FIRE IN A HOLE, HIKING IN THE SNOW

Check this diary of known Antarctic Explorer, Shackleton.

Day IVXLLMC

My childhood companion, Billy Stickers, has become seriously wounded in a fistfight we had in our tent. I didn't want to hurt him but he has been dropping so many L-Bombs on me, like a gooey-eyed "hey when are we going to marry, Shackleton", it's just not the place for it. I'll admit the atmosphere in these cramped surroundings has been pretty fucking romantic. Even I, Shackleton, have felt crazy aroused at certain points. But if Billy Stickers continues with this shit I might possibly give up on my mission to find the Magnet of the South.

I am starting to wish I had just gone to Torremolinos.


Day VLLMCXI

I, Shackleton, and Billy Stickers have been discussing names for our new babies. Here is our list:

BOY NAMES

Ice Cold Derek
Frombert
Terry Latino, PhD

GIRL NAMES

I Wish You Were A Boy
Alan
Terry Latino, PhD


Day KLXXMIC

I straight up ate B. Stickers because we ran out of food. I sure hope nobody finds this signed confession.


Signed,
Shackleton.


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"One summer, I watched a group of caterpillar eating a birch tree right outside my door. I thought a pair of them would make a perfect mustache. It was a difficult photo shoot, since they kept trying to crawl up my nose and also had trouble sticking to my face. Applying honey to my upper lip (my mother's suggestion) helped a great deal. Crossdressing, as an act that is generally thought of as highly unnatural act, transpires here using entirely natural materials."


Self-Portrait as Sir Ernest Shackleton
C-print, 6 x 8 inches, 2002

I JACKED ALL TRADES AND MASTERED ONE OF FOUR ELEMENTS

So, I had almost an unlimited level of success with my previous work for Childs and thought to do another one right now. Who are you to stop me, with your statute book.

THE STORY OF ADVENTUROUS WALRUS
or, "All's Well That Ends Well"

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Once upon a time there lived a leathery Walrus, his name was probably Jor-El or something. Unlike the other timid as shit Walruses, Jor-El had a longing for adventure. Watching all his friends sit around eating hoary old chestnuts, AGAIN, Jor-El formed an idea in the back of his mind: let's swim to Fiji.

Background: Fiji is usually off-limits for Walrus-kind. It's extremely hot there and Walruses left unattended will fuck up and explode. They just aren't designed for it (the heat). You can imagine what it would look like if heaps of Walruses exploded at once - not good.

Jor-El decided that he would coat himself in a revolutionary 'Cold Solution' that he got off Scientists. He proceeded to swim to Fiji, ignoring his parents and friends who gave him some pretty big stern looks.

Once in Fiji, Jor-El started a reasonably successful newspaper, reporting on issues of the day with insight and aplomb. To this day he pens a society column detailing events and gossip among the elite of Fiji, few of whom are aware of his origins and the fact that there is a big fucking Walrus in their midst.

Jor-El can be contacted for further information on +679 739 0210 or by emailing jor-el@fiji.com.