I, Frank Rudd Bybee, master of me...er fate... now write the Journal

Somewhere on BIG water. 1897.

Let it be known to all, that I, Frank Rudd Bybee, the writer of The Journal of Rudd, have thrown this other fellow, Jack, overboard. An' that he be now shark-food, jus’ as Bart say.

For I have now assumed control of this er… blog thingy. My Journal continues. Writers need to write. I ain’t  writing. I ain’t also not a writer. I jus' keep a record of how I be caught and thrown on board this tub. That bastard's name be Kelly… Blunko Kelly. Well, it be me sketches as well. I like sketching. These be my sketches. Come back sometime soon. Right now, we be heading for someplace called Chile. Valpariso, Chile. So Bart say.

Bart he say, he can’t find Rippens. Everyone on ship to search for Rippens. Black and white, and furry – with long black tail. I see Bart’s eyes twinkle. He not be human. Rippens, he be a cat. Rippens is the ship’s cat! Soon, he become my friend.

An’ who is not my friend no more. Ha. Who is not?! No more silly writer stuff.  For I now be a man, after I run away from the farm in Ioway and Pa’s whipping. I am now a man – I be 17 years old. Cheeze! That be old.

Come back to read me blog soon.

--FRB.