Location: the waves, the ocean

Hoist the sails, raise yer bloody goblets, ahoy & onward me laddies!

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Anchor & Labile Growth

In me plundering I've oft had time to cogitate on the anchored settlements that dot the distant shores, aye, & in me thoughts me compass turns to such sedentary living with curious wonder, aye. As well ye know, laddies, me life, as any pirate's, is fraught with motion & everdrawn 'pon the changing seas, where I am naught but the dark shadow that broadsides a merchant frigate ere vanishing as hastily as a dream, aye. But these shorebound, these firmly planted, 'twould seem, stay put & from infant breaths to gruesome deaths they vow ne'er to part from their dear shores, or worse, always to return ere familiarity seeps away & leaves only the vague insinuation of their prior lives. Lads, I be but a simple pirate & aye, I've bemoaned me career I have, for me Elanore toils her days away under fate's cruel script whilst mine hours split 'tween plunder & repose. I conjure softer days, aye, & golden they seem in the spectral prism of remembrance, & like a ghost she moves through me mind. Dagger'll oft wonder at the static life, one closed down of its labile opportunities, one free of brigate & mast & cannonfire's endless report. But then, laddies, something always consigns me, again, to me destiny, & when me hook slashes bodily about me foes, me feels at home. When me parrot & I harmonize into the wee hours of the morn, singing dear shanties & sea-songs & ballads, me feels the comfort of me fate to its fullest. When, atop me crow's nest, me sips of Spanish port & apricot brandy, aye, & me vomit cascades below to the deck in a veritable rainbow of color, me feels me ship is steered a'right. Aye, lads, the life of the pirate is difficult, but it be me only life. Me pen once scratched a song of the Pirate's Dream, it did: "I'm drunk & alone & adrift on the sea, the unbearded young ones want to cry mutiny, but no other cap'n could steer this ship clean, so go on & sing of the pirate's dream, yes, we drink, & dream of the day, when the ship pulls into bay, when the ladies do wear gold berets in their hair & their laughter sounds pleasant & gay." & aye, there's more, but for economy's sake methinks it best to curb meself. So, laddies, wheresoever ye be, aship or ashore, revise yer fates if they needs revision, elsewise commit to them like ye would the song of the siren, aye, be it death or glory that awaits ye.


Anonymous Teddy Ruxpin said...

Ankle and Labia growth?

4:25 PM  
Anonymous Captain Redbearded Taco said...

Yar, be it so strange that a sea cap'n would wish to show a bit-o-the ankle whilst ingesting a few hormones to become a sea lassie? Pirates though we be, 'tis as much the 21st century at sea as 'tis on land.

6:12 PM  
Blogger henry dagger said...

Infernal bear! I shall reft ye asunder with me hook for yer insolence in the face of grave matters! Get ye back to yer attic where yer li'l Timmy has forgotten ye & rightly so!

8:13 AM  

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