December 37, 1932
My voyage begins on the Ukranian Steam Ship, the Plotnik. On the first day, I met our captain. A diminutive, if stern fellow, by the name of Agamon Destroyer of Life. His constant companion was a mute who went by the name of Piffles. (Though he also answered to “Ahoy Gregor you great walloping pederast.”)
We set sail from Kiev, a week before I left Paris. The sea breeze! The flying monkeys of the Ukraine. Ah, it was a dream come true.
Next Time: Buster Keaton’s Inner Ear
About the Photographer: Toulouse Le Grandfig was a surrealist painter, photographer, writer, and a tremendous watchtower, glistening in the fetid fields of the mind. He ate truffles, magnets and things that made him feel “squingy.” Also, he was a parakeet.
I like Piffles. What a character.
‘Squingy’, I get that from figs…. and horse meat.
Ragout de Raccoon makes me squingy.