Shiver me timbers and hoist the mainsail! With the rising of the morning sun, we be greeted with another day to pillage, plunder, and make ourselves into rich men. Though, tis be true, this day is also knowed to be cursed by those who don’t answer the call of the siren’s song and join their fellow sea-dogs in speaking like proper Pirates! Yarr!
It was one year ago today that this ugly and demon-bellied curse first reared its monster-faced… er… face. I was a scrubbin’ the poop-deck (that’s not a euphemism, yarr) and waxing my peg leg (that be a euphemism, says I) when the most fearsome creature in the whole of the seven seas, 12 bays, 18 reservoirs, and 29 municipal county-run ponds attacked me and me crew.
A valiant fight was launched against the horrible creature, and for a few moments we fought like zombie-hellspawn pulled up straight from the darkest corners of Davy Jones’ locker… but we all crumbled when the horrific beast flopped a slimy tentacle on to the deck and not a soul among the crew could ignore how much that horrific appendage resembled the buxom barwench Matilda from the Grog and Chumbucket pub in Barbados.
Scurvy Jack was the first to succumb to the coincidental and wholly bizarre wiles of the doppelganger tentacle and he would have been the last had his face not carried a grimace of purest ecstasy as he was pulled into the black waters of the deep. Rickets Jim was the next to go, and he was quickly followed Polio Bill, and Human Papilloma Virus Reggie.
I ordered the men what had bandannas on to pull them over their eyes, and those what had eye-patches to switch the patch from their bad eye to the good eye. It was in this way that I learned all the deckhands with eye-patches were horrible fakers, for no sooner had they switched their patches to their “good” eyes than did their “bad” eyes catch sight of tentacle with heaving bosoms, and like the others they were pulled into the sea.
Those that had their eyes covered couldn’t tell tentacle from an excavation in terra firma, and as the sea beast watched with what could only be referred to as unholy mirth, my crew slaughtered each other on the deck of my ship, The Happy Sugarbear Magictime Funboat. The hideous monster pulled itself onto the deck, soaked up every drop of blood, ate every bit of gory-gibbet, and then picked its teeth with me mizzen-mast (that’s not a euphemism).
I sailed on that boat stranded for days and when I awoke, I was here, behind this desk, doomed to jockey a desk for the rest of me days. But with every year that passes, my piratical nature surfaces on this, September the 19th, and once more, I can banter with the best pirates that ever were condemned to cubicles.
(For those of ye mutinous sea-dogs unfamiliar with pirates, a good place to start is here. Most lubbers don’t know that the Golden Age of Piracy only lasted for about 15 years.)
Hmmm…aye, matey.
Jesus Christ! How many posts did you go back and change?
Jules- All of them. I live to serve.
But why? (And less importantly, how?) No, really? WHY?
Holy shit. I didn’t say that “pass the grog” crap. LOL. I get it now. Whew. At least it isn’t permanent (wishful thinking).
Oh, my God. That is annoying.
“…and then picked its teeth with me mizzen-mast…”.
Ouch. That’s gonna leave a mark.
LOL
You’re really dedicated to this whole talk like a pirate thing. I’d hate to see what would happen to this place on Bark Like A Golden Retriever Day or Squawk Like An Angry Parrot Day.
WTmotherfuckingF?
It changed my comment to look like pirate writing? You’re such a nerd, ACW, such a nerd.
If I, I get to know your name
Well if I, could trace your private number, baby
All I know is that to me
You look like you’re lots of fun
Open up your lovin’ arms
I want some, want some
I set my sights on you
(And no one else will do)
And I, I’ve got to have my way now, baby
All I know is that to me
You look like you’re having fun
Open up your lovin’ arms
Watch out here I come
Chorus:
You spin me right round, baby
Right round like a record, baby
Right round round round
You spin me right round, baby
Right round like a record, baby
Right round round round
I got to be your friend now, baby
And I would like to move in just a little bit closer
All I know is that to me
You look like you’re lots of fun
Open up your lovin’ arms
Watch out, here I come
(Chorus)
I want your love…
I want your love…
All I know is that to me
You look like you’re lots of fun
Open up your lovin’ arms
Watch out, here I come
(Chorus)
I want your love…
I want your love…
(Chorus, repeat and fade)
Bekah: What I want to know is, what the motherfucking fuck does “And swab the deck!” have to do with anything? Honestly! Talk sensibly!
i’m wearing my best pirate outfit and eating oranges to prevent scurvy.
because no one, not even a pirate, likes scurvy.
AC, The baltimore pirates of ole would be proud of ya.
Would ye be familiar then with the Church o’ th’ Flying Spaghetti Monster?
http://www.venganza.org/
My personal religious affiliation and a fine source of pirate speak . . .
Evil Genius- Keep it in your head that mizzen mast was a euphamism.
Bekah- Those other days ye mentioned be no more than silliness.
j$- be ye testin’ me?
kendra- Scurvy Jack liked scurvy, rest his soul.
Hoodlum- Thank ye.
Salgal- Would I? Of COURSE I’m familiar. I was touched by his noodly appendage some time ago.
I’ve been gone for 10 days, and all I can say is:
1. Happy Birthday
2. Wow!
3. My eyes and brain hurt.
Sing along at home!
‘Twas Friday morn when we set sail
And we were not farrrgh from the land
When arrgh Captain, he spied a mermaid so fair
With a comb and a glass in her hand.
And the ocean waves do roll
And the stormy winds do blow
And we four sailors arggh skipping at the top
And the land lubbers lay down below, below, below
And the land lubbers lay down below
Well up spoke the Captain of arggh gallant ship
And a fine spoken man was He
He said “This fishy mermaid has warned me of our doom,
We shall sink to the bottom of the sea!”
Then up spoke the cabin boy of our gallant ship
And a brave young lad was he
He said “I have a sweetheart at Salem by the sea,
and tonight she’ll be weepin’ for me.”
Well up spoke the Cook of our gallant ship
And a greasy old butcher was he
He said “I care more for my my pots and my pans
Than I do for the bottom of the sea!”
Then three times ’round spun our gallant ship
And three times ’round spun she
Three times ’round spun our gallant ship
And she sank to the bottom of the sea!
(after reading comments Jali slaps forehead)
“Oranges! shit!”
(she’s on day 5 of the Atkins Diet and can’t eat oranges.)
“I must reluctantly return my peg-leg and patch and resign my position as a cutie pie pirate since I can’t afford scurvy and the vitamin supplements I need aren’t available everywhere.
BLOODY HELL! I hate it when I forget about International Talk Like A Pirate Day until it’s too late. I missed it again.
Oh well, I’ll still get to celebrate International Piss Like A Racehorse Day.