticks, and shells. Tomorrow I'll start weaving some twigs together to make the goals.
Day 8: The goals are complete! The sticks too! I was lucky enough to find some long branches on a tree deep in the interior of the island that made perfect hockey sticks. It took quite a bit of work to break them off, and the monkeys were screeching at me something awful the whole time, but I did it! The Island Hockey season should be off and running in no time!
Day 9-12: Unreadable due to water damage.
Day 13: It's all ended in disaster! I never should have taught the monkeys how to play Island Hockey! They learned too well! Midway through the first period one grabbed me from behind, threw me to the sand, and just started punching me in the face over and over again. Eventually I blacked out, and now I'm awake but I can't see out of my left eye. My feet are gone. The bastards ate my feet! I probably won't survive much longer, so I'm going to stuff these notes into a bottle and throw it into the sea.
I don't want to die for nothing. My legacy needs to live on.
Here are the rules for Island Hockey:
Unreadable due to blood stains.
They say no man is an island, but I know what I saw out there. Islandman is real.— Ceej (@ceejoyner) June 12, 2013
Video Gamery: My 52nd-favorite video game is XCOM: Enemy Unknown. It's cool as hell but really hard. The first time I played it I named all my soldier guys after Sharks players but then it was just depressing as every single one of them died horrible deaths. By the time I finally gave up on that particular play-through I was lamenting the death of guys like Alyn McCauley.
It was horrible.