SBC Survivor Journal -- I'm Your Chum

Dear Diary.

I haven't updated you, dear diary, in two weeks--due to the fact that I've been hiding out from the others. As you know, our last task was to create a model of the island...preferably life-sized, according to Jeckles. Being of a contrary nature (and plus because it was easier), I made mine as small as possible. Rule #5 of the Shitty Blogs Club: Expend as little effort as possible.
So technically, I followed the rules.

But then that dirty mean stupid rat bastid my dear friend and SBC El Presidente, Jeckles, smacked me down with this:



I've lost my Survivor Champ title. *sob*

I know that if I survive the sharks then I will set Jeckles' truck on fire Jeckles had a tough decision to make and apparently the sexual favors didn't work and I might smother him in his sleep because all three of our entries were AWESOME but of course he was picking on me.

So that's why I've been hiding out here on Survivor Island, using Chad's old trench, because I don't want to be shark bait.
But they've found me.
Dammit.
I have to swim for it.
Wish me luck.

Love,
Me

and PS: Good luck to the Final Two, Rose and Nat!!

PPS: You'll be sorry. You'll all be VERY, VERY SORRY.