Dr. Indiana Jones

Marcus, old friend, you’re always welcome to drink with me. Martinis, several nips of your favorite scotch, whatever you like, I’ll provide.

Also, I won’t bring up father issues if you ignore the framed photo I have of you on my desk.

She was slipping, you bastard. I couldn’t hold on to her. She would still be alive if she let the grail go!!!! Damn you, Donovan! It was not my fault!

Dad also said you’d sell your mother for an Etruscan vase - illuminated indeed.

Donovan, what I remember - besides the gull gore raining down on the rocky shores and the Messerschmitt exploding with its pilot scum trapped inside - was getting to call my father “Dad”.

What can I say, Donovan. Some things belong in museums, similar to how you belong in hell...what unlucky nurse do you have waiting on you helping you to type anyway? The last time I saw you the 400 year old knight guarding the grail appeared younger than your current look: lobotomized troglodyte.

A min until I lecture at packed NYC symposium abt my new techniques for conducting field work at precarious sites...yet Dr. Elsa Schneider, or as I called her, my lovely rose, refuses leave my mind.

My expertise, archeology requires time, but how I wish I could turn time back.

"Let my armies be the rocks, and the trees, and the birds in the sky." Dad was wrong about the quote, but as I used the rocks I found to pelt every bird in the park, I couldn't help but think of my old man. I miss you, sir.

Currently in NYC for a symposium being put up a hotel next to Central Park. After being woken up before dawn by intolerable chirping, I quit trying to sleep and took a walk. I found some rocks to throw at any birds I could find and as the sun rose, I thought of Dad's Charlemagne "quote."

The Toraja Tribe of South Sulawesi, Indonesia, exhume the remains of loved ones to groom them for good luck. This young man may not be too disgusted by your appearance to brush your hair or something. Wait, do you also smell awful?

Hang in there Walter,
Indiana Jones, Phd.

I suspect you're under the influence of several martinis, but I applaud your honesty. Actually you bear a semblance to a corpse I once saw in Iskenderun - have you considered marketing yourself as one of your antiquities?

Finally, we're all aging Walter. It's part of being human.

I'm sure your inbox is inundated with people eager to watch you get drunk and slobber on about bedtime stories you'd like to wake up to. Get a life, turncoat.

Sorry, Donovan! I meant to post this photo. Your comment still works. Tell your Mother Brody says "Hi"

Don't be upset with Dr. Brody because he didn't need to pedal fake Ming vases from castle to castle like yourself, turncoat.

Maybe Elsa would have seen you as a man if your head wasn't so far up your Führer's ass.

#EthicalCuration #MarcusBrody

First of all, NO. I can back this up having personally acquired many priceless artifacts for Brody. Second, almost ALL of your antiquities looted. You may have some Heer insignia you stole after hanging out with the scum in Northern Africa.

She never realized you were a man, Donovan.

Still, I can't believe she never made a move on you, the esteemed antiquity dealer who freely admits "I am not a historian. I have no idea what the grail looks like."

Now tell me your eBay, Walter. Don't be scared.

This is me in #venice meeting Elsa the very first time. I already knew what I wanted to do, but little did I know this sexy Austrian turncoat planned on turning ME out.

Behind us is #MarcusBrody. I love the pervert. He's a dotard, but harmless, so I let him watch my extracurricular work.

Elsa before revealing she is working for the germans.

(After this, I am definitely going to sleep)

This is the moment she betrayed me. If I'm being honest: I'd go through it all again to sleep with her once more like that day in #venice.

I hate to kiss and tell, but she sucked my lip, kissed my ears, my neck, then made me collapse on the bed...

Before I finally sleep, I want to share with everyone my last memory of Elsa.

Look at her eyes and her hands grasping the grail. She destroyed our future.

Last words to Elsa: "The knight warned us not to take the grail from here!"

Auf wiedersehen to the hottest Austrian turncoat in history.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about her and what we could have done in bed together. Feels like just yesterday Elsa betrayed me.

Her sucking on my ear + Venice...let's just say I'm no Marcus Brody. By the way, if you get a chance, visit his museum.

#MarshallCollege #Archeology #Travel